35. Chelsea #2
It's not a big, dramatic realization as I would expect, but a quiet acknowledgment, an anchoring for all the confusing emotions I've had towards him and the rest of the men.
It's love.
I love them.
But I can't love them. I shouldn't love them. Loving them would ruin everything.
Jake waits patiently, not trying to force the words out of my mouth.
He pushes my hair behind my ears and leans down, brushing the tips.
"I think I love you, Chelsea," he whispers, and my heart skips a beat. "I've never been in love before, but I think this is it."
No. Don't tell me that. This already makes it hard enough.
When his lips finally touch mine, I'm captured in a cocoon of sweetness that confirms it. My biggest fear. I do love him.
The rustling of grass and what sounds like a giggle interrupt the embrace.
We jerk away, and I blush deeply as I notice the two older women standing in their garden beside us watching.
"Oh, don't stop on our account," the white-haired one says. "We were very much enjoying the show."
My face turns hot as Jake chuckles.
"How's it going, Gertrude?"
"Can't complain. My arthritis has been better after that ointment you gave me."
"That's awesome. I'll tell my buddy to ship some more. He's in Cambodia right now and can get it pretty cheap from there."
"Ah, you're a gem."
They have this entire conversation while I'm hiding my face in his chest, out of sheer embarrassment. Especially when the other woman asks, "And who is this?"
"This is Chelsea," Jake says, and his tone softens just a tad when he says my name in a way that makes my heart melt.
"Is she different from the one we saw last time? I'm not wearing my glasses."
The statement is like ice water to the face. It reminds me of who Jake is, his past, and my brother's warning.
I shouldn't hold it against him. Hell, I have a past, too. But I can't help wondering how many women he's told these same words to, and how many he's held like this.
God, you're pathetic. I'm the one sleeping with three men here. There's absolutely nothing for me to complain about.
But I pull back from his body, anyway, crossing my arms over my chest reflexively.
He must have noticed the subtle distance because he says, "She's different. Different from anyone I've ever met."
I smile at him, trying to hide my fears at the same time. At the back of my mind, they still linger.
The trip to the grocery store is quiet. We're both thinking about the love confession, but probably from different directions.
He's probably thinking that I haven't told him 'I love you' back, and I'm thinking of whether he even truly means it.
He did say he hasn't been in love before, so what if what he feels isn't that? What if it's something else?
And how would the rest of the men react to knowing that Jake said he loved me?
We go back home with our same thoughts, but before we get close, Jake pulls me into his arms and kisses me.
This time it's hot, lingering, his tongue consuming me.
He kisses me like he doesn't want to stop.
I kiss him back with the same desperation, the same all-consuming passion.
I love you, I think. I love you.
"What the fuck?"
The sound of my brother's voice has me stiffening. Jake ends the kiss before I can, and I spot the apprehension in his expression before we both turn in unison to find James standing there, pale-faced.
Fuck.
I knew I should have told him earlier. Somehow this feels inevitable.
There's a moment of silence as we wait for the incoming implosion. We don't wait long.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Adam cries out.
"James–"
"You're fucking two-timing Adam?"
"No," I shake my head. "I'm not two-timing anyone."
"Then why are you kissing his friend? I told you the kind of guys he is. Why didn't you listen..."
"James just..." I put a hand up. "Let's go inside and talk about this like adults."
"No," he says, but I start walking away anyway, and he follows me.
"How could you do this to Adam?" he asks. "He's over at work, and you're here screwing his best friend, who I thought was supposed to be injured? Is that what you two have been up to the entire time? Just making a fool of Adam?"
I ignore him as I get the key in the door and walk in. His words are making me upset, but the last thing I want is to have a screaming match in front of all the neighbors, announcing our entire business to them like my brother is doing.
When I walk in, he follows me, continuing his rant. "And with Jake of all people? Not even Sam? God, Chelsea, I thought you were smarter than that. I thought you were smart enough to–"
"Okay, that's it," I turn around. "Enough, okay? If you actually want me to tell you what's going on here, you'll pipe down so I can talk before you continue insulting Jake. Or me."
He seems shocked by my response, probably because I'm not begging or pleading for forgiveness. I'm just staring at him matter-of-factly.
"What?"
I steel myself for the next part of this, which will probably be the hardest. Jake comes in and stands by me, taking my hand. His presence gives me strength.
"I'm not cheating on Adam," I say. "Adam knows about us. I'm dating both of them. And Sam."
That scrambles my brother's brain for a few seconds. He blinks rapidly, struggling to process it.
"What?"
"I'm dating all three of them."
"Was this Jake's idea?"
I laugh. "Believe it or not, no. And James, you really need to get rid of this animosity you feel towards him. I know you're angry, but what happened wasn't entirely his fault."
"You don't know him!" James hisses. "And you're falling for his lies."
"He hasn't lied to me yet."
"How would you know? You're naive enough to think someone like Eric was a good idea."
I flinch, my anger simmering to the forefront. "James..."
"No, absolutely not. This is not happening. You're coming with me right now."
"Calm down, James," Jake says, and he triggers even more wrath directed at him.
"Don't fucking tell me what to do. She's my sister, you asshole!"
"James–"
"We're leaving, Chelsea, now."
"No."
"Chelsea..." His eyes narrow. "Let's go."
I shake my head. “I’m not going with you James. That’s final.”
His eyes spark. “We’ll see about that.”