Chapter 12
Ada
Nicotine gum is too hard. My jaw hurts from chewing all morning. But it’s doing the job, I guess. I’m officially twelve hours vape-free. I know, don’t rush-order the parade or anything.
I sit in my playpen watching the door. Not for a man. It’s been nine days since Jake told our classmates to back off. They took it so seriously you’d think he was the fucking FBI.
I commented, ‘Cute dog’ on Xavier McColl’s blue heeler puppy post, and he fucking blocked me.
“No one from school with an XY chromosome will talk to me,” I complained to Jake when he got out of the shower the other day.
“Good. That means they’re not trying to fuck you,” he said, as he towel-dried his hair.
“Fuck me? They won’t make electronic eye contact with me.”
His only response was a satisfied smirk.
“Well, thanks, dickhole. I have plans, you know?”
“You had plans,” he corrected, crawling on top of me, clean, damp, and unfairly gorgeous. “Anyway, what are you thinking about those pricks when you could be thinking about me?”
Unfortunately, I did think about Jake. And then I had sex with him. Several dozen more times.
Actually, since the Stabbies-Thrasher incident, I’ve spent the majority of my existence with my ankles around Jake Graves-Holland’s neck.
It’s really cutting into my drinking time.
And my revenge plans. But that changed yesterday morning when Jake brought me a latte in bed.
His machine’s so fancy, I couldn’t even feign Italian disgust. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. So, I’m headed to South Africa tomorrow,” he informed me as I sipped.
“Weird.”
“It’s for rugby.”
“’Kay.”
“Wanna come with me?”
“Have you gone totally crackers?”
“Fine, you don’t need to come this time—”
“This time?”
“—but I’ll be thinking ’bout you non-stop, and I’ll text you whenever I can.”
“Please don’t.”
“Goes without saying, I won’t be with anyone else while I’m away.”
“I… don’t care…?”
Jake looked me dead in the eyes. “You gonna be with someone else while I’m away?”
“I legitimately fail to see how that’s your business.”
He made a considering face. “Okay, I’ll put it like this: I find out there’s been someone else, they’re dead, and you’re handcuffed to my bed for a month.”
“That’s a literal threat!”
Jake didn’t even blink. “You love it.”
I did. But I avoided his eyes, sipping my coffee, unwilling to agree. I sensed he’d been gearing up for this conversation for a while. That we’d hit a stage of repeated sexual contact where some statement of intent was required.
“Look at me,” he said, with a seriousness totally unlike his usual demands for me to climb onto his face.
I did what I was told and was shocked by his beauty in the morning sunshine. The shape of his face. The warmth in his dark grey eyes. It took everything I had not to say it all out loud. Instead, I sighed. “What do you want now?”
“You know what. Gimme a shot, Ada. A real one. That’s all I’m asking for.”
It probably wasn’t too much to ask, considering I’d basically been living with him for over a week, but committing meant officially laying down my revenge plans—at least in this current form.
It also meant walking into another doomed relationship.
Watching the light go out of another man’s eyes, as I fail to meet their expectations.
Another disappointment. But my chest was tight as a fist, and I knew if I said ‘No, I don’t want to be with you,’ I’d be lying to both of us.
Sometimes you don’t get to decide. You just realise the choice has already been made. Still, I couldn’t quite accept it.
“I don’t like you,” I told Jake. “You, or anyone else.”
He grinned because nothing I say ever seems to actually upset Jake. “You like taking my dick. That’s good enough for now. How ’bout we go from there?”
How do you argue with a man talking like that? More importantly, how do you resist?
“Okay,” I muttered. “One shot. Do not miss this opportunity to blow, etcetera.”
Jake smiled at me, and it was like the sun coming up over a wine-dark lake. “Then it’s settled. You’re my girl.”
“For now.”
He rolled his eyes, still grinning from ear to ear. “God, you're a hard woman.”
“You love it.”
“You drive me batshit.”
“That was the plan.”
“Was the plan?”
I stayed silent for as long as I could, but eventually the sheer, unstoppable handsomeness of his stern face won. “Yeah. Was, I guess.”
“And now?”
I shrugged.
Jake took my coffee cup, putting it on the side table, climbed onto the bed and kissed me in that soft, deep way that never feels forced or overwhelming.
I opened my eyes as our mouths worked, and he was looking right into my eyes.
The realisation I didn’t mind startled me, but I stared back with the sweeping sense that I’d known him forever.
It didn’t make sense. I lived with Name Forever Redacted for two years, and sometimes I’d catch him looking at me and think, ‘Who are you?’
But I don’t feel that way about Jake. It’s way too soon, and it fucking terrifies me.
“How are you sure about me?” I demanded when he’d finished melting my brain with his lips.
“Because I am.”
“Circular logic.”
He grinned. “Never been that smart, babe. Too many head injuries.”
“Is that why you want to be with me? Because you’ve had, like… nine million concussions?”
“Nah, it’s ’cos you’re a dime, and you fuck like a rattlesnake.”
I threw a pillow at him, glaring when he batted it away. “I regret to inform you I’m evil. I have bad intentions toward you. I’m plotting your downfall as we speak.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Am so!”
“Don’t lie to me.”
I scowled at him. “How do you always know when I’m lying?”
“Yeah, I’m really gonna fuckin’ tell you, Renaldo.” Jake touched two fingers to my breastbone, right above my heart. “I’ll tell you why you’re not evil, though.”
“This should be good…”
“That first night we were together, you only came back to the Airbnb to fuck with the boys—” He presses the fingers to my lips.
“Don’t. You wanted me, but that wasn’t enough to get you back there.
You had murder on your mind. But you didn’t steal my jersey.
You could have, but you didn’t. You know why? ”
I shake my head dumbly.
“Because you’re a good girl and you like me.”
He tried to replace his fingers with his lips, but I pulled away. “I blackmailed you.”
Jake looked confused. “When?”
“The night we met. I made you come too fast on purpose.”
He gave a full-throated laugh. “First of all, that’s not when we met. Second, if that’s blackmail, baby, take me for all I’m worth.”
“I will,” I say grumpily. “You’ll see.”
“You’re so funny. And sexy. It fucks me up how sexy you are.”
I glared back at him. “You too.”
“Good girl.” He sat up. “I need to pack. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid until I get home?”
“No.”
“Fine.” He kissed me again, soft and slow, and left me melting into his sheets.
“Christ, you make me feel…” He blew out a long breath.
“I know,” I whispered.
“You also get me hard every ten minutes. I’ve got work to do, woman.”
“Geez, sorry…”
He smiled and got out of bed. I watched him pull his leather travel bag from his wardrobe, and my chest ached at the sight of it.
I drank the last of my coffee as I watched him pack, confused by the stab of shock I felt that he was leaving and resentful I’d already let him so deep under my skin, but also…
happy. Before he left, he gave me his debut All Blacks jersey.
I’ve been sleeping in it. And now I’m sitting here in Stabbies, grinning at nothing, like an idiot.
Two nights ago, I texted Jake:
My pussy hurts without you here to take care of it.
He sent back two words:
Show me.
So I dimmed the lights, grabbed my favourite vibrator and recorded the best solo performance of my life. And I once played Carnegie Hall.
Jake scored two tries in South Africa and swore it was because of me.
I think I might have a boyfriend.
A handsome, sweet, funny boyfriend who screws like Satan, and is from Pukekohe. Lord knows what my parents are going to say…
“Heya.” Cece’s voice snaps me out of my trance.
“Hi!” I say, way too loud. “How are you?”
“Great.”
She’s not. She’s been running on fumes post-Lisa. I don’t think she’s slept properly in days.
“How’s things?” I ask.
“Good,” she says with a beatific smile. “I’ve been DMing Will.”
Shit. “That’s great! Like… a lot?”
Cece nods, and I can’t tell if it’s lust or exhaustion making her eyes glow. But the woman looks insane.
“Why don’t you go take a nap? Cam’s here and I can help out if it gets busy.”
“No, I’m fine. I actually wanted to talk to you about the accommodation for the reunion.” She flashes me a nervous smile. “Are you still okay to cover it?”
I hesitate. Not because of the money. I’d pay for us to stay at a five-star hotel if Pukekohe had one.
It’s the reunion itself I’m having second thoughts about.
Well, I’m not so much ‘having them,’ as ‘receiving them,’ but I can’t deny the appeal.
After Jake finished… praising my cam-girl vid, he called, and we had a long rambling chat about nothing.
In the end, he said we should go away together.
“Rotorua’s always nice and I’ve got some time off after this game. How’s next weekend? I could get us a place.”
“What are we supposed to do in Rotorua?” I asked. “Hunt boar?”
“Swim. Drink. Fuck each other senseless.”
“Well, that’s quite the offer…” I check the calendar on my phone. “Dude, that’s the weekend of the reunion!”
“I know.”
“Jake, I can’t bail on that.”
A short pause. “Because of your plans?”
“No. Well, kind of. But I also promised to be Cece’s wingman.”
“I have complete faith she’ll be able to smash Will on her own.”
“That’s not the point.”
He sighed. “You don’t actually wanna go to the reunion, do you?”
The question, asked at point-blank range, shocked the truth out of me. “Of course not. I think it’s going to be a shitshow.”
“Good. Then let’s fuck it off and run away together.”