Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Hang on,” I tell him, laughing. “I made snacks. Food first, then you can pet the kitty.”
“How about we save the food for a post-fuck snack?” Shawn says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“Where’s the romance, dude? The kiss and the ‘I missed you, baby’?”
Shawn scowls at Hayes but then approaches me for a gentle kiss. “I’m so sorry,” he says again. “For going all caveman and exposing your filthy sex life to the world.”
I snort with shocked laughter as Hayes mutters expletives.
Still held in Hayes’ arms, I crane my head for Jacob. He’s hanging back, his hands in his pockets, seemingly lost in thought.
“Aren’t you tired and hungry?” I ask. “Jacob looks as though he’s hanging by a thread.”
“Headache,” he says, pulling his hands from his pockets to rub his face, then flopping onto the couch with an old man-noise of relief.
“To the kitchen,” I say loudly, pointing in the direction, making Hayes laugh. He does as I request, and I kiss his neck, inhaling his fresh scent, marveling at the easy way he carries me and the happiness pouring from him after going through such a challenging time.
He moans appreciatively at the sight of the prepared food and lowers me to the floor so I can carry two of the platters into the den, resting them on the table in front of Jacob and Shawn.
Hayes settles into a chair, and I sit cross-legged on a pillow, watching as he tucks into the food. Shawn is ravenous, but Jacob remains tightlipped with his eyes closed, the deep furrow between his brows the only sign that he’s suffering rather than sleeping. His constant headaches are worrying me, but Hayes has assured me that he’ll bring it up, rather than me risking getting bitten on the ass for delivering an unwelcome message. If nothing else, Jacob needs to talk to a doctor.
“So, what happened with Aubert?”
“Mouthing off as usual,” Shawn says, but the way he looks at Jacob confirms it was something they don’t want to share.
“What did your dad say when we left?” Hayes asks.
“He said you’re all very tall.”
Shawn, halfway through a mouthful of wrap, grins and speaks through the side of his mouth. “So, he’s impressed with our tallness.”
“And your mature approach. I think he expected you all to skulk away at the first sign of trouble or put your careers before my feelings.”
“He liked it when I called him sir, didn’t he?” Jacob says, startling us.
“Yeah. That was his favorite part. You sure you don’t want to eat, Jay? It might do you some good to put something in your stomach.”
He moves his head so gingerly from side to side that it barely registers as a no. He must really be bad.
I scramble to my feet and approach the sofa, sitting slightly away from him. “You can rest your head in my lap, honey,” I tell him.
He cracks one eye, struggling to focus on me, with so much pain in his expression that I want to do anything to take it away. He lowers himself gingerly, curling onto his side so his head rests on my thigh. Even lying down causes him pain.
His freshly washed dirty blond hair conceals his face from this angle, his head heavy and his breathing ragged. I first touch just behind his ear, where the hair is short and soft, stroking gently. He sighs, and his arm wraps around my knee, holding me like I’m the only anchor in a storm. I smooth the tips of my fingers over his scalp and then my nails, and his body trembles.
The tears I fought so hard not to shed swell, and even though I swallow frantically, trying to push them away, they spill anyway. This man. This strong, capable, fierce man is so broken, and I don’t know how to help. This isn’t enough, but it’s all I have. I look up, finding Shawn and Hayes watching with tenderness in their eyes. I have to look away because it’s too much.
My heart aches for how much Jacob is carrying every day through the pain. The expectations of the school, the fans, and most heavily, his own. It’s not sustainable to push through over and over. There has to come a time when a body breaks, like his dad’s.
The journal entries that Hayes described haunt me, and as much as Jacob would hate to ever admit it, he’s the one most like Carl when it comes to covering up pain and pretending that everything is okay.
Jacob’s breathing slows, his head heavy in my lap, and he sighs as sleep pulls him under. My fingers continue their slow, gentle movements through his hair, even though I’m sure he’s completely out. His face is softer like this, all the tension smoothed away, and he’s suddenly younger, the little kid with serious eyes who never seemed to be happy. I trace the scar on his eyebrow, wondering how old he was when he was injured and who wiped away the blood and bandaged it up.