Jake Undone (19 page)

was younger, just out of school. I think he actually had a crush on her.” I laughed thinking about how cute

my brother was. “I just remember being so grateful for the times that she was with him when we couldn’t

be because of work or school. He was so sick but would just light up whenever she was around. And I

remember thinking back then, God, if my brother makes it, I swear I am going to give back and do the

same thing for someone else’s brother or son.”

“So, after he died, you still decided to do it.”

“Yeah, I did.” I focused on his dragon tattoo, trying not to lose my composure.

He could tell I was about to cry.

“It’s okay, Nina.

My voice was now shaky, but I managed to get it together. “It just made me so thankful that he had

her…someone that brought a little light into his life, during such a dark time.”

“I can relate to that,” he said looking down, playing with his straw again.

“What do you mean?”

“Much needed light during a dark time…being on the receiving end of that.”

Then, he looked straight up at me suddenly. I didn’t fully understand what he meant, but before I could

ask what he was referring to, our food had arrived.

I gasped when the waitress set my plate in front of me. “Okay, this burger is bigger than my head.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. Whatever you don’t finish, I’ll eat.”

Our hands collided when we both reached for the salt at the same time. Even a split second of touching

him sent a shock wave through me.

As usual, we ate in comfortable silence, and the sounds he made while devouring the burger reminded

me of his reaction to my desserts. He definitely let it be known when he was truly enjoying something.

The shake was so thick I could barely get it through the straw.

“You need to suck on it harder,” he said with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows.

He was the king of sexual innuendos. I usually didn’t play along but was in a different kind of a mood

today. “I guess my mouth is just out of practice.”

He nearly choked on his own shake and that topic of conversation pretty much ended there.

Suddenly embarrassed at my boldness, I changed the subject. “So, you asked me why I decided to

become a nurse. Why did you choose engineering?”

“From a young age, I liked to take things apart and put them back together. So, I guess it was the field

that fit the bill.”

So, when he rips my heart out, he’ll be able to fix it.

I looked down at his sexy arms. “I am sure you get asked this all the time, but what are the meanings

behind your tattoos, like the dragon, for example? That’s my favorite one.”

Squinting his eyes sarcastically, he said, “No…no one
ever
asks me that!” He chuckled. “Seriously,

though, nothing profound. Everyone thinks there’s got to be some fucking deep meaning behind ink, but I

just thought the dragon looked cool. The same goes for these.” He pointed to his right arm that sported

various Celtic and tribal markings, along with crosses, roses and other artwork. “All meaningless, except for

this one right here, the moon with my father’s initials on it. I got most of these when I was a teenager.”

I reached across the table and rubbed my index finger over the half moon tattoo that had the letters

A.B.G. surrounding it.

“What does it stand for?”

“Alan Boyd Green.”

“What does the moon mean?”

He looked down at my finger, which was still brushing against his arm and said, “My Dad used to say

this thing to me before he left the house or tucked me in at night. I would tell him I loved him then he

would say he loved me too. But I would always ask him how much. He would say, ‘to the moon…I love

you to the moon.’”

“That is so incredibly sweet.”

He was staring out the window. “Sometimes, I look up at the moon at night and think of him. I know

that’s fucking cheesy…but I do.”

“I think that’s beautiful.”

I think you are beautiful too, and God help me, I want to kiss you so badly right now.

“He was this big biker dude, you know? But he had a heart of gold, and he would have been a great

father to have growing up.” He lifted his thumb, pointing to the band he always wore around it. “This was

my Dad’s wedding ring, actually.”

Wow.

“He knew that you loved him, Jake. I regret not telling my brother I loved him more like that.”

“We all have things we regret…decisions we make that we have to live with. You can’t dwell on them

and beat yourself up for it. It doesn’t change anything.”

We stayed in that diner booth for at least three hours. We played more music from the jukebox, and I

told Jake stories about growing up in the boonies; he couldn’t believe I actually drove a tractor and said

he’d pay money if I let him come home and watch. He joked that he would pay more if I did it in a bikini.

Then, we shared a huge slice of “death by chocolate” cake. He had asked me if I wanted to go explore

more of Chicago, but there was something so peaceful about this nostalgic place. I told him I preferred to

just hang out here until we had to head back to the airport.

The sun had set, and the evening dinner crowd started to fill Bernie’s. Every time the bell on the door

chimed, it reminded me I was one step closer to getting back on another plane. The anxiety started to build

up again.

I took the last bite of cake, and with my mouth full, said, “This day really surprised me. I had no clue

what you had in store, but it turned out to be one of the best days I’ve had in a really long time. To think I

was dreading it. Now, I just have get through the flight home.”

“You can choose right here and now to stay in the present and let go of the fear or you can choose to

engage it. Nothing can hurt you on that plane, unless you let it.”

I put my fork down. “How did you get to be so wise? Seriously, you’re like an 80-year-old man stuck in

a hot, tatted body.”

What the hell did I just say to him?

His gaze was penetrating, and the amused smile on his face showed me that my admission hadn’t

escaped him.

“So…you think I’m hot?” His smile was devious now. He was going to torture me.

I didn’t know what to say, so decided on an answer that made no sense. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“Are there other meanings for hot?”

“Jake—”

“You’re turning red…stop. I’m messing with you. You make it so easy sometimes.” He laughed and

startled me when he reached across the table and swiped his thumb gently across my lip then licked his

finger. Chills radiated down my spine as he did it.

“You had chocolate all over your mouth. It was cute for a while, but I didn’t want you leaving here like

that.”

“Oh…thanks,” I said looking away, still embarrassed about what I had just admitted. I was also

desperately wishing he had licked the chocolate directly off of my mouth, so I could taste him.

It was now completely dark out, and I knew we had to leave in a few minutes. I wished we could just

stay here in this booth longer. Somehow we were able to drown out the whole world for the past few

hours. He had me crazy in lust and had a way of making me want to tell him everything, like my deepest

fears and desires. Sometimes, I made an ass out of myself in the process because if I was being honest…
he

was my deepest desire.

“Ready to go? We should get to the airport,” he said as he took out his wallet and paid the bill.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

As we exited Bernie’s, he put his hand on the small of my back again, and my breathing quickened

immediately. Anytime he so much as brushed up against me, let alone touched me directly, my body

responded, and lately, the effects have been cumulative; I was slowly wearing thin.

***

On the flight home, before takeoff, he grabbed my hand without my asking him to.

I think he could see my nerves starting to work their way up to panic mode.

This plane was bigger and nearly empty, and we had a large middle row all to ourselves. I was scared

but didn’t feel as out of control as I was at the start of the first flight. It was nighttime, and somehow that

was more calming than the sun pouring in.

“You think you can make it through takeoff without a tickle?”

I nodded. “Just don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

“I promise. I won’t.”

And he didn’t, for the entire flight. Even when we had reached cruising altitude, even when the flight

attendant came by with drinks, even when he would reach into his backpack for something, he kept my

hand in his. It was a small gesture, but it was the first time I truly felt that he was holding it because he

wanted to, not because I needed him to.

It was dark inside the plane aside from some small interior lights. Sitting close to him in the dim lighting

of our otherwise empty row felt intimate.

Jake came up with a game to get my mind off a patch of turbulence. “We are going to take turns

shouting out a word, and then we both have to say the first thing that comes to mind.

I breathed out, still shaken from the constant bouncing of the plane. “Okay.”

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“You first,” he said.

The first subject that came to my mind was “Chicago.”

Me: “Bernies.”

Jake: “Home.”

“Math,” Jake said.

Me: “Torture.”

Jake: “Fun.”

“Mrs. Ballsworthy,” I said laughing.

We looked at each other, amused and said in unison, “Fuck.”

He threw out his own name. “Jake.”

Me: “Bananas.”

Jake: “Hot.”

I smacked him.

I threw out, “Nina.”

Me: “Spectacular.”

Jake: (Silent pause) “Let me think about that and get back to you.”

I whacked him playfully again.

We continued to play the back and forth game until the turbulence let up. He had succeeded in

distracting me from it.

It had been a long day, and I decided to lay my head back and close my eyes, even though I was too

nervous to actually nap. Jake was still holding my hand, and at one point, started rubbing his thumb softly

back and forth across it. My eyes were still closed, but I was melting into the seat, quivering between my

legs at the small but sensual gesture. I squeezed his hand in an attempt to communicate that I liked it when

he did that. As he continued to brush across my hand with his thumb, I mimicked him and started rubbing

my own thumb across his. Eventually, our two thumbs were moving in soft circular motions.

When I opened my eyes suddenly, I was surprised to find him turned in his seat completely toward me.

I had assumed he was looking straight ahead with his eyes closed, like I was. Instead, he was just staring at

me, and I seemed to have caught him in the act. Was he doing that the entire time our thumbs were making

out?

His breathing was rapid, and he was looking at me like he was struggling to say something, like he

definitely wanted to kiss me, like he wanted inside my soul, but something was holding him back.

He took his hand from mine and used it to push my hair behind my ears, sat up and then said, “You

better put on your seatbelt. The light just came on.”

We said nothing else for the rest of the flight. My heart was pounding, but this time, it wasn’t because of

my fear of flying. It was for fear of Jake. Because I had really thought that something was about to happen

between us in that moment, yet in typical Jake fashion, he stopped at the tipping point. And those butterflies

in my stomach? They were dead from exhaustion.

***

When I returned from the shower to my bedroom that night, in place of a paper bat on my nightstand,

was a pair of plastic gold pilot’s wings that I had apparently earned as a brave flier. So, once again, Jake

managed to make me feel like a child.

I was damn proud of myself, though. The feeling was bittersweet because even though our trip rocked,

it created more confusion. After today, I was absolutely sure he felt something for me.

The next day, I’d leave for almost two weeks to go home for Christmas break. What I didn’t know was,

once I returned to Brooklyn after the holidays, nothing would ever be the same there again.

CHAPTER 16

I was back at my parents’ house all of one day, and I was already itching to see Jake again. It was the

weekend, so he would have been in Boston anyway, but it was psychological because I knew I’d be here

for several days. It would be the first whole week since I had known him that we would be apart.

I felt empty and hopeless, and it was my first realization that I was truly becoming addicted to him. It

was snowing heavily, and while I should have appreciated the beautiful white landscape outside the

window, it just made me feel more trapped here.

I sat on the red suede couch, mindlessly flicking through cable channels, while really focused on

thoughts of Jake’s thumb brushing against mine.

Then, my mind wandered to that night in his room when he basically kicked me out. I tried really hard

in general not to think about that night, those words that came out of his mouth that were so brutally raw. I

nearly had an orgasm from just replaying them alone and believed that he meant what he said about the

things he wanted to do to me. He
was
trying hard to stay away. The thought both turned me on immensely

and angered me.

At dinner, my parents grilled me about life in New York. They were pretty conservative, and if they