#sweetbitter jake

[lenreli]

TOM STURRIDGE as JAKE

Sweetbitter (2018-2019) ↳1.04, "Simone's"

[newrhys]

need to jake post more anyways half return is so him coded

[tarotoftheendless]

Maybe I am not the first person to notice this, and I think I read a comment of someone's a while ago that just stated how they thought the director of Sweetbitter just told Tom to come in his actual clothes that were just a bit edgy or something shit, but Tom either kept the Sweetbitter sweater/cardigan he wore for Season 2 or that was just Tom's actual sweater/cardigan that he showed up on set with and the director just shrugged and let him do it. Out of all of Jake's outfits, this one is more like Tom than the rugged bad boy bartender Jake.

[endlessbittersweetdreams]

I found a nice video tribute to Jake, our favorite bad boy bartender.

Click HERE to be taken to it.

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 23 | Chapter 25

TW: As always: language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, smoking, sex, general mature themes. We've got some Tony in this chapter, some clear violations of the law and personal property/privacy, Simone's back (...yaaaaayyy), I'm gonna blue ball y'all just one more time with the big conversation our two idiots gotta have, another painting, some mentions of grooming, Lena's not in the mood for any of the shit this chapter, Jake's being the good "friend" he is. Some lies get told, and finally our dummies have THE conversation but also not really xD Enjoy!

Chapter 24: Burn the Ice

The morning chill stung his face as he exited the car - a reminder that the snow could start any day now. With calm, leisurely steps his fine leather shoes echoed amongst the chaos of the city. It was loud and crowded and smelt like cheap street vendor food. Disgusting, he thought to himself, glaring at the slouched-back people running the dirty stalls for a minute before starting up the steps.

Her building was old and smelt of mold, something he couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction about. It was obvious she wasn't living as well as she had been with him. The landlord gave him a wide-eyed look, one he was well accustomed to - the style of the rich was always something poor people gawked at - but all he did was smile that charming smile and offer the old man a wave as he made his way past.

At the door he let the others do their work, patiently drumming his fingers along the hard cover of the sketchbook while they did. The door made a loud creaking noise as it opened. “Wait here. I won't be long.”

The faint smells of cleaning materials and dust filled his nose. She'd been staying here less and less the closer the cold months got. A lingering trauma that made her unconsciously cling to that pathetic family of hers. A trauma he felt a burning frustration and an undoubtable swell of pride whenever he recalled it. Running his fingers along her countertop, looking at the living room filled with paintings she'd done after slipping away, Tony allowed himself a rare moment of quiet.

In that quiet Tony breathed in the faint smell of her cherry perfume with a grimace. He'd always hated that smell, hated the tiny fruit in general. But, he admired the malice behind it… The choice to douse herself in it was one clearly made to slight him. She could do nothing without thinking of him, even if it was in anger, for now, Tony enjoyed the simple fact that Lena still thought of him every day. It was a testament to a larger, even more satisfying truth.

This sad, pathetic little life she'd scrounged together was nothing without him.

Jules’ heavy footsteps intruded on his quiet, but he did so with respect so Tony would allow it. “He's coming this way.”

“How long?”

“Four minutes.”

“Good.” Right on schedule.

Tony set the sketchbook back on the counter and pulled the lovely orange flower from his breast pocket giving it a sniff before setting it on top of the book. Jules handed him the envelope with her name neatly printed in his decadent handwriting. “We'll see each other soon, my Lena.”

Jules had timed it perfectly, as he always did, right as Tony stepped out the door onto the steps of Lena's apartment the old biker turned onto the street. His eyes grew wide in terror and rage as he spotted him. Perfect. With a wide grin, Tony lifted his hand and offered them a wave before he slid into his limousine. “Take us home, driver. We're done here for today.”

*

A sweet smell filled Jake’s nose as he rolled onto his stomach, arm draping over the warm body lying beside him. The sweet, fruity, decadent aroma was one he recognized in mere seconds. Cherries. He happily buried his nose in that smell. Lena.

He cracked an eye open, catching that heavenly glimpse of the sun hitting her hair just right making it glow like fire. Pretty as that was, it paled in comparison to the sight of her bare back peeking out from beneath his covers. Her skin was soft as silk beneath the tips of his fingers as he lazily traced the snake tattoo.

The warm fuzziness that filled his chest made every touch, every smell, and sound feel almost dreamlike. He would have thought this was just another dream like he had the first time he woke up to her in his bed, but the sensations were too defined to just be his imagination. That and he felt so damn tired from the long night he'd spent in the throes of such physical activities.

With a pleased sigh, Jake recalled all the ways they'd made up for wasted time. He could still taste the sweetness of Lena's lips, still feel her soft skin rubbing so deliciously against his own. If he closed his eyes again he was sure he'd see the heavenly image of her moving on top of him. It was seared into his mind now just like his name felt forever changed now that he'd heard it on her lips as she came apart beneath him. The hickeys on his neck and the faint marks left by her fingernails clawing at his back would be more obvious things to remind him that last night had been real. Those marks would fade in a week or two unless he let her give him more, which he gladly would.

Lena had taken her time with him, kissing him, teasing him, working him so expertly he'd actually struggled not to come prematurely. She was just as talented as she'd built herself up to be and he felt like a damn fool for ever even doubting her. As if she needed more added to the list of all her perfections now she could add being the best he'd ever had.

She was vocal, not just in expressing her pleasure but in encouraging his own. No matter how hard he thought Jake couldn't remember ever feeling as satisfied during or after sex in his life. In between the three rounds of their newfound intense passions, Jake found himself… Present. Usually after an orgasm or two, he'd just fall asleep not caring if his partner did the same or not, but with her, he felt awake… Alive. 

They spent just as much time talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company as they had tangled in his sheets. They ate, drank, and played with their cat whenever the little creature slinked from his hiding place. It all felt natural and oddly intimate and, for better or worse, Jake enjoyed it.

Physical intimacy was something he'd always excelled at. Flirting, foreplay, all of it came naturally to him. Jake had spent his fair share of time between the legs of beautiful women but Lena was something else entirely. Something new. Being with her made him feel like his pleasure - he - mattered just as much as hers. It was a concept he'd never truly understood, let alone experienced until now.

Ever since he could remember Simone - women in general - had told him exactly what they wanted from him. Touch me. Kiss me. Fuck me. Faster. Slower. Harder. They told him how to please them and he listened. It was a good time for all parties, but deep down Jake always felt that sting of emptiness. It’d been more about following their orders than it had been about just getting to enjoy the moment. He felt used… Like he'd only been good for a quick fuck and nothing else.

Normally Jake would have swallowed that feeling and forced himself to move… To physically shake off the very thought of it. He'd busy his mind with reading or mundane tasks like showering or cleaning. He'd build up the wall between him and whoever he'd fucked the night before - distance himself from feeling anything at all. Right about now, Jake should have been justifying his dickish, asshole behavior by repeating the words Simone had said to him since he could remember. This is who you are, love. You're just not built for ordinary people. 

Ordinary people turned out to be everyone. Everyone but Simone. And now… Maybe… Lena. 

He never truly understood how powerful feelings like this could be. He never knew that one person - even one as perfect as her - was capable of making him feel like an entirely different person. Jake felt more like himself, a self he barely even knew any more than he had in practically his entire life. He let the peaceful silence and that warm feeling in his chest stay as he curled further into the back of his sleeping redhead.

It wasn't until Hemingway climbed over both their legs, shimmying beneath the curtains and pushing them open to further blind him with sunlight that Jake truly woke up. Pleased with his work the cat proudly pranced across the pillows to stare down at him with an impatient and demanding meow. He couldn't help but chuckle as Hemingway slapped his forehead with a fleshy paw. Lena mumbled something in her sleep, burrowing her face in his blanket with a happy sigh that practically drowned out the cat's noise. God, he wanted to wake her up and kiss her, feel her, fuck her until they were both too exhausted to continue.

After laying in bed for a minute longer - until Hemingway was on the verge of exploding - he slowly slid out of the sheets and stretched his tense back out with a quiet groan. Briefly glancing over his shoulder to make sure that he hadn't woken her, Jake slid on a pair of pants picked his shirt up off the floor, and dished up Hemingway’s food with a quiet scold, “There, was that so hard to wait for?”

He cleaned up the remnants of the night, tossing the now nubs of melted wax in the trash and putting the leftover oyster shells in his sink. When he moved to put the champagne in his fridge he was bitterly reminded of how little food he had. Shit. He set the champagne back on the counter, closing the fridge to look back at the bed. Did he really want to have the conversation in some overcrowded, too-loud diner? 

The thought sat in his mind for a second as a list of possible interruptions made him shake his head. Nope. He wasn't going to risk not talking about this any longer because of anything. Maybe that Chinese is still good? Nope. Jake may have been lazy but even he was above serving month-old Chinese food for breakfast. 

Jake knew Lena wouldn't care about where they ate breakfast, but he didn't want to risk anything going wrong. Besides, Lena deserved a proper breakfast. He wanted her to know that he'd thought about this. That he was ready - willing - to put his best foot forward. Jake wanted to show Lena that this wasn't just a one-night stand and that he wasn't going to vanish now that he'd finally fucked her. More than anything he wanted her to see how much last night, she, meant to him.

He quietly put on his shoes and grabbed his keys and wallet. Writing her a quick note, he set it on his pillow and pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. I'll be back before she even wakes up, he reassured himself as he turned and headed out the front door. The diner by his house would be open. It may not have been the best food, but it'd have to do.

I'm definitely going grocery shopping tomorrow. When Lena spent the night again, he'd be ready.

*

I woke to an abrupt slap to the center of my forehead followed by a loud, demanding meow directly in my ear. The silhouette of Hemingway's pointed ears was all I could see as he stood in front of the sunlit window. “Good morning to you too.”

Another demanding meow was the creature's only reply as I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. Hemingway jumped off the bed the second I'd sleepily rolled over to throw my arms around the body that should have been beside mine but wasn't. A nervous, gut-wrenching pit filled my stomach as I patted the empty mattress. “Jake?”

No answer.

“Jake?” I called out just a bit louder as I held the blanket to my naked chest and sat up in his bed, looking around his now-empty apartment. 

The bathroom door was open and the shower was off. His kitchen was empty, although cleaner than it had been when we'd finally fallen asleep. There weren't many places one could hide in an apartment as small and open as his. I shifted slightly, fingers brushing against a thin piece of paper on his pillow. 

Relax Princess, I just ran to grab us some breakfast. Should only be ten or fifteen minutes. Make yourself comfortable and DO NOT feed the cat again no matter how much he meows at you!

Air filled my lungs and my body relaxed back into Jake's soft sheets. He was safe. I was safe. Everything was alright.

For how long though? When he returned we'd have to finally have that discussion. The discussion. I'd need to have answers - need to admit just how much I'd fallen for him. The very thought of looking into his stupid, beautiful eyes and pouring my heart out to him made me feel dizzy.

Would he feel the same now that he'd achieved his original goal? Would Jake still want me as much as I still wanted him? And how much did I want him? How far had I really fallen since the start? 

Too far. Was the only answer I could admit to. I was naked in his apartment. I had slept with him in his bed. I was waking up with the cat we'd both unofficially adopted. There was no denying it. I was hopelessly, pathetically, irreparably in this - whatever this was. There was no going back to how things were before, not when all I could think about was just how perfect Jake's lips felt on mine and how amazing last night had been.

Sex was nothing new. It was something I'd had a lot of experience in, good and bad. I knew all the steps, all the moves, and still last night had taken me by surprise. Sex with Jake had been… different. It was unlike every other sexual experience I’d had. 

I often had to find ways to keep myself in the moment, something that got easier the more I was with someone or the more time had passed. But, with Jake, I was just there. I didn't need to remind myself to breathe. I didn't need to force my body to relax and repeat his name to remind myself whose hands were touching me. 

It was fun, exciting and intimate. Instead of feeling that shameful disgust, the one I needed to tell myself wasn't real, I felt at peace. There hadn't been a single moment when we were tangled together that I’d felt anything but completely and utterly cherished. I felt safe, unburdened by all the shit that'd been complicating even the simplest things in my life. Last night nothing else mattered, nothing but us.

Us. It was a word that made my lips quirk up in a smile. Us was simple. Us was what I wanted. And us was ultimately what I was most afraid of.

There were just so many ways it could all go wrong. I could fuck it up. He could fuck it up. We could both collectively fuck it all up. And then what? We'd just have to go about our lives working together, seeing each other every day, watching each other meet new people, and moving on? Even just the possibility of seeing Jake with anyone else made me feel sick. 

No, I thought sadly. We're in too deep for that. I couldn't live without Jake. His asshole attitude and his smart mouth, his smile, his laugh, he was entwined in my life now in a way I couldn't undo even if I tried. So, the choice was already made. I'd - we’d -make it work. No matter what I had to do to keep this from falling apart - to keep him in my life - I'd do it.

After surviving another round of Hemingway's desperate attempts to convince me to feed him, I was out of Jake's bed staring at the sulking cat as I searched for Jake's dresser. “Hitting me doesn't change the fact that you already ate!”

He hissed.

“You better watch that attitude,” I replied. “Or I won't sneak you any of my breakfast when Jake gets back.”

Hemingway’s eyes narrowed and with a moment of consideration before he rubbed himself against my feet. “Yeah, that's what I thought.”

As respectfully as I could, I searched Jake's drawers until I found his clothes. While they were kind of baggy on me, it was better than walking around in his blanket all morning. Besides, I enjoyed the way they smelt like him and felt softer against my skin than my own clothes had.

My eyes trailed along his shelves, taking a more in-depth look at his books and pictures and odds and ends that he'd saved over the years. There was so much history in his space. So many things that had been saved for a reason I couldn't know just by looking at him. Curiosity swelled in me, my mind running wild with all the possible reasons he'd held onto things. For the first time in a long time I wanted to ask questions and get closer to someone. I wanted to listen to him tell me every story and every detail about his life before I entered. I wanted to know every piece of him.

My fingers traced one of the seashells as his front door opened and he stepped inside with a bag from some diner. His eyes instantly found me, that shimmer in them making me blush and my heart soar. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I was gone so long.”

“It's no problem,” I answered, watching his eyes take in the clothes I now wore. “I… Uh… borrowed some of your clothes. I hope that's okay.”

As he set the bag down his eyes continued to roam down my body, that sinful smirk answering me long before his words did. “That's fine, though I was looking forward to coming back to a beautiful naked woman.”

“If you'd been quicker you woulda gotten that,” I teased. “I just barely got dressed.”

He clicked his tongue. “Damn. Maybe next time.”

Definitely next time, I thought as my mind played through all the new possibilities available to us now that we’d crossed the threshold. Clearing my throat, I moved to stand next to him as he unpacked the food, distractedly watching his hands for a second before asking, “What's for breakfast?”

“The works. Bacon, eggs, sausage, waffles,” he watched my nose scrunch up and chuckled before pulling a box out of the bag and setting it in front of me. “Don't worry, I got you pancakes.”

“You remembered,” I replied, eagerly opening it to the smell of the sweet stacks. “I'm impressed.”

With a shrug, Jake shooed the cat away and leaned back against the counter. “Don't be. It's not like it was a big secret.”

We both took a few tentative bites before neither of us could contain our nerves anymore. “So-”

“We-”

Chucking at one another's interruptions I nodded to him. “You go first.”

Jake watched me, the ocean in his eyes rolling with tense waves and anticipation. “Well, I guess now's as good a time as any for us to talk about last night… and the ones before.”

Don't freak out, I told myself. Just be honest. “Yeah, things have been… Interesting… between us lately.”

“Good interesting?” He asked with a cocky grin, taking a step closer to me. 

I nodded, “Great interesting. Right?”

“Right.”

“So…” The words caught in my throat as Jake took one last step closer, putting us chest to chest.

His breath, slightly sweet smelling, rolled across my face. “So…”

“I… I want t-” The front door swung open and the head of blonde hair made my teeth snap shut in anger. 

Simone stood in the open doorway, that red-lipped mouth hanging open in shock for a moment before it closed. Jake turned, brows furrowed and the tension between us quickly shifted into just tension. “...Simone?”

She smiled at him, quickly with no sincerity before she looked me up and down and nodded to herself. “Lena. What a surprise.”

I bit my tongue and simply nodded at her while my eyes scanned the floor for my shoes. Jake watched Hemingway dart to his hiding place before returning his attention to the new interruption. “How was your trip?”

The mood soured further as Simone just shook her head, her eyes wide with rage and the smile on her lips quickly shifting into a sneer. “Oh, it was just fantastic. I always love dealing with my mother alone.”

Time to go. I knew if I stayed for even another sentence Jake would be pulling me off Simone and everything between us would be stained with chunks of blonde hair and blood. I may have been able to see her for what she was, but Jake wasn’t and an attack on her - physical or otherwise - would effectively jeopardize everything I had or may have had with Jake. I pushed my hair behind my ears and hastily grabbed my things, quickly pulling on my shoes. “I should go.”

“You…” Jake started to protest, but quickly thought better of trying to keep Simone and I in a room together for longer than necessary. “We can finish this later.”

With a nod I pressed a soft kiss to his lips and forced myself to smile through the disappointment in an attempt to show him I was still ready to have the talk whenever we could find the time. “See you at work.”

“Yeah,” he answered softly, breathing out a slightly relieved sigh. “See you at work.”

As I turned I held Simone's glare, telling her without any words that she wasn't getting rid of me so easily. I grabbed the champagne bottle off the counter and slid out of Jake's apartment, closing the door behind me. The entire walk to Quinn’s I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat and kept repeating positive thoughts to keep myself from crying out of sheer frustration.

I let myself in, setting the champagne on the table next to Quinn and Ari who just looked at me in confusion. “Good morning?”

“Yeah… Morning or whatever,” I replied flopping onto Quinn's couch and melting into the cushions.

“Long night?”

“Was it bad?” Ari asked, practically jumping up from the table. “I didn't think Jake could fumble the bag when sex was involved.”

“Simoneshowedup,” I grumbled into the cushions.

Quinn settled on the arm of the couch. “Say again?”

Lifting my head I turned and glared at her. “We fucked. A lot. It was great and then right when we were about to have the talk Simone just invited herself in.”

Both Ari and Quinn's mouths formed an O. “Yikes.”

“Anything we can do?” Quinn asked, gently rubbing my back. 

Flopping back onto the couch I sighed. “Kill me.”

*

The second the door closed all hell broke loose. Simone threw her bags to the ground and angrily stomped around his kitchen to open the wine she'd brought. “Can we not do this?”

With a joyless laugh, she glared at him. “Not do what? Not keep our promises to each other? Cause you sure as hell have already started that.”

"Jesus," Jake breathed with a frustrated shake of his head. "It just barely happened. What did you want me to call you during and let you know?"

Simone glared at him, her lips thinning into that tight line. "Do not mock me, Jake.”

“I'm not mocking you. I just… I don't fucking understand what you want from me.” His whole body felt so tight he was sure he'd explode any second. “One minute you're telling me to do what I want and the next you're pissed at me for doing what I wanted to!”

“I want you to show me some goddamn respect!” She shouted, slamming her hand down on his counter. “I have been carrying you since you were eight years old and it has been the only thing I've asked of you! Yet you still find ways of failing at that too!”

Jake felt that ugly swell of tears burning behind his eyes. He felt his whole chest ache and his mind sluggishly repeat the word. Fail. Fail. Fail. That's all you ever fucking do. You fail Simone. You failed your mom. You'll fail Lena too. That's all you're good for. Gritting his teeth Jake forced himself to breathe. He forced himself to stay standing, to blink the tears away and speak, “I do respect you. I respect you more than anyone else! I just… It just barely happened, Simone. I was going to tell you the second I got the chance-”

“And when would that have been?” She asked the anger in her voice never wavering. “In a month? Two? Until I had to walk in on you?”

“It would have been when I saw you!” Jake shook his head. “I tell you everything, Simone. I always have, I always will. That's what we do. We tell each other things, we trust each other.” Slowly he could see Simone's shoulders relax and that glimmer of love return to her eyes. “Do you trust me?”

She finally abandoned the wine and gently took hold of his face. “Of course I do.”

The ache dulled as she stroked his cheeks and he finally felt like his lungs were filling with air instead of acid. “I was going to tell you.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I do. I just… It surprised me. And you know how much I hate surprises.”

“I'm sorry,” he whispered.

Simone smiled and pressed her lips to his, a kiss that once would have sent his heart soaring but now made his gut twist in his chest as he inevitably thought of Lena. She pulled back and nodded. “I know.”

“Are we good?”

“Yes. We are. Honestly, now I guess I’m…” Simone shook her head as she poured her wine and with a heavy sigh, Jake prepared himself for the word he knew far too well. Disappointed. “Relieved.”

“What?”

She picked at Lena's discarded dress, shrugging a shoulder as if she hadn't just been screaming at him over this. “It's done now. You've gotten it out of your system and things can finally get back to normal.”

In some sense she was right. It was done now. He tamed the tiger just like he'd wanted. Normally that did mean that Jake would move on and things would go back to normal. If Lena were anyone else he would probably fuck her a few more times before ultimately tossing her aside in favor of a new fling. But she wasn't anyone else, she was Lena…his Lena. 

Jake didn't want things to go back to normal. He didn't want to feel that emptiness - the weight of being so alone and detached - again. So, Jake stared at Simone as she tidied up his apartment drank wine, and lectured him about how rude and selfish it'd been of him to abandon her over the holiday. For an hour - one that should have been filled with Lena's soft touches and breathy moans - Jake listened to his every flaw being brought to the surface.

Usually, he'd bite back and argue - defend himself against Simone’s angry accusations and slanders. But, that morning he didn't bother. Jake was tired, frustrated, and now anxious. Simone's interruption had put him and Lena right back where they started. Their pile of rain checks had barely been touched and now they'd have to restart the awkward, nervous, avoidant dance around each other. Only this time it'd be worse because they'd actually fucked.

This time the longer they went without talking about it the more likely they both were to write it off as some one-night stand and just go back to how things had been before that first kiss. The longer he sat with that thought, the more obvious it became that he couldn't survive not talking about this. Jake needed to know how Lena felt. He needed her to know how he felt.

“Are you even listening to me?” Simone snapped with a disappointed sigh. Before he could answer she'd rolled her eyes and turned away from him. “Of course you aren't.”

God it was going to be a long day.

*

The locker room was filled with gossip as I entered and shoved Sasha off as he jumped around me practically squealing, “Let me see, let me see!”

“See what?”

“Baby Jakey's work!” He replied. “From your sex!”

I glared at Ari, who sheepishly smiled. “Oh… Were you not telling people?”

“Fuck off. All of you,” I warned, opening my locker and getting changed as quickly as I could to try and avoid Sasha's peeking. The Russian only let up when a familiar broad-shouldered bartender set his bike down and entered the locker room. 

“JAKEY!” Sasha purred. “Take your shirt off!”

Jake brushed past him, shaking his head. “Not in the mood Sasha.”

“Oohhhh,” he glanced between the two of us. “Was the sex that bad?”

I whirled around and slapped his forearm, cursing him in Russian until he retreated from the room giggling with Ari. “Fucking dickhead.”

Jake and I locked eyes. Desire and frustration vibrated between us, but neither of those made my heart drop… the uncertainty in Jake’s eyes, the new sliver of doubt shining back at me did. Had Simone talked him out of whatever this was? Had she dug those talons into his back hard enough for him to abandon the feelings I knew we both felt? Or had all of this… everything between us really just been part of some long game for him? 

My racing thoughts must have been obvious, because Jake took a step toward me, mouth open to try and say something before Simone stepped into the locker room, happily humming as if she hadn't interrupted us at all. The apologetic look in his eyes was the only thing that kept me from punching that smug blonde bitch in the back of the head. I ground my teeth together and turned around to finish getting ready.

I left the two of them and their small talk in the locker room and headed to the table for family meal. Howard, who looked slightly tanner, offered me an apologetic look of his own that I didn't understand until I sat down and my eyes found the new painting hanging on the wall. Right. That's a fucking thing.

The vivid orange petals were splattered with red. I found my mind having to remind itself that it'd been wine instead of blood this time. The jagged cuts in the canvas and its slightly bent shape made it all too clear what'd happened to this particular empty showcase.

The glass shattered over the top of the painting at my feet, wine sloshing over the half-painted petals and the shards of glass slicing the canvas where it struck. If this had been any other circumstance I would have admired how artistic it made the piece look. But this was just another bender.

Tony lay on the ground next to the broken glass, laughing. It didn't matter how much or how loud he laughed, I could see the tired bags under his eyes and the hazed far off look that made me wonder if there was some human part of him deep inside. I almost pitied him, if just for one fragmented moment. 

Jules checked his pulse and shoved my painting aside to keep him away from the broken glass. Turning to me he nodded to the mostly incoherent man at his side. “Stay with him while I get the doctor.”

“Of course,” I obediently answered, moving to kneel beside Tony. Jules gave my shoulder a soft squeeze as he stood and hurried toward the elevator.

My eyes fixated on the broken shards of glass just a few inches away. I could easily take one and shove it into his neck or cut his wrists. I could make it look like an accident… Like he'd done it to himself. Before the fear or the guilt could stop me I was reaching for the largest shard.

“Lena…” Tony mumbled, voice quivering as his glazed-over eyes searched for me. “Lena?”

“I'm here,” I answered quietly, my finger lingering on the glass as I looked down at him.

He relaxed instantly at the sound of my voice, lifting his hand to search for me in the dimly lit living room. “I… I can't see. Lena?”

Pity, understanding, and sympathy slowly replaced the darker thoughts in my head. With a gentle sigh, I slid closer to him, taking his hand in mine and pulling Tony into my lap. “I'm here.”

“W… Will you stay?” He mumbled kissing my hand. “Will you stay with me?”

The reply was practically instant… trained. “Of course.”

Tony set my hand against his chest, forcing me to feel the beating of his heart that cruelly reminded me he was a living, breathing human being. “Promise?”

Staring down at the floor of broken glass and then at the tender, beautiful face of the man I hated and feared and… Loved… I nodded. The words sounded sincere but filled my chest with a numbness that made it hard to breathe. “I promise.”

It was a low blow, reminding me of my supposed love for him. Reminding me that I'd made promises… Attempting to guilt me back into obedience. What was worse though, was that it worked.

In an entirely, uniquely twisted… Fucked up way my whole body went into some old, automatic tense posture. My chest burned with shame and my head filled with guilt-riddled thoughts. You broke his heart. You abandoned him. You said you'd never leave… Grinding my teeth together and balling my hands into fists I forced myself to remember the truth.

Being with Tony hadn't just been lavish gifts and eloquent love letters and expensive trips abroad. Those moments were far and few between. Being with him was filled with venom and rage. Being with him meant being held down, fighting… Aching. It was full of bloodied knuckles, bruises, and broken glass. Obey or be punished. Obey or starve. Obey or drown. 

It wasn't love, I told myself, forcing that thought to be louder than all the others. What we had was never love.

*

Jake sat across the table from her, silently cursing himself for not offering her the reassurance she clearly needed in the locker room. The glassy, scared look in her eyes as she picked up on that tiny part of him that doubted if he deserved her, was stuck in his mind like a sliver. Beside him, Simone quietly ate her food while all he could do was watch Lena. Her eyes hadn’t met his again, unsteady they were fixed past him on the flower painting that now hung on the wall. He could see so much emotion raging in her distant eyes. Fear, fondness, guilt, shame. It wasn't like the other paintings. Those had just made her afraid, angry but this… This was one of those things he didn't understand and it made his chest tighten.

The only thing that drew his gaze away from her was the neatly pressed suit and the fucking pervert that wore it. Howard was back. To his credit, the manager barely looked at him, but Jake could still see the faint bruises that he'd done his vest to conceal. With steady steps Howard approached Lena, one hand holding a bottle while the other lifted, moving toward her shoulder.

Howard's eyes locked with his and Jake did his best to convey the ass-kicking he'd be dishing out if he so much as tried to touch her. Do it. I fucking dare you. At the last second his hand shifted to the back of the chair and a smug sense of pride made Jake's mouth twitch into a smile.

“A gift…” Howard told her carefully, setting the wine down in front of her. “An apology for my involvement.”

Lena’s gaze slowly drifted away from the painting to glare at the bottle. For a moment, her face remained expressionless before a thin, bitter smile spread on her lips. “Expensive.”

“And one of your favorites.”

She said nothing as she stood and began pouring the wine into her glass. Lena's eyes were fixed on Howard even as the glass began to overflow, wine staining the white tablecloth in seconds. The manager pursed his lips, disappointment and a mild look of frustration playing out on his still slightly discolored face. No one said a single word as the bottle finally ran empty and Lena set it back down.

Howard sighed. “Was that truly necessary?”

Still, without a single word, Lena knocked the glass over, sending wine down the table. She strode past him and toward the kitchen just as everyone at the table burst with laughter and gossip. Jake leaned back in his seat and grinned at Howard, enjoying every second of the manager's hateful gaze.

Simone looked at the mess with a disapproving shake of her head. “Such a waste.”

Howard's glare shifted to Sasha and Ari as they continued their laughter. With a snap of his fingers and a swift gesture to the mess he barked out the order, “You two, please get this tablecloth in a soak and clean this up?”

“No fair,” Ari pouted quietly as they started cleaning. “Tiger Bitch makes a mess and we have to clean it.”

“Nepotism,” Sasha answered almost flippantly. “Tiger Bitch is special baby.”

Jake took his plate and Simone's back to the kitchen, eyes finding Lena among the dish crew with ease. She had her head down, focused completely on washing the dishes in the sink. As he set his dirty plates down he watched the water, trying to gauge how hot it was in an attempt to tell how fucked up the painting and Howard had her. It was bad, but not as bad as the first time.

He didn't want to leave her, not when she was like this. A hand waved in his peripheral vision, drawing his gaze to the line where Isaac nodded him toward the door. A silent but reassuring message that he'd keep an eye on her through this shift. Jake spared one last look to the back of her head before he sighed and left the kitchen.

Service felt longer than it should have. Wave after wave of rich assholes poured through the door and gawked at that painting hanging on the wall with Lena's name on it. It made him feel angry and sick to his stomach even just imagining what horrible memory she'd tried to bury in that paint. And there these fuckers were, complimenting it… Calling it a masterpiece. Worse than that Jake knew that even if they knew the full story they'd still find it just as fascinating - maybe even more.

As he made the drinks and served the guests in front of him, Jake made it a point to glare at Howard. The disgusting man was practically trying to sell the damn thing. He stood beside the crowd, pointing out the details of the piece and praising the painter, who he'd already revealed worked in the restaurant. When he'd walked past the bar toward the kitchen it took all of Jake's willpower not to hit him again.

Only a minute had passed before his heart dropped into his stomach at the sound of shattering dishes. In an instant Jake was moving towards the kitchen doors, his heartbeat practically echoing her name. Just as he reached the end of the bar, Sasha fled the scene with a deviant smile, effectively blocking Jake's path. “The hell happened?”

“Tiger Bitch is not in a playful mood tonight,” The Russian answered. “Dear Howard was telling her that some of the guests wanted to speak with her about her painting and she just held up a plate,” he illustrated the throwing movement as well as the crash with his hands, “She threw a plate and told him she'd throw one every time he spoke to her.”

A part of him couldn't help but feel satisfied at how hostile she was acting towards Howard. She may not have known what he did, but Jake was glad she was giving him hell even if it wasn't for the worst of his crimes against her. But, beneath that satisfaction was the simmering worry that it would all be too much for Lena to handle and he'd have to watch her spiral into another night of panic and drowning her fears in alcohol. 

Sasha watched his face, reading it carefully as he set his head in his hands and leaned on the bar in front of Jake. “Something about those paintings puts Tiger in a bad mood.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he replied curtly.

“Tell me what you know, pretty Jake,” he urged. 

Jake leaned forward, looking around them for a moment as if he cared about who could hear them. “I know you should get the fuck off my bar and back to work.”

The Russian cursed and waved him off. “Ha ha, you so funny.” With a thoughtful look, he shifted his question, “So, what's next?”

“Next?” Jake asked with a pointed look.

Sasha smirked and gave him an innocent shrug. “Well, now that you've tamed the tiger you'll be taking on a new project, yes? A new hostess maybe?”

Turning his head to the hostess stand Jake caught the new girl bashfully averting her eyes from the bar. In the past, he would have felt a thrill at the idea of stringing along another sweet, innocent hostess… But now when he looked at her and saw those blushing cheeks that told him she was interested all he could think of was how boring it'd be. No one would ever be able to offer him even a fraction of what he had with Lena.

No one else would challenge him the way she did. It didn't matter how pretty the hostess was, she wouldn't tease him encourage him, or support him the way the redhead did. No one could be more beautiful than her, funnier than her, smarter than her, more badass, or fearless. No one would be Lena and if it wasn't her… Well, he just didn't want it.

“Nah,” Jake finally replied, returning to his work. “No new projects.”

Sasha made a shocked face and with a quiet, almost supportive hum he asked, “Who really tamed who?”

*

The second service ended, I grabbed my shit and left out the alley door. I'd wanted to wait for Jake to talk to him, but after seeing that painting and having Howard tell me about the requests some rich asshole made to meet me… It was too much. As I wandered the brisk city, desperately trying to force the pit in my stomach to dissolve with the movement, I had to continuously pull myself from wave after wave of old thoughts trying to plague me with guilt and make me doubt what I knew to be true.

It wasn't love. It was never love.

Everything I'd been through, all the years I'd spent moving on, and all it took was one painting to make me feel like that sad, lonely, dead little girl. One painting and in whatever fucking twisted way I was looking back on the times when Tony made me laugh or smile or feel anything good. Those memories were ones I had to combat with the truth and the truth meant remembering and remembering meant I couldn't just pretend like everything was fine.

Tony had not only been in the restaurant but had weaseled his way into Howard's ear, and quite possibly my aunt's. He'd hung the paintings to elicit a very specific response and I'd played right into it. The larger message was simple. It was a reminder that in this game we were playing, he was the king. He snapped his fingers and everyone would play whatever tune he wanted, me included.

Fear, anger, guilt. What was his next move? I wondered as I had many times before. And just like every time before, I hadn't the faintest idea. Even with all the time I'd spent with him to give me a clear picture of who he was and how he thought, I'd never been able to predict his moves. The one thing I knew to be a certainty was there wasn't a damn thing he wouldn't do and that meant everything I loved was at stake… that meant the people closest to me were in danger.

Ozzy, Peter, Patrick, Quinn, Prue, Nana, Abdul, Isaac, Dom, Scott, Ari, Sasah… Jake. They were all possible targets for Tony to choose from. It was terrifying to think about and so I forced myself to not think about it. The lights over Ozzy's bar eventually flashed ahead of me as I did my best to shed myself of the powerless feeling that was now firmly rooted in my stomach. I had to keep moving forward, even blindly. I had to focus on the good around me, even if it was just a tiny speck of it.

He wouldn't take this from me. He would never take anything from me again.

As I made my way to the door I heard the rumble of Dom's bike engine and felt a sense of relief wash over me. As he pulled into the bike spaces I reminded myself of my one advantage in this fucked up game. I had Dom. He wouldn't let anything bad happen. Not ever again.

He had a tired look in his eyes as he flung his leg over the side and stood, thanking the bikers around him as they followed suit.

“Busy day?” I called out, drawing his attention to me.

A thought made his brows pinch together as he sighed and walked toward me. “Yeah.”

As he walked with me through the bar door a faint, floral smell lingered on his jacket. I leaned in, smelling him a bit deeper. “You open a flower shop or something?”

“Huh?”

“You smell all flowery,” I replied tugging on his jacket.

Dom's face drained of any emotion as he shrugged. “Right. Yeah, I… Had some business with a florist.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “Are you back in the game of wooing Mav?”

“No.”

“Oh come on, you can tell me!” I playfully urged. “You know I'm in full support of your “marriage”.”

With a sigh he stopped, gently placing a hand on my arm. “Lena… There's something we should talk about.”

A sudden tightness seized my throat at his serious tone and blank expression. “What's going on?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sasha and the group waving their hands in the air, urging me to hurry and join them. “Tiger! Come on!”

Dom glanced at them and quickly shook his head. “I… just wanted to give you a heads up that Nana's got a big celebration planned for your birthday.”

“Oh.” A relieved breath left my lungs in the form of an anxious chuckle. “Oh, good. Fuck, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he quietly replied.

“It's okay. I promised Nana she could go all out this year and… I dunno…” Glancing back at my group, at my brothers and Quinn and Prue, the restaurant crew… Jake… I smiled. I had these people in my life. They may have been in danger by being here - being close to me - but they were here nonetheless. None of them cared about possible dangers, they still chose to be here with me. The weight that had made everything feel so heavy slowly eased as I looked at my friends… my family and smiled wider. “Maybe it won't be so bad this year.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he mumbled, giving me a pat on the head. “That's real good, kid. Now go on. Enjoy your night or whatever.”

I caught his arm before he could go too far, squeezing it and offering him a sad smile. “You been to visit her yet?”

Dom's whole body tensed. He likely thought I forgot, or maybe he just didn’t want to talk about it, but with a quick shake of his head, he answered “No… I don't know if I'm gonna this year.”

“Well if you do, tell her I said hi.” I knew that Dom didn't really believe in ghosts or angels. I knew to him Sarah wouldn't hear him or even know if he'd visited at all, but every year I still encouraged him to go to her grave as some kind of birthday gift to her. He had yet to do it, but I could tell that speaking of her fondly from time to time - acknowledging that his sister existed and had been important - helped ease the hurt in him a little.

But, tonight that didn't seem to be the case.

Dom averted his gaze, cleared his throat, and nodded to the group with a firm, “Go on.”

The chaos of the night continued as expected. My friends and their antics helped me push all the bad the day had to offer back into their boxes and as I met Jake's eyes over the bartop. I was scared that he’d still have that speck of doubt lingering in those beautiful eyes, but as he stared back at me all I could see was the desire. It reminded me of the good… of the possibility that I could have something normal.

Remembering how right it felt to kiss him, to feel him in every way physically possible made me flush with a shameless want to do it all again. Jake's never-faltering gaze didn't help either. It was like he knew exactly what I was thinking and that he wholeheartedly agreed. As the night progressed and the bar slowly started to slow I found myself avoiding leaving it. The pit in my stomach, though lessened still filled me with a lingering and old voice urging me to take the quickest, easiest path away from potential heartache. End it.

That conversation we didn't get to have was now right in front of me and I felt scared. Terrified that something had changed. If Jake told me he wanted to move on from last night it would gut me. But if he said he wanted us to be something official… That thought made me feel almost as sick, just in a different way. Get him as far away from you as possible.

How many men had come before him? All of whom I'd deeply felt for and all of whom Tony had destroyed in some way or another. So what would he do to Jake? What would Tony do to the man that I cared for most… The man who was different from every other in a way I didn't even fully understand. Protect him.

Ozzy set a hand on my shoulder and nudged me to the door. “Go on and get some rest, dear. You've helped enough.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, accepting the kiss on the head and making my way out the back door where I attempted to steel myself.

The gym was quiet, with only a few lights left on to illuminate the old pictures on the walls. As I looked at my dad's smiling face in every photo that scared voice in me quieted, instead replaced by his. “Why you gotta fight me every step of the way?”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” I’d replied coldly, angry and terrified. Dad had done nothing but offer me love and acceptance since I’d gotten back for the summer, two things I knew weren’t given away for free. He wanted something but instead of telling me what it was chose to play some cruel game instead. 

My dad’s shoulders slumped slightly, a sigh falling from his lips as he stared down at me with a pitiful look. I prepared myself for his disappointment, but it never came. “I don’t want anything from you, Lena.”

Shaking my head I swallowed hard. “Everyone wants something from me.”

“Alright,” he finally relented. “I do want one thing. I want you to live.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I asked, timid but still angry. 

“You’re alive, sure,” he replied, carefully reaching out to touch my shoulder. “But this ain’t living. This hostile… bitterness you’re carrying, it’s not what life’s supposed to be like. Especially not for a kid.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, guilt filling my lungs as another failure was added to the list.

Dad bent down, forcing our eyes to meet, and smiled. “Don’t be sorry. It ain’t your fault. Just… let us help you. Let me help you, sweet girl.”

With tears building in my eyes, I answered, “Okay. I… Sorry I’ve been making it so hard for you.”

He pulled me into his arms and kissed my head. “You make my life, all our lives, better just by bein here. All we want is for you to see that…” He pulled away, taking my face in his hands and smushing my cheeks the way he thought was funny. “Come on. Let’s go start livin, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The sound of the alley door opening spurred me back into motion. As I headed up the stairs to the apartment I could hear Jake's steady footsteps following me. His movements didn’t sound rushed or hesitant, just steady. My heart hammered in my chest and my head filled with a hundred thoughts, a hundred voices all shouting different things at me. Jake appeared in the stairwell, hands in his pockets as he put one foot on the bottom step before stopping himself. “Now a good time to talk?”

The longer I looked down at him the quieter my mind got. Nodding I opened the door and shrugged. “As good a time as we’re probably gonna get.”

He trudged up the stairs with a faint smile on his face and all the noise, all the extra baggage weighing me down fell away. The smell of alcohol, faint cigarette smoke and Jake’s colognue reminded me that I was here. I was in this moment, not the ones in Tony’s paintings or in picture frames. I was here. I was alive and now I wanted to live.

Jake stepped inside and quietly watched me as I closed the door behind him. “You okay?”

“Yeah!” I replied, clearing my throat and taking a tensely casual position by the table. “Why wouldn't I be?”

He shrugged. “You seemed to be kind of somewhere else today… after seeing that painting.”

My jaw clenched as the ugly emotions in me wanted to return. “Yeah… That wasn't great but, I'm okay now.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.” I laughed a little to myself, forcing my body to focus on that feeling of steadiness and safety that Jake’s presence brought me. “Besides, we have other stuff we need to talk about, don't we?”

Now he looked just as nervous as I felt. “Yeah.”

“We're kind of horrible at this, aren't we?”

Jake nodded in agreement, chuckling before he spoke, “Yeah… okay… Fuck it, I'm just gonna start. Neither of us do well with labels,” Jake offered before quickly stammering over his own words. “Not that I'm against labeling this as… Whatever. I just mean…”

“Why put a label on things when we're still figuring out exactly what things are?” I finished, ignoring the slight sting of disappointment that festered in my chest by focusing on the wave of relief.

“Exactly.” He scratched his head and cleared his throat. “So… We… keep it casual.”

“Casual,” I agreed. Casual was fun, predictable but most importantly safe. Casual was familiar to both of us and given everything that had happened - changed in our lives and in our friendship - maybe that was a safety net we both needed. 

Casual.

Jake nodded, taking a careful step forward. “If someone were to ask what we were… What would we say to that?”

I watched his lips, resisting the urge to end all the tedious talking by kissing him. “We'd say we're casually seeing each other? Friends with benefits? Fuck buddies? Whatever feels right to you I'm fine with.”

“So, you're a girl I'm seeing… casually?”

Nodding I forced myself to meet his eyes, not that it helped either of us stay on track. “And you're a boy I'm seeing casually.”

Jake's hands slid around me, urging me to lean into him. With that simple touch, everything else faded into the back of my mind. I felt myself relax into him, my body finally able to focus on those tingling sensations of desire and excitement. “And since we're seeing each other, casually, it'd be perfectly normal for us to kiss, right?”

“I think it'd be expected, really.”

“Good,” he mumbled, running his thumb over my lower lip. “I liked being your friend and all, but I don't think I can go any longer without fucking you again.”

As if it had a mind of its own my tongue slipped out to lick his thumb and tug it between my teeth for a second. I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing, teasing… Testing the waters… Inviting him to fuck me as much as he wanted? “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Smirking, he brushed my hair behind my ears. “That.”

His lips further erased every ounce of tension, guilt, disappointment, and fear from my lungs. The way his hands cradled my face replaced everything with a warm fuzzy sense of safety. The painting, Howard, Simone… Nothing else mattered. As long as I had this, him, somehow I knew everything would be alright. 

When he pulled back for air he smiled with a quiet sigh. “This is how our morning should have gone. Sorry about Simone.”

“It's alright. We’re here now.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, leaning back down towards me. “I haven't been able to think about anything else all day.”

Before our lips could connect again I threw one last taunt at him, “I knew you liked being my friend.”

Jake rolled his eyes, warm hands sliding down my cheek to take hold of my hips. “God you're insufferable.”

I ran my hands down his chest and whispered against his lips, “You like it.”

“Shut up.” Our lips finally touched, soft hands quickly turning into heated grabs at one another's clothes.

With a half step forward Jake pressed me into the back of a kitchen chair. His tongue invaded my mouth as his hands pulled my sleeves away from my shoulders, clearing a path for his lips and teeth to follow. The way his lips felt against my skin was something that made me shiver. Jake was… How had he put it? Adept in the art of pleasure? Smug bastard… And completely right.

“God,” Patrick groaned the second he opened the door. His hand slapped over his face, covering his eyes and sighing in defeat. “Guess I should get used to that now that you two are officially a thing.”

“Casually,” Jake and I both corrected.

My brother blindly made his way around the kitchen table. “Yeah yeah, “casually” whatever ya say. Just keep alla that “casual” touchy-feely shit in your room or something.”

“Sorry,” we both mumbled watching Patrick run into his bedroom door before quickly opening it and fleeing inside.

I nodded to my bedroom door and smiled as I tugged Jake toward it. He followed, pushing the door closed behind him. I practically pounced on him, pressing my chest into his as I pulled his head down to reconnect our lips. Jake stumbled slightly causing the door to rattle. Before we could say anything else Irish folk music blared through Pat’s speakers. A crystal clear message.

“Shhh,” I whispered against his collarbone with a giggle. “We have to be quiet!”

“I'm not the one that needs to worry about that.” To prove his point he took a handful of my ass and ground himself against my core, pulling a sharp - loud - moan from me.

“Nope! I'm leaving!” Patrick shouted as the music turned off. “You two have an hour before Pete gets back! For the love of god, be done before then!”

I smirked at Jake. “Now I finally have you all to myself.”

“Looks that way,” he replied. “You gonna entertain me?”

“Of course! What kind of host would I be if I didn't?”

His eyes sparkled with lust as he watched my mouth move. “Well, what's your plan?”

Leaning in I pressed my lips to his neck, occupying my hands with his belt and starting the slow drag of my body down his. When my knees hit the floor and I'd gotten Jake's pants down I looked up at him, fluttering my lashes and smiling at him. “I'm sure I'll think of something you'll enjoy.”

*

My dearest Lena,

In the unlikely event you're reading this letter I simply wished to send you a simple reminder of my devotion to you. A token of my love will be finding its way to your door soon and soon we will be reunited once more.

Yours, Anthony

Dom stared at the letter, examining each line as meticulously as he would an engine. He needed to know what the sick bastard had planned. Needed to know how to protect her from whatever was coming. Tony wouldn't make it easy or fair. He never did and this time was different. He was braver than before, bolder in his actions than Dom had ever seen him. 

After the beating he'd given him upon hearing all he'd done to Lena, Tony should have been cowering in some far corner of the world. He should have been terrified to even set foot in the city again and yet there he was, in her apartment, waving at her landlord, waving at him. 

The longer he held the evidence of Tony's visit the more guilty he felt for keeping it secret. Lena deserved to know. Her brothers had the right to know about the danger. They all deserved better than he could give them.

With a sigh, he lifted the lighter to the corner of the paper and watched the fire spread to the cursive words in ink. He dropped it into the empty bin and picked the orange flower up off the table before tossing it into the fire too.

He should have killed Tony a hundred times by now. A mistake he wasn't going to make again. Then and there Dom silently vowed that the next time he saw that fuckers face he'd put a bullet between his eyes.

[pearlstiare]

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐎𝐘. 𝘫𝘢𝘬𝘦 ( 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Jake x Therapist!Reader

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒: she/her

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: Work in Progress - Coming Soon.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After another fight with Simone, Jake has an encounter with a Woman. Meeting that is going to change everything for him.

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ: 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭 𝘉𝘰𝘺 (𝘞𝘐𝘗)

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘉𝘰𝘺 (𝘞𝘐𝘗)

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ: 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘛𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘰 (𝘞𝘐𝘗)

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘌𝘺𝘦𝘴 (𝘞𝘐𝘗)

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒!

𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: English is not my first language so if I make a mistake please let me know. Writing is not my full-time job so expect slow updates on my blog since I’m a full-time college student and worker, I write because it is fun for me not because it is my job.

[tarotoftheendless]

A while back, I made a post about Jake from Sweetbitter wearing just a sweater that Tom just actually owns. It seems like this sweater and then that white and red dotted button up have made many appearances. I think Tom is just asked to come to set or a photoshoot in his own clothes, it's adorable and I love it.

He does this in Irma Vep too, lolz 😂🤣

[endlessbittersweetdreams]

I hope my readers are still invested and interested in "Passion Play." There hasn't been much feedback on my last few chapters. I hope you guys haven't grown bored with Jake and Robyn's story because I have so much more to tell. I am plotting out events that will take place in the next chapter, which will take place during Halloween.

Please don't give up on them or on me! Your feedback means a great deal to me.

@anastacia-lynn

@kimmyiewrites

@ladyredstar1991

@mypsychoticlove

@peageetibbs

@thepaintedlady00

@rey-jake-therapist

@tarotoftheendless

[tarotoftheendless]

His face in the first one 🥵 being able to touch his ass like that 🥵 touching his face like that 🥵

I'm in love with him... Both Jake and Tom...

SWEETBITTER - Tess & Jake 

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 22 | Chapter 24

Holy shit it's been a minute! Hi y'all! I'm back! Life's been absolutely insane lately and finding the time or the inspiration to write has just been really hard the past month or so. So, sorry this has taken so long to get out, but to make it up to y'all here's a 40 PAGE chapter! 😅😂 TW: THIS TW CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS! The usual, language, smoking, drinking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, some very painful memories, mentions of abuse/neglect, mentions/descriptions of nudity and inappropriate photos of a minor, violence, blood, character death, panic attacks, general not so good stuff is gonna go down, unhealthy coping mechanisms (aka ignoring all the shit going wrong until we can't anymore), make out scenes, dirty talk, some minor roleplay if you squint, and finally some fuckin SMUT! Yeah, the will they won't they train has FINALLY left the station! We've got some teasing, foreplay, oral female & male receiving (kind of a little), penetration, nipple play, idk what else to tell ya xD And a little bit of unhealty family drama at the end of it :) Also it's super late where I live so this chapter was very VERY roughly edited, so if ya see any mistakes, no you don't xD

Chapter 23: Oysters & Champagne

The greatest changes happen with time. It is the slow, steady progression that paves the way forward for bigger, brighter things. The shift between day and night, the methodical building of new cities and roads, and the lowering of one's guard to allow connection and emotion to take hold. The greatest things often happen slowly, then all at once.

As I watched Jake sign to Prue from across the diner table, taking her feedback with a determination I wouldn't have expected from him when we'd first met, it was hard not to think of Rada's old saying. “Slowly, then all at once,” Rada explained as she helped guide my brush into lighter, slower strokes. “See? Rome was not built in a day my Lena, your painting will not be perfected in that time either.”

So much had changed in the past months that it was hard to even remember how it all began. In the beginning, Jake had been just another annoying bad-boy bartender that wanted a quick easy fuck and I'd been just another closed-off, flighty back waiter. Yet, here we were, sitting side by side in a diner booth. It was strange to think that when we'd first met I wanted nothing to do with him or his flirtatious advances and now… Now I couldn't imagine a moment without him.

“Okay, okay, let me try this,” he said with a sly grin. “Your boyfriend is a pussy.”

Prue rolled her eyes, but admitted, “You're improving.”

“Thank you,” he beamed, clearly pleased with himself and his joke.

She reached over the table and flicked his head. “You're an ass.”

Jake rubbed his forehead as I laughed. “You deserved that.”

“Worth it.”

As we happily resumed eating our breakfasts the diner door opened and slammed shut. Quinn tore her jacket off and threw it into the booth as she slid in and picked up her menu. It'd been like this for a few days. Quinn would show up pissed off about something, we'd ask, she'd tell us it was nothing and then she'd get drunk every night. It was an obvious cycle of coping, the question was what she was coping with.

Prue and I shared a glance, trying to work out the best way to approach the subject. Jake, however, just went straight into speaking, “What's crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing,” she ground out glaring at him from behind her menu.

He laughed. “And you call me grumpy.”

Something in her finally broke. “Fuck you, at least I have a reason to be so grumpy!”

“Yeah?” He continued to press, the asshole in him just unable to contain his glee at getting a rise out of someone. “Like what?”

“Like my dumbass fucking dad showing up!”

The silence that followed was interrupted by the sound of our forks clacking against the plates. Quinn's dad was something serious, something that rarely came up anymore but serious all the same. He was a known addict who spent her entire childhood bouncing between neglect and full-fledged abuse. When Quinn lived across the street from us we could hear him yelling and throwing things at all hours of the day. At night he'd leave, sometimes for weeks at a time, and Quinn would essentially come and live with us until her dad came pounding on our door demanding his kid back.

My dad had beat the shit out of him more times than I could remember, but other than that there wasn't much we could do, not when Quinn refused to let us. For years she held out hope that her dad would one day get things figured out and they could be a real family. That hope died when she turned sixteen and he disappeared. After she'd grown up and gotten on her own two feet he started showing up at random asking for money or a place to stay while he “figured some things out”, but that always ended the same. With Quinn brokenhearted.

“Your dad's back in town?” I asked. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“It doesn't matter,” she responded.

“Yes, it does! We all know what he puts you through, Quinn. We could-”

“You could do nothing because unlike you I don't have two big brothers and a drug dealer on speed dial.” The harsh words settled over the table, sinking into both of us for a minute before Quinn shook her head and relented to the tired ache in her. “I… I'm sorry, Lee. I didn't mean that.”

“It's okay,” I reassured her, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I know.”

Tears built in her eyes but she wouldn't cry, not because of him, not ever again. “I told him to fuck off already so he's probably halfway back into whatever hole he crawled out of.”

Prue put her arm around Quinn's shoulder and hugged her. “Want us to stay with you? I can close up shop for the day.”

“I can call in,” I offered.

“I can say pussy,” Jake added, getting a laugh out of her. “Seriously though, I dunno what they're saying but… Fuck your dad.”

She sniffled and shook off the wave of sorrow. “Thanks, all of you, but I'm good.”

Holding out her pinky Prue gave her a look. “Pinky swear?”

Quinn shook it and nodded. “Pinky swear.”

“And, just for the record,” I said, “My brothers would always come to help you, Quinn. So would Dom. You're not alone.”

“I know,” she whispered, but I could see what was left unsaid in her eyes. It's not the same. We may have been Quinn's found family, but the hurt in her was the same as Patrick felt. She knew she wasn't blood… She knew if it came to a choice between me and her my brothers would choose me every time. And nothing I said or did would change her mind on it.

The ring of Jake's phone broke the uneasy silence. He checked the number with narrow eyes. “It's Dom.”

“Dom's calling you?” Quinn questioned, forcing herself to relax even just partially.

“Okay, what did you guys do that day I was gone?” I teased. “First he's actually using your government name, then he's calling you on the phone?”

Jake shushed me as he answered. “Hey, what's up? Uh… No, I don't. Sure, I guess. Yeah, see you in a bit.”

“What was that about?”

“Apparently I'm getting a couch and a TV.”

I shook my head and nudged him. “Seriously, what did you do?”

Jake shrugged, taking a final bite of his food before standing. “Don't worry bout it, Princess. See you at work.”

“See you at work,” I replied. “Don't break any legs trying to move that shit into your tiny apartment.”

He flipped me off as he made his way out the diner door and headed out. When I turned back to the table Quinn and Prue were both grinning at me. “You've seen his apartment now?”

“It's not a big deal,” I replied.

“Is this part of that juicy phone call I intercepted a while ago?” Her eyebrows rose. “A sexy debt if I remember correctly.”

“I have no clue what you're talking about.”

Prue slapped her hands on the table. “Spill it!”

“There's nothing to spill,” I insisted.

“Bullshit!” Quinn interjected. “You were gone all day.”

With a roll of my eyes and a giddy, girlish feeling making my stomach fill with butterflies I caved. “We just hung out and took a few pictures with his camera.”

Quinn's brows wiggled. “Sexy pictures?”

“Maybe…” 

Prue happily squeaked. “Oh my god did you two finally-”

“No.”

Quinn groaned, throwing her head back. “Oh my god! Just fuck already!”

I shook my head. “Classy, Quinn.”

“Seriously!” She continued. “I feel like I'm getting blue balled and I'm not even involved in your almost fucks!”

“Just think about how great it would feel to finally do it,” Prue added. “I know I was absolutely buzzing when Will and I finally did!”

“I…” With a sigh I looked down and quickly, quietly admitted. “I have thought about it.”

Quinn quickly translated for Prue and both of them became insatiable for the rest of breakfast.

*

Jake watched the bikers easily maneuver the decently sized couch and the modest TV around the stairs and up into his apartment. He'd attempted to help a few times but quickly got told to “bugger off” by what looked like an eighty-year-old man, so he just stood and watched. Dom stood next to him, silently observing before he finally asked, “Well, what do you think?”

“It looks good,” he answered. “Still a bit confused as to why you're giving me this shit but hey, frees free.”

Dom chuckled, a real chuckle. “I don't got the room for it, besides, you earned it.”

Shaking his head, Jake once again reiterated the facts. “I didn't do anything. I just-”

“You just protected her,” Dom finished for him. “That ain’t nothin’, Jake.”

“Yeah, but I don't need… Payment or anything for it.” He looked at Dom, meeting the hardened eyes. “I didn't do it for that.”

“I know.” The drug dealer clapped him on the shoulder. “Consider it a gift then.”

“Didn't take you for a guy that gave out gifts.”

“I'm not, so just say thank you and we'll never speak of it again.”

Jake chuckled. “Thank you, Dom.”

“Shut up,” he answered, nodding to the new space. “It's a bit crowded.”

With a shrug, Jake just examined the soft leather. “It's not too bad. I'm used to tight spaces.”

Hemingway leaped onto the sofa, purring as he rubbed the soft leather on his skin. “Well, at least the cat likes it.” Dom watched the others leave and moved to follow. “Call me if you can't get the TV workin'. I'll have John come out and fix it.”

“John's the one that calls me a twit, right?”

“Yep.”

“I'm sure the TV works fine.” He waved them off and closed the door, staring at the tiny living room he now had set up.

It wasn't perfect or fancy, most people would even argue that it was too much for the already cramped space, but Jake kind of liked it. His chair had gotten pushed into the back corner with his guitar on top of it. The edges of the couch left only a little room for people to slide past to the bathroom, but he rarely had company over so that didn't matter much. The TV fit on top of one of his shelves and left enough room for him to put DVDs or VHS tapes up too. He'd moved the thin coffee table he never used into the center of the space, pushing it up against the shelf a bit so there was enough legroom for the couch and then he sat down.

“Well,” he asked, turning towards the cat. “What do you think?”

Hemingway's only response was a loud purr as he curled up on the section of couch that was bathed in sunlight. 

Jake chuckled at the creature and settled into the leather, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Yeah, it's pretty nice.”

*

22West was relatively quiet when I got in. The kitchen was almost done with prep work and from what I could tell we weren't overbooked. The locker room was empty and stayed empty as I changed into my work attire. It felt kind of nice, to have a moment of quiet to myself at the start of a hopeful easy shift.

Jake set his bike down by the door and quickly entered, hair still disheveled. I closed my locker and smirked at him. “You're running later than normal.”

“I fell asleep,” he answered, practically tearing the locker open and throwing his newly returned jacket to me. I opened my mouth to protest, but he just gave me a look over his shoulder, “Just let this one be easy for me tonight?”

“Fine,” I agreed, reopening my locker and shoving the jacket inside. “Just this once.”

“Thanks, princess.”

“How was moving your couch in?”

Jake just chuckled. “I barely touched the damn thing. The bikers took care of everything.”

I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they're pretty efficient when they wanna be. So, are you ever gonna spill the beans on why you're all so buddy-buddy all of a sudden?”

He glanced at me, a fleeting thing shining in his eyes before he looked down at his tie and shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell, really. I just came looking for you and they… Respected that.”

Glaring at him through narrow eyes I reached up and helped him with his tie. “Likely story.”

“You worried they'll start to like me better than you?” He teased.

“As if!” I laughed. “You're not nearly that charming.”

With a smirk, Jake leaned forward, “So how charming do you think I am?”

Humming in thought I knew the real answer. The instant, resounding too charming filled my brain for a minute before I answered. “I'd say you're a solid four.”

“Four?!” He scoffed. “I'm higher than four.”

“You certainly think so,” I replied with a wicked grin, my hands smoothing down his chest. His phone buzzed against the metal material of his locker. “I'll save you a plate, sweetie.”

Rolling his eyes he answered with a simple, “Thanks.”

Once I'd emerged from the kitchen the noise that the restaurant had been absent of, filled the space. Everyone was gathered around the wall instead of at the table eating. They whispered to one another, giggling and making suggestive faces. “What are we giggling about?”

Sasha smirked, giddily grabbing my wrist to pull me towards the wall. “We are just admiring the new painting that has graced our humble restaurant!”

The crowd parted and my heart stopped dead in my chest. There, hanging on the wall in front of me was, well, me. My portrait. My nude portrait. I felt lightheaded, my vision blurring, and the voices of everyone joking and teasing were suddenly drowned out by a loud, shrill ringing. 

It wasn't the sight of my nude body that filled me with a sense of dread. Though I still hated the sight of it - of what it had originally represented - it was the large splatter of crimson that stained the canvas that truly made my heart sink. It was the vivid and violent contrast between the soft hues of acrylic and the hard flakes of dried blood.

My brush slid along the canvas, the bright hues of blue and yellow, and lavender contrasting against the neutral skin tones of my self-portrait. I'd struggled to look at it, the fleshy rendering of my mostly nude figure. Its imperfections made me feel even more inadequate than I already did, the reference photo being one of the first that Tony had taken of me. That was his art, dressing and posing me to look perfect - to look like the beautiful and obedient woman he always said I'd grow into.

Truthfully I hadn't even considered painting something for this upcoming gala, having known well in advance they only wanted nudes or mostly sos to display. That wasn't what I painted, nor was it something I was particularly interested in doing, but Tony had insisted. So, there it was in all its hideous, imperfect glory. The portrait of a self I didn't even feel was me, but rather the hollow husk everyone else wanted. Everyone but Rada.

She peered over her shoulder, watching me paint for a moment as she cleaned the penthouse living room. The look on her face told me that she hated it as much as I did. But, she said nothing about how cold and lifeless it felt or about how she thought it in poor taste to paint a fourteen-year-old nude. Rada just kept cleaning, offering me what reassurance she could, like she always did. And like always, just knowing she was here was enough.

The elevator dinged open and Jules held Tony up, guiding him to the nearest chair and helping him get settled. It was obvious that he'd just got back from one of his benders on the flight back from France so I tried to keep my eyes to myself. Tony was never predictable per se, but he was always constant. His violence was never random, nor was it ever out of the blue. But, that changed when he got high enough.

“I'll go get the doctor, just to be certain you haven't taken too much.”

He chuckled. “Ever loyal, my dear friend. Some in the house could learn from you.”

The jab was obviously meant for me, but I kept my eyes on my painting, hoping it would spare me his anger for at least tonight. Jules exited quickly and with him gone, everything fell apart. The first noise I heard was the sound of metal clinking against the marble countertop, and the next was the bone-chilling sound of the cylinder of his revolver spinning. 

My brush froze on the canvas, ears honing into the slow steps he took toward me before he hauled me up by the hair. “Let's play a game, baby girl.”

“I…” The words struggled to find their way from my throat as my eyes caught Rada's. “I have to finish my painting for the gala tomorrow.”

“It can wait,” he insisted, throwing me back into the counter and pinning me against it.

He spun the cylinder again, a crazed grin settling on his lips as he held it to his head and pulled the trigger twice. As always, he laughed when I flinched and then forced the gun into my hand. “I don't-” His finger forced my own down onto the trigger.

The game played out like it always did until Tony's smile faltered and a rage seemed to fill his eyes. “Do you love me?”

I'd spoken the words so many times before then, but for some reason, I froze. My brain screamed at me, begging me to say it - to tell him I loved him, but deep in my heart I knew the truth. I don't love you. This isn't love. The rage spilled from his eyes, overtaking his face as he struck me hard enough to make my head hit the counter. The blow was enough to force the words out, “I do! You know I love you!”

“Is that right?” He spat, carelessly tossing the gun onto the counter and holding my head down on it. I gripped at him, searching for skin to scratch or anything to get him off me. “You didn't seem so sure just a moment ago.”

“No! I'm sure! I… I was just confused!”

“Confused?” He laughed, a sound that sent chills up my spine and made my muscles all tense. “Stupid girl. Do you even understand?” He hauled me up, holding my face in one of his hands so hard I could feel my jaw crack. “You're alive because I want you. If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing!”

“I know!” My lips trembled as I blinked back tears. “I'm nothing without you, Tony. I know that. Please…”

I prepared myself for another bout of his laughter, or another blow maybe, but neither came. Instead, I heard the cock of Tony's gun and a surprised… Annoyed sound leave his throat. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Let go of her,” Rada demanded. From the corner of my blurred vision, I could just barely see her, standing at the end of the counter pointing Tony's gun at him with slightly trembling hands. “You let her go now, or I swear on all of God's holy saints I will kill you.”

He laughed then, that deep, boisterous one that sent terror through me. Turning his head Tony smiled at me. “Seems you're not the only one that's forgotten their place.”

Through the tight grip of his hands, I begged, pleaded with him, “Please…”

With one harsh shove, my head collided with the counter enough to make my ears ring and my vision spin. I could hear his footsteps and the quiet sound of the gun's trigger being pulled.

Click.

Fear, desperate and heavy, filled my lungs and stole my breath as I scrambled to find my bearings.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Bang.

My vision cleared just in time to watch Rada collapse half on top of my painting. Blood gushed from the side of her neck, spraying across the canvas and staining the carpet. A sharp breath finally filled my lungs, yet I still found them breathless. “NO!”

I scrambled forward, pressing my hands to her neck and desperately trying to apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. Her body shook beneath me, at least it felt that way… It could have been my own shaking. Through the sound of her gurgling breaths, I could hear Tony laughing. “L… Le…”

“Shh,” I urged. “Don't talk. Just hold on. Someone's gonna help.”

Rada smiled, tears filling her eyes as she struggled to lift a hand to lovingly brush my hair behind my ear. “My… Bea…utifil…” Blood splattered across my face as she coughed. “Da… Daugh…”

I could feel her skin grow cold as her chest stuttered and then stopped. “No! Mama please!” I sobbed, moving my hands to shake her shoulders. “Don't leave me here! Mama!”

“What's happened?” Jules’ voice cut through my screams as he burst into the room.

Tony, still laughing, waved him off. “One of the maids got a bit too bold. Don't worry, my friend, I took care of it.”

Rage filled me, rage and grief and a forever-festering desire to end it all. Chest heaving and lungs burning I stood and turned to the kitchen as Jules helped Tony back to his seat. I grabbed a knife from the counter and ran forward with a wail. Tony's eyes shined at the sight of me and the knife flying toward him as if this was what he wanted. Jules turned his head and with no hesitation, he threw himself between Tony and me.

Blood, hot and sticky, splashed my hands and face as my knife met flesh.

*

Jake glared at the message on his phone, a sense of regret and shame making him feel sick to his stomach. 

Won't be back for another day or two. - Simone

When Jake had finally worked up the courage to answer her calls on Thanksgiving morning she'd been livid. She screamed at him for being so selfish and childish and demanded he stop with his attitude and come with her. He'd held his ground, of course, but the sting of her anger always made him feel like a pathetic eight-year-old boy being scolded. Jake had said sorry. He'd texted her, checking in, he even tried to call, but she'd given him nothing in response until now.

He breathed out a frustrated breath and put his phone back in his pocket, shutting his locker and hurrying downstairs to distract himself from the weight of his feelings with food and his friends gossiping. That, however, was not what he walked into. The group gathered around one of the walls, laughing and asking questions when he approached. “The fucks everyone pissing themselves over?”

Ari shifted, revealing more of the large painting that now hung on the wall of the restaurant. Jake’s jaw dropped at the sight of a nude figure - a body he'd grown most familiar with in the past months. If he'd been unsure at all, the bold curves of her name labeling the corner of the piece erased it. Lena. 

The redhead in question stood, frozen staring up at it as Sasha talked and teased in her ear. A cold shiver crawled up his spine at the sight of her. This wasn't just some embarrassing nude portrait. This was something else. Something that made her spine stiffen and her skin lose its color. 

Jake shoved past everyone and moved between Lena and Sasha. The Russian cursed at him in the foreign language. “What the hell?”

“Fuck off Sasha!”

With a prideful scoff, he turned away, shooing the crowd. “Bossy bossy!”

“Lena,” Jake whispered, reaching out for her. His fingers barely grazed her arm before she recoiled, a quick reaction he would have missed if he'd not been paying attention. She turned and looked at him with glossy eyes and a dead expression that made his gut tighten and his heart drop. “Lena?”

With a sharp exhale and a staggering step, she was moving. She stepped around him, shoved through the crowd and across the lobby. Her body flung itself through the kitchen doors and Jake followed, not even sure if it was what she'd want. The second he entered behind her he found her hunched over the garbage, throwing up the breakfast they'd shared. The kitchen crew all made noises of disgust and Scott dropped his utensils to turn and look at the disruption. “What the hell, Red?”

Lena composed herself, wiping the spit from her mouth with a shaking hand. “S-sorry chef.”

“Are you good now?” Scott asked, his tone as harsh and uncaring as it always was, but his eyes narrowed in concern.

Isaac had dropped everything and rushed to the front of the line, held off only by her raising a hand to stop him as she shook her head. “I… Just…” She looked like she was about to puke again, but held it back. “I just need a minute.”

As she turned toward the stairs, not meeting his eyes, Jake felt his worry shift to anger. This had to be him. The Anthony that Dom had told him about. And in that moment, Jake understood Patrick's bitterness about how little he truly knew. He felt unprepared - unequipped to offer Lena any help, but even with that aching feeling, Jake followed her up the stairs. He'd be there, no matter what she needed from him, Jake would be there.

*

I knew I was moving, talking. I could feel each strained movement and hear each shaky reply. None of it registered. In my mind, I was still standing in front of that painting… Still in the penthouse living room watching my mom bleed out. I was stuck, or my mind was, reliving that moment over and over again while my body just kept moving on autopilot.

“What can we do when we feel stuck?” Dad asked.

“Keep moving.”

“Keep moving. Find something to ground you.”

“Keep moving,” I murmured to myself as I stumbled up the stairs. “Just keep moving.”

I could hear someone following me up, but I didn't stop or look back. I just had to keep going. One foot in front of the other. When I finally made it to the locker room bathroom I barely registered slamming the door shut and fumbling for the knobs of the faucet. It felt like my head was spinning with the noise and the heat and the nausea.

“Get out,” I told myself in the mirror trying to focus on my face and drown out the sound of Tony's laugh with the running water. “Get out.”

“Stupid girl. Do you even understand?”

I was going to throw up again. “Get out.”

“If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing.”

A pounding came from the door as it got harder and harder to breathe. “Get out.”

“I'm the only one that could ever love you.”

In the background, I heard the door open, but whoever was standing in it was distorted… Replaced by Tony's laughing face and his thin frame. It isn't real, I told myself, but my body was already gone. Desperate panic forced the shrill cry from my lips, “GET OUT!”

Whoever it was vanished, but the fear didn't go with them. Every inch of me shook as I scrambled to find a foothold in reality. I needed something, anything to keep me from passing out. “Find something to ground you.”

There was one thing that would keep me going. One thing I could use. I turned the cold water off and stuck my hands beneath the boiling water. The pain made everything else fade away, forcing my body to stay on its feet and pulling my mind to the present. My heart hammered in my chest and a pained cry echoed in my ears as I stared into my own reflection.

Tears stained my cheeks and my hair had tiny clumps of throw up in it. It wasn't pretty, but it was real. I was here. The door opened again and Isaac opened his mouth, obviously having prepared something to say. That something vanished as he watched the steam rise up from the sink and he realized what I was doing. He ran forward and turned the water off, switching it to cold as he looked at my red hands. “Shit!”

“I couldn't get out,” I whispered in a broken… Pathetic voice.

Isaac held me from behind, keeping my hands beneath the now-cold water as I began to shake again. The pain was gone and without it, everything else started to creep back in. “It's okay, Lena. It's okay.”

“I…” A breathless whine caught in my throat. “I can't get out.”

“You're out,” he answered. “You're here.”

“I… I…” My body lurched forward, bile spewing from my mouth as panic began to set back in.

Isaac squeezed my hands and stammered before he released me. “Okay… Fuck… Okay, I… I'm gonna call Peter.”

I shut my eyes, setting my head against the chilled sink. “Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout.”

Without even really thinking I shut the cold water off and reached for the hot water knob. Find something to ground yourself. A hand settled on top of mine as a new body settled in Isaac's place behind me, one I recognized instantly. “Stop.” 

Jake.

Standing upright I opened my eyes, I stared into his eyes through the mirror. “Can you tell me what you need?”

Clenching my jaw I shook my head as my chest stuttered with repressed sobs. “That's okay.” Jake gently pulled my arms back, crossing them over my chest and holding me tightly to his. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”

I nodded.

“Can you feel my breaths?”

I nodded again. 

“Breathe with me,” he whispered, pressing his head to mine as he quietly counted. I watched us through the mirror for a minute before I let my eyes shut. Jake's steady breaths fanned across my neck, his heart beat against my back and his warm embrace sank into my bones. It was like his whole body was speaking to mine… Telling it that there was no danger. I was safe. “That's it, just breathe, Princess. You're here. You're safe with me.”

I'm safe. I'm with Jake. Slowly my breaths began to even out and my brain felt less muddled. I'm with Jake. My body stopped shaking and eventually, all that was left was us. I'm safe.

Isaac's panicked voice echoed as he walked back towards the bathroom door. “I don't know what to do! She's… I don't even know how to explain it.”

Swallowing, I quietly asked, “Is he talking to my brother?”

“Yeah,” Jake answered. “He got worried.”

“Can you tell him I'm okay now? I…” I opened my eyes and met Jake's gaze. “I don't want Peter to come all the way down here. Please.”

“Okay.” He looked down at the sink.

“I'm good now,” I assured him. “I'm just gonna sit down for a minute.”

If it were anyone else they'd likely have fought me, but this was Jake. He knew I wasn't lying. His hold on me loosened and he carefully helped me sit on top of the toilet lid. “I'll be right back.”

While the muffled conversation carried on outside the door I just sat there, staring at my reddened hands with an empty sense of impending doom. He was here. In this restaurant. He'd hung that painting where every guest, everyone passing close enough by the windows, would be able to see it. Still, I knew it wasn't about publicly shaming me. If that were the case he would've chosen to frame one of the many photos he had of me. This was a personal message. A reminder.

“If you're going to play games, you'd best be prepared to do whatever it takes to win.” He reminded me often after that night, that Rada had played and lost. That Francois had played and lost. Everyone always lost. “They don't have the mind or the stomach to win this game of ours, baby girl. We're still the only ones even playing.”

Deep down I knew what this meant. I knew, yet I refused to think it - to breathe life into that horrifying and terrible thought. He didn't get to toy with me. He didn't get to scare me out of this life.

This life was mine. I had survived his horrors, I'd taken the blows and I'd made my choices. I had fought and bled and killed for this life. He didn't get to take that away, not now, not ever. He didn't get to win.

I wiped my eyes and forced everything back into that box deep inside me. Once my feet steadied I walked out into the locker room where Jake had taken the phone from Isaac and was trying to talk my brothers down. I held my hand out. “Let me talk to them.”

Jake watched me for a minute before he nodded, “She wants to talk to you. Here.”

“Thanks.” I held the phone to my ear, listening to Patrick in the background throwing things around in search of his shoes. “I'm fine. Just stay home and take care of the gym.”

“Fuck that!” Patrick yelled.

“Is he there?” Peter asked, his voice filled with the rage he rarely had.

Sparing a glance at Jake I answered, “No. He's not stupid enough to show up with Dom around.”

“Then what happened?”

Flashes filled my head again as I forced myself to answer. “It's just a painting, Pete.”

“Which painting?”

“One you don't have to worry about,” I bit in bitter frustration. “Just… Please don't come. Please.”

“Lena you-”

“I am fine.” I insisted coldly. “I… I just want to work, okay? Can you just let me do that?”

Peter was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Promise me you're safe?”

As if on their own, my eyes drifted to Jake again, meeting those sea-blue eyes. “I promise.”

He shouted at Patrick before speaking again. “Okay. Put Isaac back on.”

“Thank you.” I turned towards the door where Isaac stood biting his nails. “Here.”

I watched him move out of the locker room, talking to my brother for a second before I turned back to Jake. What do I say? I asked myself. He no doubt had a thousand questions, all of which would be tied up in the painting… Which was tied up in Rada and Tony and everything I didn't want him to know. So, when his mouth opened I stopped breathing. “What do you need?”

What? My brain went blank in seconds as I gaped at him. “W… Don't you have like a million questions?”

“Course I do,” he replied simply. “The most important of them being that one. So, what do you need?”

“Honestly? I… Kinda wanna just forget this ever happened.” I admitted looking down at my feet. “

“That's gonna be kinda hard with that thing hanging up out there.”

“Yeah, it is.”

He shrugged a shoulder and moved to pass me. “Gimme one minute.”

I followed him to the door. “What are you doing?”

“Just trust me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sasha!” He hollered, heading across the hall toward the front room. “Give me a hand real quick?”

Service started before Jake came back and so I jumped into work. I used it to distract myself from obsessing over the fact that hundreds of rich assholes were out there, no doubt looking at my painting - my body. That got harder to do when Will moved me to back waiting. The first follow of my night felt like I was walking right into a lion's den. And then it suddenly wasn't. 

I didn't know what they did, all I knew was when I walked out of the kitchen and into the sea of customers, the painting was nowhere in sight. I looked at Jake as he worked behind the bar, and all the answer he offered me was a smile.

After that, the night felt a little less heavy and before I knew it we were all gathering around the bar for after shift drinks. I gave Nicky a pat on the back and smiled. “Head home Nick, I'll get it all closed up.”

“You sure?” He asked, handing me his bar rag.

“Go on,” I urged.

Jake and I worked side by side, serving drinks to each of our friends as they all mingled and began to filter out the door. It felt good to be behind the bar with him again, but whenever I looked up all I could see was that painting on the wall. Fighting that foreboding feeling was tiring and not something I wanted to spend all night doing.

“So,” Jake started cautiously as he stacked a few glasses. “Today was a lot.”

I sighed and looked down at the bartop. “Yeah… Sorry about earlier. I wasn't trying to be… I dunno, pathetic.”

“You were hardly pathetic,” he assured me.

“Thanks,” I whispered, finally looking up at him.

“For what?”

“Grounding me.” Suddenly shy beneath his gaze I looked away. “I have a hard time coming out of episodes like that and you… You made it less shitty. A lot less shitty. So, thank you.”

His fingers combed through my hair as he brushed it behind my ear. “No problem, Princess.”

“Let's get drunk tonight.”

With a smirk, he asked, “You think that'll help?”

“Can't hurt to try.” I shrugged, repeating the words he'd told me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”

Jake's smirk grew wider, turning to pull my body into his. “Like this?”

I nodded, happily drinking in the warmth and the smell of him. “Yeah. Like that.”

“Come on then,” he answered, tugging me out from behind the bar and throwing his jacket around my shoulders. “Let's go.”

*

Jake watched Lena dance from the bar as he nursed his first and likely only drink for the night. She'd been drinking steadily since they arrived, though no one seemed to want to discourage her from it. Peter and Patrick had told Dom shortly after Lena had talked them out of coming and so he and the bikers were nowhere in sight. Whether that was something to worry about or not, he didn't know.

At first, he'd considered talking to the brothers about the whole situation, but Patrick had just given him a shake of his head and nodded to Lena. A reminder that everything - or almost everything - they did was on her terms. They'd discuss it when she was ready to. She'll never be ready to, he told himself.

Lena was strong and stubborn. In those first months, he'd thought she was fearless. The longer he spent with her - with everyone - the more he realized that no one was truly unafraid. Everyone feared something and that was okay… It was normal to be afraid. Fear often meant that you cared about something outside of yourself. But, Lena's fear was something entirely different. Her fear was intertwined with her anger and her sorrow. So much of her was packed into the threads she refused to acknowledge let alone pull on. 

So, she'd keep drinking and dancing and moving forward. She'd leave seeing that painting in the restaurant as buried as whatever memory it was tied to. And, though his stomach twisted into knots at the thought of leaving her panic attack in the bathroom unresolved, Jake would let her have this. He had to.

After an hour he excused himself outside, not bothering to take the alley to the couch while the bikers had vacated their spot out front of the bar. He grabbed his jacket from Lena's seat and fished out his cigarettes and his lighter, moving to pull one out when he looked up and saw Quinn. She was boxed up against the wall outside by an older, angry-looking man - her father if he had to guess. From the door, Jake could see the tears building in her eyes as he screamed at her and grabbed her arms to shake her. His jaw clenched and his feet carried him toward her. “Hey!”

“Jake-” she tried to interrupt.

He ignored her, shoving the man's filthy hands off Quinn and occupying the spot in front of her. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Her dad laughed. “You’re a real tough guy, huh? Do you know who the fuck I am?”

“Don't care.” Jake shoved him again when he tried to get up in his face. 

“You're gonna regret this,” he said, spitting at Jake's feet as he glared at Quinn and slunk back into the night mumbling and grumbling curses and threats under his breath.

He waited until the man had vanished around the corner to turn to Quinn. She was closed off, almost angry as she huffed, “You didn't have to do that.”

“I know,” Jake answered, lighting his cigarette. He took a drag before wordlessly offering it to her. Quinn accepted and smoked in silence alongside him. “So, that's your dad?”

“Yep.”

“Seems like a real charmer.”

She sighed. “Yeah.”

Jake recognized the look in her eyes, that painful anger. “I never knew my dad, but he probably wasn't too different from your old man.”

“It sucks, right?” she asked, looking up at him. “Being so… Unimportant to someone that's supposed to love you.”

“Yeah, it does,” he earnestly replied. “But, we've got other people, you know… Better people.”

“I know,” she whispered. “That's different though.”

With a solemn nod, he agreed, “I know it is.”

“Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “For the smoke.”

“No problem. And, if he shows up again or bothers you or whatever, just call me and I'll come take care of it.”

“You don't have to worry about me,” Quinn insisted with a sad look.

It was a simple, sad sentence, one Jake had used countless times before. He knew the ugly truth that hid behind the words. I don't want to be weak. Weak. It was laughable to think anyone found Quinn weak. In all the time he'd known her, she was nothing short of sassy, strong, and confident. Yet, here, on the side of the street, Quinn looked small.

She must've felt small too, the way she kept glancing at him with that fearful hint of shame. Jake felt a few things swirl around in his chest. Anger that her shitty dad made her feel like this small and unimportant. Sad that her shitty dad made her feel unloved. But the strongest among them was a new, blinding need to protect her. Jake wanted to make sure Quinn never felt that way ever again and it was frightening for a moment. However scared he was of this new responsible feeling, he quickly decided that he didn't care.

He didn't care how scared he was, he knew Quinn and he knew that she deserved the same kind of family that she'd given him with her persistence and her meddling. “Yeah, but what kinda big brother would I be if I didn't.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him and breathed out a soft laugh. “I…I've never had a big brother before.”

“I've never been one before,” he replied, looking anywhere but her face. “Guess it'll be something new for both of us.”

Quinn nodded, and without another word, she stepped forward and hugged him. “Well, just for the record, I can't think of a better idiot to be my big brother.”

He held her close, letting the words fill him with pride. “I have my smart moments.”

They held each other for a moment longer, both holding onto that feeling of family that neither of them had known - at least not like this. Then Quinn pulled away, wiping her eyes. “We should get back inside.”

“Yeah, we should.” He replied, following her with a steady arm around her shoulder.

*

I downed the shot in one quick motion, shaking off the burning tingling feeling that engulfed my face after. It felt nice to forget. The tingling was all I could really focus on… Well, the only other thing I could focus on.

Jake had been cool and collected all day. He'd handled the painting, the panic attack, and everything else seemingly with ease. While I made quick work of every drink Ian made, he slowly drank his beer and watched me with amusement. It reminded me of the last time I'd gotten wasted, what little of it I could remember.

Want. No matter how much I drank or how much I kept putting the big shit off, the want never lessened. As I watched Jake with that stoic face of his, all I could think about were those heated moments between us. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to do all of them again. So, with a wide, drunken grin I took hold of his hand and started pulling him through the crowd. “Come on!”

He chuckled but let me drag him to the back hall next to the bathrooms. “You gonna hurl?”

“No,” I giggled, stumbling into his chest. “I wanna kiss you!”

“Yeah? And we had to come over here to do that?”

“I'm not gonna make out with you in front of my dad!” I replied in a giddy, hushed whisper. “Do you wanna kiss or not?”

Jake stepped forward, backing me into the wall, his hands landing on my hips as I stared up at him in awe. “I always wanna kiss you, princess.”

With a satisfied hum, I gripped his shirt and pulled him towards me. “Good.”

In the dimly lit hallway surrounded by noise and bodies somehow in my mind, it was just the two of us. Jake's lips moved in time with my own, our hands grabbing at one another with a furious need to somehow be closer. The slight buzz of the alcohol made my head feel light and erased all of the lingering unknowns from my mind entirely. It was that mix that made me feel bold enough to touch Jake exactly how I wanted to.

I palmed him through his jeans, swallowing every moan until he pulled away from my lips with a groan. He squeezed my hips, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Fuck.”

Smiling, I leaned forward and kissed his neck. “You're so pretty.”

“If you were sober I…” He groaned again as my teeth scraped his Adam's apple.

“You'd what?”

Jake looked down at me and shook his head, hands leaving my hips to take hold of my face. “I'd do a lot of things.”

“Sounds fun. Would I like it?”

“Definitely,” he whispered.

I smirked. “How do you know?”

Bumping our noses together Jake shrugged, “I have it on good authority I excel at the art of pleasure.”

“Hmm,” I hummed playfully, “I think you're just overconfident.”

“I'll just have to give you a private demonstration.” He sighed against my lips, amused and frustrated all at once. “When you're sober.”

“When I’m sober,” I repeated, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Raincheck?”

He chuckled. “Raincheck.”

“We can still make out though, right?”

“Absolutely,” he answered, pressing me back into the wall and wasting no time reconnecting our lips.

It wasn't until Patrick rounded the corner and quickly covered his eyes with a disgruntled groan. “God, can a man use the toilet without havin' to see his sister doing… that?”

With haste, Jake and I fixed our clothes and bashfully leaned against the wall. “Sorry, Pat.”

He walked past us, shaking his head. “I don't wanna see none of that when I walk back out. Get a room or something.”

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and too many shots, but it was good. As we played our shitty drinking games and teased one another I was blissfully content. All thoughts of the restaurant, the painting, Rada, Tony… It was pushed so far into the back of my mind that it was nothing more than a blurry memory.

As Jake walked Quinn and me to my apartment I noticed how relaxed she seemed. Even in my slightly drunk state, I recognized how the tension seemed to have lifted from her shoulders as she walked beside Jake with a smile. She felt safe with him and it made my chest feel warm and fuzzy. When we reached my door, she turned and hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he replied, awkwardly patting her head. “I mean it.”

“I know.”

Giving them both a fond look I pressed one last kiss to Jake's lips. “Goodnight, tough guy. Try not to get beat up on your way home.”

He chuckled. “I'll do my best.”

“Tell our cat goodnight from me!”

“Goodnight, Lena,” he hollered as he walked down the sidewalk.

Inside Quinn and I flopped onto my bed, both tossing and turning, fighting over the blanket to try and get comfortable. “Hey,” I whispered as we both finally settled. “What happened tonight?”

She snuggled into the pillow and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Lee.”

“Quinn-”

“Seriously,” she replied quickly, a smile tugging at her lips. “My big brother took care of it.”

Even in my inebriated state, I didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. The answer was clear. I smiled and closed my eyes. “Jake’s good at that.”

“Yeah, he is.”

*

Jake stood in front of the bar, watching the workers closely as they situated the lights. Mr. Hiragana and I walked through the space of the new restaurant, now finally cleared of garbage and wreckage. It looked bigger than it had, but that might've just been how the fixed walls and proper lighting made it feel. “So,” the man beside me began, “I assume you and your colleagues have discussed the design of the space?”

“We have,” I answered, again glancing at Jake. “Scott doesn't care either way, so long as the kitchen is big enough with new appliances. Jake wanted full control of the bar.” With a smile, I handed him the simple sketches I’d done. “And you know me, I'm the one with the vision.”

“Of course,” he agreed, eyes carefully looking over the pages with a smile. “Your visions never cease to amaze me, little fish.”

Nudging him with my elbow I smiled. “So, you think it's doable?”

“It is fairly simple.” Handing the papers to the lead on the project they exchanged a few words before he patted my hand and looked around the room. “This will be the pride of the city when all is said and done.”

“That's ambitious,” I said with a laugh. “The big apples got a lot of gems.”

Nodding Mr. Hiragana said again, “And this will be one of them.”

With a tilt of my head and a soft smile, I squeezed his hand. “Were you always this optimistic?”

“Only after I met you,” he replied, squeezing my hand back. 

“Was I ever this optimistic?” A sad feeling took root in my chest as I looked around at the clean slate. “It feels like so long ago that I had something like this… A dream.”

Mr. Hiragana nodded, his thoughtful eyes never leaving my face as he answered, “You have been through much these years we have been apart. You have changed… Grown not only in body but in mind. The little fish I met at that hotel so many years ago is not the same one that stands before me now. You have known sorrow, fear, loss.” With a proud gleam in his eyes, he nodded more assuredly. “And in spite of it all, you have survived. It is normal to lose one's optimism after such a trying journey. But, one day you will find it again.”

“You've grown wiser in our time apart,” I deduced.

With a deep laugh, he shook his head. “In some ways, I suppose. All that live to be my age have some wisdom to depart onto younger ears.” With a glance at Jake, he smirked. “Though, some of that wisdom is repeated words said by a much wiser voice than mine.”

“How do you mean?”

“Slowly, then all at once.” His words made everything still as Rada's bright smile and tender kiss on my head warmed me. Mr. Hiragana smiled again. “This is what she always said when encouraging you to follow your heart, yes?”

My eyes drifted towards the bar where Jake paced behind the wooden bartop. His eyes darted back and forth, memorizing the space he'd claimed as his and visualizing whatever it was his mind had thought up for it. For a split second, it was like I too could see that bright image he had in his head. A bar with soft lights and glittering bottles, pictures of everyone that mattered littering the wall behind it. A place that felt lavish and expensive without being so snooty and uptight. A place to feel at home. 

Then that all vanished as his head turned and those blue eyes pierced mine. The vision faded from his mind, replaced by another… Less focused one. That wicked gleam shined like the sun over water as his tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyes lazily moved down the length of me. Sinful. That was the only word I knew that properly described him as I broke eye contact with him and cleared my throat.

“Thank you.” I looked back up at him, ignoring the knowing look he gave me in return, and bowed my head. “For helping me find my way.”

He bowed his head in return. “You have always known your way, Little Fish. I have simply reminded you of it.”

I glanced at the time and bowed again. “We should be going.”

“I look forward to our next meeting.” He squeezed my hand one last time. “They would be proud of you.”

After leaving the crew behind to work on the building Jake and I headed to work. We made small talk about the progress of the restaurant, a subject Jake was still clearly uncomfortable with. “Mr. Hiragana says we'll probably be able to open before next years up.”

Jake stiffly nodded, eyes still staring straight ahead. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” I answered, watching him carefully. “So, how are you feeling about the whole thing?”

“Fine.”

I reached out and stopped him mid-step, my hand carefully laying on his arm and encouraging him to look at me. “Jake.”

He shook his head and sighed, “I feel fine. Excited… But… It's… It's just a lot and it's complicated.”

“Anything I can do to help?” I asked with a tender tilt of my head.

“No, I don't think so.”

I shrugged. “Well, I give you full permission to be an asshole about restaurant shit while you figure it out. That help?”

Jake chuckled, visibly pleased with the idea of an asshole pass. “Maybe a little.”

“Good,” I beamed back as the heavy cloud of tension dissipated and the rest of our walk felt normal again. It wasn't until we entered 22West that the weight of everything came crashing down over me all over again.

A new painting hung on the wall, not one nearly as painful to look at, but another all the same. The light blues of the waves gradually faded into black as the painting shifted focus from the boat - my mother's boat - to the nothingness that lurked beneath the water. My heart dropped into my stomach, twisting and tightening until it was nothing more than a ball of iron filling my stomach with dread.

*

The clinking of silverware felt louder that family meal than any other, at least it did to Jake. He sat next to Lena, whose eyes hadn't left the painting since they'd arrived. It was a simple image of a boat and the ocean depths, but he knew what it really meant to her… Some of it anyway. As his eyes passed between the painting and Lena's emotionless face, Jake wanted nothing more than to ask the question that hung on the tip of his tongue.

Why does this make you feel so afraid? 

His best and only guess was that it had something to do with Anthony… Something to do with the three years that Lena tried her damnedest to never focus on. But, in that curious, protective way of his, Jake wanted to know more. He wanted to understand the situation fully so he could at least make an attempt to lessen the impact of it.

They had been the only two that hadn't already gotten dressed in those hideous shirts, having been late to oversee things at the new restaurant space, and as they changed in the quiet of an empty locker room Jake felt relieved no one else was here. The apprehensive, almost avoidant air around Lena never once lifted as he turned to look at her. “You okay?”

She didn't even glance at him when she answered, “It's just… A lot…”

He found it ironic that her words – her feelings mirrored his so perfectly. Any other time it would have made him chuckle, but right now all he wanted was to make her feel better. The panic in her voice as she screamed at him to get out the other day had made him feel physically sick. Seeing her using pain to somehow try to ignore the memories made him feel even worse. Jake wanted - needed - to help her.

“So take it out on me,” Jake suggested, her words from their walk circling around in his head as he closed his locker.

“What?”

“All that shit you're holding onto, take some of it out on me.”

“I'm not gonna do that.”

“Why not?” He asked with a hopeful smirk. “Like me too much?”

“Less and less each minute,” she weakly joked.

“Let's play a game,” he offered. “We go back in time tonight to before we became friends. I'll be my charming self and you can be a bitch.”

“Jake…”

Pushing himself off his locker he chuckled. “Oh come on, princess. Have some fun. Play a game with me.”

Shaking her head Lena finally nodded. “Alright, fine, I'll play.”

Jake smirked down at her. “See ya downstairs, Lana.”

“See ya, jerk.”

Tonight was gonna be fun.

*

“Behind,” Jake deadpanned for the third time tonight, the mischievous glow in his eyes the only thing giving away his true emotions. “Watch where you're standing, Lana.”

He’d been purposefully waiting until I’d stepped up behind him to turn directly into me and pretend to be annoyed. Part of his “game”. I'd been skeptical of his plan and it’d taken me a minute to adjust to the amped-up brand of his usual asshole behaviors, but once I did I actually found the whole thing… Fun… “Watch where you're walking, jerk.”

Jake slid out of the kitchen with nothing more than a smile. Everyone around us looked confused, but shocking none of them said a word. Isaac and Scott gave me the occasional questioning look, likely expecting me to explain it later. I didn't care about any of that though. I didn't care about the new painting or the past it dug up. I didn't care about Tony's obvious involvement. All I cared about was thinking up a new snarky comment to hit Jake with the next time I saw him.

I continued to switch between line and dish before moving to help restock the bar. Jake saw me the second I left the kitchen with the two bottles in my hand and slid to stand in the middle of the bar space, shaking his cocktail. “Sorry, I need the room.”

“Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear me as I pressed my chest up against his back to slide past him. “Good thing for you I don't mind getting up close and personal.”

“Lucky me,” he replied, pursing his lips as he watched me bend over to grab the now-empty rack for the glasses. 

He slid the drink to the guest who had ordered it and quickly turned, putting his body directly behind mine so I'd run into him when I stood up. I played into his hand and with an exaggerated eye roll I mimicked his words, “Behind.”

“Sorry,” he taunted. “I was just admiring the view.”

“I'm just surprised you have the time to admire anyone else's ass when you're so obviously in love with your own.”

Chuckling he let me pass. “I assure you, an ass like yours puts mine to shame, princess.”

“How flattering,” I deadpanned. “Save some of that charm for the people dumb enough to pay you, pretty boy.”

The night dragged on, but I hardly noticed how long it really was. Once the guests had vacated the dining room everyone drank themselves into a better mood. Nicky left early, leaving Jake and me to close the bar down. Next to me, Jake finished counting his tips with a click of his tongue, “Only four hundred tonight.”

“Well,” I sarcastically remarked, putting a bottle back in place. “Looks like tonight's gonna be a big fat bust. If only there was a way you could salvage your wounded ego.”

“Wanna know what I think?” He asked, ignoring my taunt as he side-eyed me. He poured Heather's drink into a to-go cup with a thoughtful grin.

“Desperately,” I answered in that slightly mocking tone he was known for.

Jake slid the cup to her and watched the group start to leave. “I think I should snag us some food from the kitchen while you grab a bottle from the wine cellar,” he turned and looked me up and down, reminiscent of how he had in the beginning. “Then we meet at my place in a half hour.”

The look in his eyes told me exactly what his words didn't, but I still wanted to hear him say it. With a coy smile and a tiny step too close, I asked in a light, teasing tone, “Like a date?”

“If that's what you wanna call it,” he replied just as teasing, but both of us could pick out the genuine nature in each other's words.

My heart did a flip inside. For the first time since the painting had arrived 22West felt like it should. It felt like just another space, one I didn't feel paranoid or anxious in. Jake was there, standing in front of me, inviting me to spend the night with him… Inviting me to forget about anything and everything else. Mr. Hiragana’s words - Rada’s words - echoed in my mind. “Slowly, then all at once.”

“It’s a date then,” I answered, a sudden hopefulness, or maybe blind courage, refusing to let old fears rob me of this - of anything else with Jake.

That cocky grin of his made me roll my eyes as he kept up the persona of that asshole-ish self we’d be toying around with all through service. “See you there, Princess.”

“Don’t get too cocky, pretty boy, or I’ll stand you up.”

Jake chuckled and shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

God this shouldn’t be so fun. “Won’t I?”

He bent his head down, crowding my space and letting his eyes shamelessly roam down to my cleavage. “You want this too bad to stand me up.”

I replied through the feeling of heat rising up my neck. “You seem confident about that.”

“I am confident,” he answered, tugging his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “That’s the point of this game, isn’t it? We pretend to be the assholes we were to each other when we first met so we can finally just say what we really mean?”

Though I hadn’t seen the game that way before, it clicked the second Jake had said it. Everything that had happened the past few days… Thanksgiving, the bar, tonight, one thing after another after another after another all getting in the way of what I, we, wanted and dreaded more than anything. The conversation. The admittance. The game had given me - given us both - the courage to just come out with it, to commit once and for all to an action. A date. “You’re right.”

Jake smirked even wider, cocky and dickish as he leaned in closer, tilting his head ever so slightly in that smart-ass kind of way. “Am I?”

“Don’t ruin it.” I carefully pushed against his chest and took a step back. “Now, excuse me. I have an expensive bottle to steal.”

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, just low enough that I couldn’t be totally sure he’d even said it. He watched me turn and walk away, the burning feeling of his eyes on me only making my heart beat faster in my chest.

Down in the chilled wine cellar, I stood, staring at the shelves, as my mind caught up with my body. A date. Holy shit. This is a date. I glanced down at my plain attire and shook my head. “Nope.” Digging my phone out of my pocket I moved forward, scanning the bottles on the shelves as the line rang.

“Hello?” Quinn sang into the phone.

“Where are you?”

“Wow, not even a hi, how’s it going?”

“Quinn, no time!” I replied, hurriedly. “I need an outfit.”

She made a curious noise over the phone. “What for?”

“I…” A stupid gin made my cheeks burn as I answered, “I have a date.”

“Are you two finally calling your one on one time, a date?” Quinn inquired with a light teasing tone. “How bold of you.”

“Shut up, do you have something I can wear or not?”

With a sigh, I could hear her as she started flipping through her rack of clothes. “If you want my professional opinion, showing up in nothing at all would be your best option.”

Rolling my eyes I finally found the bottle I'd been searching for. “Quinn…”

“Fiiinnee, I've got a few options. See you in ten?”

“Sounds good, thank you!”

“Det-”

“Details as payment, I know Q.”

Bottle in hand I hurried up the stairs, saying goodnight to the dish crew as they finished changing and headed out into the chilled air. My steps felt both lighter and heavier as I walked beneath the neon lights and moved around the slow crowds. I tried not to focus on what this meant… On the obvious expectation that both Jake and I had at this point, but that was practically impossible.

We'd already done everything else, a fact everyone was keen on reminding us. We'd kissed and touched and whispered heated words. Jake and I were far past any normal friendship. We had been for a while. Yet, there we were using games to commit to an actual date. There we were coming up with some kind of excuse to meet at his apartment where things were bound to go a very specific way.

Are we even going to get to open this bottle? I wondered, nails picking at the fancy label. Or is he going to just kiss me the second I walk in? The vivid and tantalizing image of him pulling me into his apartment and pressing me into his front door filled my brain. Am I going to be able to not kiss him first? Another valid question.

Quinn's apartment wasn't far from Ozzy's or the club. She lived a few blocks up the way in a modest one-bedroom place she'd busted her ass to afford back in the day. The old, sun-faded brick shifted to peeling wallpaper as I made my way inside and up the creaking staircase to the third floor. The second door down the hallway, the only door not decorated with scuff marks from people's shoes. 

Ari was waiting to open the door with a wide smirk. “TIGER!” She purred, pulling me inside the dimly lit warm space and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I heard you have a daaaaattteeee.”

Quinn's apartment was always in some state of chaos. Shoes were tossed around, blankets hung off of every soft surface and her makeup and hair supplies were scattered around her place like hidden gems. She liked it this way, liked the way it made things feel crowded and lived in. Having grown up with nothing Quinn collected things and held them close like a slutty magpie.

The warm lights from her lamps lit up the living space, where it appeared I'd interrupted a dinner date. Quinn emerged from her bedroom to the left and helped peel Ari off me with a loving look and teasing in her eyes. “It's not a big deal remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Ari giggled. “Just two friends hanging out late into the night.”

“You two are the worst,” I grumbled, setting the bottle down on Quinn's counter. “So, any good choices?”

With an offended look, Quinn waved me into her bedroom. “As if you need to ask.”

Ari looked at the bottle with wide eyes and a huge grin. “Thief!” She gasped. “I love you!”

“Don't open it,” I called out to her. “If there's any left tomorrow I'll bring it up to you guys.”

Quinn's eyes widened and she practically vibrated as she hopped onto her bed among the outfits she'd pulled from her closet. “Is this gonna be an overnight date?”

“Maybe,” I answered, trying not to let my excitement or my terror change my voice.

“Oh my god, are you gonna let him take your V card?”

I nudged her leg, almost sending her off the bed. “My V card's been gone for a while Q.”

She shook her head. “It's been over a year since that cards gotten punched in. It counts.”

“Outfits,” I sighed, changing the subject.

“Well now that I know it's a slumber party,” she rummaged through her pile of clothes and pulled out a little black dress. “This is what you're wearing.”

“I don't get to try anything else on?”

“Nope!”

With a groan, I grabbed the dress from out of her hands and stomped out of her room towards the bathroom. “Why did I even ask for your help?”

“Because I'm the best!” Was her loudly overjoyed reply.

Once I'd closed myself into the small bathroom with old checkered floor tiling and the tiny pink sink I looked at the dress she'd chosen. It wasn't ugly or too gaudy. It was simple, black silk with a modest hem of lace around the top and bottom. The spaghetti straps were thin, but I was just thankful there were straps at all… Or a dress at all for that matter.

I took my time sliding it on, stuffing my bra and other clothes under the sink until I could come back and get them. In Quinn's mirror, I fluffed my hair and fixed my makeup, trying to focus on the excited feeling in my chest instead of the anxious ball in my stomach. This isn't a big deal. It's just Jake. 

Just Jake… As if that had ever been true.

Unveiling the dress to Quinn and Ari resulted in the two catcalling me for five minutes. “God damn!”

“It's about time you let those girls out to play again!” Ari laughed, looking at my boobs. “No bra too? Jakey's a lucky boy tonight!”

“I'm leaving my clothes under your sink,” I told Quinn as I gathered my things and grabbed the bottle off the counter. “Thanks for the dress!”

“No problem! Have fun being a slut tonight!”

Flipping her off I left the apartment, trying to calm my nerves with each step forward. It wasn't a big deal. It was just Jake. This was just a date.

*

Jake had spent a solid ten minutes meticulously opening and cleaning each of the oysters he'd grabbed from the kitchen. He'd found a niceish plate to put them on and shooed his cat off the counter. Then he'd started truly freaking out.

Lena was on her way with whatever bottle she'd grabbed. They'd drink, eat, and then the inevitable would happen. They’d share a look. He'd touch her or she'd touch him and from there they'd be unable to stop themselves from checking off their list of rainchecks all in one go.

He turned on a movie, the first movie his hands could find, and he cleaned. It wasn't really an effective way to keep his mind off the possibilities that were at this point all but certainties, but he still did it. Maybe it was, to keep his hands busy or maybe he just felt self-conscious about Lena returning to his space.

By the time she knocked on his door, everything was clean and ready. Everything except for him. Do we continue our game? He asked himself, hand hovering over the doorknob. Would that make things easier or would that just make me seem like an asshole?

Opening the door he came face to face with her fluffy red hair and tempting lips and… Fucking hell. The little black dress she wore hugged her body in all the right places, showing off her lean shoulders and peaked nipples. He hadn't expected her to change. Lena smiled, that nervous smile that made the corners of her lips twitch and held up the bottle. “I hope you like champagne.”

Say something. Anything. And say something he did. “You're late.”

Asshole it is I guess.

Thankfully Lena just rolled her eyes and leaned against his doorframe. “Aw, did I keep you waiting?”

“A little,” he said, clearing his throat as he moved to let her in. “It’s been a damn chore keeping this cat off the oysters.”

As if Jake had bribed him to, Hemingway made a not-so-sneaky break for the plate on the counter. Jake jumped, intercepting him just in time. The cat hissed and angrily swatted Jake's arms as he carried him to the sofa. From his kitchen, Lena laughed. “I'm sorry. If I'd have known you were in a heated standoff with the cat I would have hurried.”

He shrugged his shoulders, casually making his way back to the kitchen. “So, champagne?”

“One of the more expensive bottles of it,” she promised, handing the bottle to him for inspection. 

Jake barely looked at it, focusing more on her. She looked nervous, but the good kind. The kind that told him she was comfortable being here on this date with him. That was all he could ask for - all he wanted. He'd only take the night as far as she was comfortable with, but judging by the look in her eyes Jake was confident she wanted things to go the same way he did.

So, he grabbed a pair of his shitty glasses from the cupboard and started to open the bottle. She arched her brow. “Not even gonna look at it?”

“I trust your taste in drinks.”

“Even after I gave you nothing but shitty ones that one night?”

Jake chuckled, popping the cork and nodding at her. “Even after that.” He poured her a glass and slid the plate of oysters between them. “So, how’s Quinn?”

Lena blushed, glancing down at her dress. “Was it that obvious?”

“Mhm,” he replied. “I've seen Quinn dress you up enough times to recognize her work.”

“Well, what do you think?” She asked, taking a step back and raising her arms to give him a full view of her.

What did he think? As if she didn't already know every single thought ran through his head. Jake could have voiced any of the lewd things - god knew he'd done that thousands of times before - but instead he found himself answering more sincerely, “I think you look perfect.”

*

My question had been simple, given how well I knew Jake and how his dirty mind worked. It was simple. Ask an obvious question about the very sultry dress Quinn had given me and received an equally obvious dirty response. Simple. Casual. And not at all what Jake said.

“I think you look perfect.”

Perfect. That wasn't a word I was used to hearing, especially when it came to me. Yet this would mark - at least - the second time Jake had used it. Butterflies filled my stomach, filling me with that fuzzy feeling of warm tingles. If it had been anyone else using that word I would have known exactly how to respond. Bullshit. But, I knew he meant it. The look in his eyes, the hint of a real smile, the way he looked just as surprised as I did.

Jake thought I looked perfect.

“So, how do you like your new TV?” I asked turning my now blushing face away from him to look at the bright screen where Egon and the rest of the Ghostbusters were quietly playing out their scenes. My face burned even hotter as I remembered Halloween… Remembered how good Jake had looked dressed as Egon. Maybe he still has that costume?  “Ghostbusters?”

“It's a good movie,” he defended, but the wicked gleam in his eye told me he was thinking the same as me.

Smirking, I shrugged. “Woulda thought you'd turn on Romeo and Juliet.”

With a smirk, Jake nodded, “Also a good movie.”

I used the heated tension humming between us as an opportunity to take the first oyster. The salty taste washed over my tongue as I examined the slightly shiny shell in my hand. “So, what's your plan, pretty boy?”

“Am I supposed to have a plan?” He asked with a chuckle.

“I mean I'd think so, after your very confident invitation at work.”

Jake shrugged, taking a moment to enjoy an oyster. “Honestly, I just wanted to be around you.”

“You couldn't be around me at Ozzy's?”

“Okay… I wanted to be around you alone. That better?”

I hummed, beaming at his admission. “Yep.”

He rolled his eyes, casually pushing the plate out of Hemingway's reach. “Don't sound so smug, princess. You were dying to come be alone with me.”

“Hardly!” I argued - lied.

Jake stepped around the counter, placing his body flush up against my own and giving me that look. “Hardly? So you don't want me to do this?”

His fingers skimmed up my exposed thigh, dragging the lace hem of the dress up. I gulped, my eyes shifting to his lips without a second thought. “I want you to do whatever you wanna do.”

“Oh, come on, princess. You can do better than that.”

Fuck it. “I… want you… To kiss me.”

He lifted his hand, fingers grazing the side of my neck as he carefully tilted my head up even more. Our lips brushed against each other, a sigh of anticipation hot on our mingled breaths, and then… Darkness.

The lights cut out, casting Jake and me in complete darkness. Outside horns honked and the chaos told us both that the block - hell maybe even the city, had just shared our experience. Jake’s hands drifted to my shoulders, holding onto me for a moment as he adjusted to the dark. “Of fucking course.”

I swallowed my disappointment and forced a chuckle out of my dry throat. “Don’t suppose you've got any candles on hand?”

“I think I have a few,” he answered. “Let me get a lighter or something.”

Jake stumbled around in the dark until he reached his jacket, pulling the cigarettes and lighter out. The flame did little to light the room, but after a minute of searching his bare cupboards, he found what little he had in candles. I could see the tension in his shoulders almost as clearly as the sour purse of his lips. “Hopefully it's not the whole city.”

“Yeah.” He answered through clenched teeth as handed me the lighter. “I'm gonna go see if anyone outside knows what's going on.”

“Okay,” I replied, watching him go. “I'll light these I guess.”

I stared into the flame as I held the lighter to the wick of the candle and let out a defeated sigh. It's always something. Betting lesbians, a money-hungry Russian, the past, the future… Maybe it was a sign. Maybe the universe in its infinite wisdom was trying to tell us we weren't good together.

The wax dripped over the edge of the candle as I held the light to it. “Bullshit.”

Fuck the universe, I decided. Fuck the past or the future. Fuck everything that tries to tell me what I want.

I wanted Jake. Physically, romantically, in any and every way that he would have me. I wanted him. And tonight was going to be the night whether the city or the universe liked it or not.

I carefully lit the remaining candles, illuminating his apartment just enough to see the outline of his furniture. As I set the last down on the counter I leaned over to give Hemingway a reassuring pat, all the while trying to hold onto the newfound courage making my stomach twist into knots. “It's alright.”

The cat seemed to release some of his tension, using my distracted state to snag an oyster and take shelter in the bathroom where he decided to hide in Jake's open laundry bin. As I quietly chuckled at the way the tips of his ears poked out of the top, and the ferocious noises he made dining on his stolen meal, the apartment door opened and slammed shut as Jake returned. With a silent curse, he threw his jacket and shoes off to the side. “Well, nobody knows shit, but everyone's expecting the power to be out for the rest of the night at least.”

“Damn,” I remarked, trying not to talk myself out of taking action. “Right when your plan was just starting to work.”

It was a flirtatious little taunt, wholeheartedly meant to shift Jake’s focus from the unexpected interruption and back to the fact that we'd been on the verge of a kiss when the lights went out. Sadly, that didn't happen. Instead, Jake continued to grumble, scouring his shelf for a pack of cigarettes and then his lighter, which I still held. “Damn, where the fuck did it go?”

I watched him search for a minute before holding up the object he sought with a smug smirk. “Looking for this?”

He turned to look at me, face set in a grumpy scowl as he lifted the candle off the coffee table and held the flame to the end of his cigarette, lighting it. “Nope.”

“Suit yourself,” I replied, bothered as I set the lighter down on the counter. “Now what?”

Flopping down on his couch Jake laughed humorlessly. “I don't have any board games we can play if that's what you're hoping for.”

“I’m sure we can think of something more interesting to do than play a board game.” Hint. Hint.

Jake rolled his eyes gesturing to the darkened apartment. “You're welcome to look around for something to do.”

DO ME! I wanted to shout at him. My eyes scanned the shelves, looking for something that could lighten Jake's pissy mood and somehow salvage the night. “Where's your camera?” I asked. “We could take some more pictures.”

“In case you didn't notice, we don't exactly have the best lighting for that,” he snarkily replied.

“So you wanna just sit in the dark and do nothing?”

“I'm doing something,” he answered, lifting up his cigarette.

“Well, maybe I wanna do more than sit and smoke.” Jake ignored my statement, staring at the wall in front of him with a bitter, disappointed look on his face. “Really? You gonna ignore me now?”

He glanced at me and shrugged. “You're more than welcome to find something to do.”

Idiot. After a moment of watching the angry puffs of smoke exhale from his lungs I pushed myself away from the counter and flopped down on the couch beside him with a frustrated sigh. Jake's eyes lowered to watch my boobs bounce with the movement. Of course, that'd be what cheers him up. “You know most people would be more concerned with entertaining their guests.”

It was like a light finally flicked on in his brain and with a suggestive raise of his brows and a not at all subtle smirk, Jake and I were back on the same page. Only now I felt like making him work for it.

"Oh, you want some attention?" He took another long drag of the cigarette, slowly sliding closer to me, closing the space between us. He was right there, just a head tilt away from my lips. He timed his head down, seeking me out, expecting me to make it easy.

“You're insufferable." I leaned back, crossing my arms - pressing my breasts up to really catch his attention. He breathed smoke out across my face with a light laugh and a smirk. 

"You like it," he whispered, our noses bumping one another.

"This isn't something friends usually do," I said quietly, smugly. Resuming the game we had earlier, the game meant to make this easier, and now the game that I'd use to torture him.

Jake was more smug as he grinned back at me, his eyes dark with lust and sin that would put even the devil to shame. "Yeah, well, I don't want to be your fucking friend." For a split second that something real flashed in his eyes, a fleeting feeling or thought he didn't dare let himself hold onto for too long.

I sighed, that same wave of reality washing over me, forcing my heart to beat quicker and my mind to race with doubt. Moving my head back a little more I whispered the thought, the fear that had kept us from committing to this all along, "This is a bad idea."

He nodded, not in agreement, but in acknowledgment that this was the very fear he shared. Adam's apple bobbing, Jake's eyes dropped to my lips as he sighed, "One of my worst."

I wasn't prepared for the kiss, or the way his hand wound into my hair to pull me closer. Though, I should have been. Jake tasted like oysters and champagne, smoke and, and want. He pulled me effortlessly into his lap, coaxing my mouth open and tangling his tongue with mine to effectively silence that pesky thought in both our minds. He was addictive and he knew it. Smug bastard, he was.

Of all the times we'd kissed, this one felt the most like our first. Maybe it was because of the way he'd been acting like he had in the beginning, asshole-ish and reserved. Or maybe it was because we both knew this was it. There was no forgotten thing, no drunk Russian or nosey lesbians. It was just us.

This was it.

I pulled back slightly, my hand smoothing over his jaw as we both dropped the act and slowly started to abandon our fear in favor of that intimate thing that hummed between us. Still, I couldn't resist the taunt that slid off my tongue, "So, you don't want to be my friend anymore?"

Jake scoffed, pressing another kiss to my lips. "Stop talking."

"I thought you liked being my friend," I continued to tease, threading my fingers into his hair as his mouth moved down the column of my neck. I had to hold in a moan as his teeth tugged at the skin there.

"I like this better," he breathed out, smirking against my skin. His hands gripped my thighs and pulled me down further, rubbing our hips together in a way that sent pleasure up my spine. This time I couldn't contain the wanton moan. Jake chuckled. "Much better."

With a breathless huff, I pulled his hair until his head tilted back up to me. "Shut up."

“Oh,” he whispered breathlessly, lips pulling up into that cocky smirk of his. “Now you wanna stop talking?”

Before I could answer Jake had shifted, rolling me onto the couch beneath him. The new cushions were slow to yield to the weight of us, stiff but not uncomfortable. Above me, Jake's chain necklace dangled, glinting in the low moonlight as it kissed my lips just like he'd done seconds ago. He smirked down at me for a second before all the attitude and the teasing faded, leaving him just smiling down at me as he lifted a hand to my face.

His fingers traced my lips, gliding along my jaw. The swell of warmth… Of want made my chest constrict almost to the point of pain. Out of all the nights we’d spent together - out of all the things we'd already done - this moment was unlike all of them. I wanted him more than I could even understand and in some way… Through some invisible bond between us, I knew he felt the same. 

I lifted my head off the cushion and chased his lips. “I wanna stop talking now.”

Jake's still smokey breath fanned across my face as he chuckled. “Okay, Princess. No more talking.”

Our mouths met again, eager and hungry. It was like the feeling of his velvety lips on me, of his hands stroking and squeezing, erasing every thought in my brain. Everything that wasn't him just suddenly didn't matter. Jake dragged his tongue down my neck, fingers tugging the straps of the dress off my shoulders so his lips and teeth could literally my collarbones with kisses and bite marks.

To my surprise he kept moving down lower and lower until his hands were tucked up my dress, pulling my panties off my legs. Jake bit into the meat of my thigh, dragging me down the couch until my ass was literally in his hands. I lifted my head just in time to catch a glimpse of his dark head of hair vanishing beneath my dress as he dove mouth-first into my pussy.

“Oh my god!” I squeezed in shock as his warm tongue lather over my clit. “Jake!”

His fingers squeezing my thighs and holding them open was the only answer I received as his tongue continued its skilled work. With my head pressed firmly to the cushions, I gripped onto his hair, lifting my hips in time with his tongue movements and chasing the pleasure he so shamelessly offered. “Yes! Oh, Jake, right there!”

His teeth grazed my clit, sending me spasming as I came. That didn't stop him though. Jake's tongue just kept licking and sucking, drinking up every ounce that I had to offer until I was practically vibrating beneath him. I pulled his hair harder, pushing him off me and quickly standing up. Before he could ask what I was doing I tugged at his shirt. “Take this off.”

The wicked grin he answered with glowed in the candlelight. “Not gonna say please?”

Reaching down I tugged on his chain, taunting him with an almost kiss. “Now.”

Humming Jake rose from his knees and lifted the shirt over his head, spreading his arms and lightly flexing. “Happy now?”

I raked my nails over his abdomen, instantly undoing his belt as Jake's hands started sliding my arms through the straps of my dress. “I'll be much happier when we're both naked.”

“That makes two of us,” he agreed with a groan as the dress slid off my body with no resistance. Jake's mouth fell open as he lifted his lands to tease my nipples. “God you're perfect.”

My fingers fumbled, head nearly falling back as the pleasure his touch brought spiked through me. “Jake.”

His body pressed closer to mine, forcing me to step back until the backs of my legs hit his bed. “Are you sur-”

I silenced him with a finger over the lips and a gentle reminder, “No more talking.”

Without any more chances to let my fear win out, I finished with his belt and zipper. Kissing down his chest I slowly sank to my knees, taking his pants and underwear with me until his hard, pulsing cock was dangling in front of me. Jake watched me press a few light kisses to the head of him as he carefully lifted his feet out of his jeans. His breaths stuttered as I licked him base to tip, swirling my tongue around him the way I knew he liked from the first time.

“Fuck,” he breathed, quickly taking hold of my face. “As much as I fucking love that mouth of yours princess… I wanna actually fuck you tonight.”

I grinned, kissing his cock again. “Later then?”

“Absolutely.”

Standing in front of him, I set my hands on his broad shoulders, leaning up to kiss him again. Jake's hands wound into my hair as he turned us, pulling me on top of him as he settled on his back. I shifted my hips and angled his cock perfectly allowing me to finally, slowly begin to sink down on top of him. Jake's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth falling open as a surprised, pleasured sound fell from between his lips. His hands scrambled over my waist, squeezing my flesh. “Fuck.”

The stretch wasn't painful, not after the care Jake had taken, but I found myself shaking. It felt so good. Finally having him inside me, the impressive dick his ego permitted me from ever complimenting, hit all the right spots. It'd been a year since I'd had sex, but already, I found myself questioning if anyone else had ever made me feel like this with nothing more than one tiny thrust.

Once I was fully seated on top of him I found my eyes closing, head tilting back as I enjoyed the simple feeling of him twitching inside me, breathing beneath me, holding me. “Holy shit.”

“You're not wasting any time,” he said, holding onto me like his life depended on it. “Got somewhere to be?”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” I replied, ignoring his teasing to lift my hips and bending over him. “So fuck me.”

Jake kissed me hard, setting one hand on the small of my back and using it to push me back down onto his dick. My sharp gasp broke our kiss and spurred my body into moving. Every thrust sent pure pleasure radiating through my body. Every noise Jake made was echoed by the ones I made. It was that word he'd kept saying. Perfect.

When my legs started to shake and my body felt heavier to lift in the fervorous up and down movements, Jake sat up. His tongue lathered over a nipple, earning another sharp sound from my throat, as his fingers traced up my spine and gently closed around the back of my neck. I could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as he pulled my nipple between his teeth. “Come on, princess. Don't stop.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, the desperate sound of his voice emptying my brain even more. “I… Oh god…”

“Don't tell me you're tired already,” he taunted, using his hands on my hip and neck to help lift and pull me. “We just got started.”

Grinding my teeth together to hold in the moan I bit back, “I should have guessed you'd be a pillow princess.”

Jake laughed, tilting his head up to kiss me again. “We can switch if you want.”

“Fuck you,” I answered breathlessly, my eyes punching together as the pleasure all began to build up inside me.

“That's what you're doing… Trying to at least.” He withdrew all attempts at helping me, returning his attention to my breasts.

“Jake,” I whined after what felt like hours. God, I'm out of Practice. Jake only hummed in reply to his name. “Please.”

More smug than ever he finally slid his hands to my waist and expertly flipped me onto my back. His sheets felt cold against my hot skin, but I hardly had a moment to focus on that when Jake wasted no time lifting one of my legs onto his shoulder and securing the other around his waist. “Try not to scream my name too loud, the neighbors tend to get mad about that.”

“You-” He thrust into me, the angle and the power behind it making sparks shoot up my stomach into my chest. “Oh fuck!”

“There you go,” he mumbled, fingers curling into the sheets by my head. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”

As he picked up the pace I realized I couldn't have denied his request even if I wanted to. Every noise I made echoed off the brick walls, every wet noise that his thrusts made only filled me with more fire. My fingers dug into his arms and clawed at his back as that coil in my gut wound tighter and tighter. “Jake,” I begged. “Don't stop!”

“Come on, princess,” he urged, pressing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. “I wanna feel you.”

“Ah!” I could feel myself tighten around him, drawing out another moan from Jake's lips.

“Fuck!” He cursed under his breath. “That's my girl. Come on… Come for me, Lena.”

That, the fucked out, desperate, adoring uttering of my name was what made the coil in my gut burst. Fingers digging into Jake's hair, pulling his lips down against mine I came around him, shaking as he thrust again and again and again, fucking me through the orgasm and into another as he came with me. His body tensed and shivered as he kissed me through his orgasm, pulling away to let out a shaky breath before he collapsed on top of me.

My chest heaved beneath him as I stretched my fingers and carefully pulled them from his hair. “Holy… Shit…”

Jake carefully rolled off me, throwing the condom away and collapsing next to me. “We should have been doing that this whole time.”

“Definitely,” I agreed, twisting my head to look at him… Afraid of what I'd find in his eyes when I did. Had this been a mistake?

Jake was smiling, genuinely smiling at me. His eyes were light and sparkling as he pulled me into his arms and threw his blanket over us both. His lips kissed my shoulders and my jaw and even though we’d just spent the last hour or more fucking I felt that swell of want again. “You know, we could be in the dark for a while.”

“All night even,” he agreed. “You should definitely stay the night.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, kissing his lips. “And are you gonna… Entertain me?”

Nodding Jake traced the snake on my spine. “Of course. What kinda man would I be if I left you unsatisfied?”

It was going to be a long night. Long and sweaty and perfect.

*

Dom looked at the now entirely empty shop with a dead stare. His life's work was fucking gone, and it was all his fault. Desperate anger and a bitter, frustrated sorrow filled his lungs with a scream. He threw empty tool carts across the shop floor and kicked the side of the nearest car. Dom exploded, lashing out until he had to stop. 

His back slammed into one of the cars, and he bowed low. Defeated. The sound of her light footsteps treading through his mess gave him some tiny hint of hope. He watched her carefully slide into place beside him, looking out at the empty space. "Sorry."

"Stop." He shook his head, glaring at her. "I hate it when you apologize when you did nothin’ wrong."

Sarah giggled, bumping her shoulder into his. "Sorry."

"You're the worst."

She looked around with an exasperated sigh. "They really did a number on the place, huh?"

Nodding, he slapped the side of the car they leaned on. "Fuckers even took the damn hub caps."

"You are gonna take care of this, right, D?" Her emerald eyes sparkled up at him, hopeful and innocent. His baby sister. "I don't wanna lose you like Eddie."

His jaw clenched at the mention of the name. "Yeah, I'll take care of it."

She held out her pinky with tears in her eyes. "You promise?"

Dom wrapped his finger around hers and sighed, engulfing her in a big hug. "Yeah, I promise."

When he opened his eyes, Dom could still feel the warmth of Sarah's embrace. His mind clung to the sweet moments they'd shared until the end - until the pain made him feel like he couldn't breathe. That sensation forced him upright, scrambling to grab hold of the drugs he'd left at his bedside. He wanted to forget. More than anything, he wanted the pain to stop. 

Green eyes flashed in his mind. Hers and Lena's. He'd made them both a promise… A stupid fucking pinky swear. His fist tightened around the drugs as he forced himself to throw them across the room. "God dammit!"

"Well, ain't you just pathetic?”

Dom's head twisted to the door where Eddie lounged against the old frame. “The fuck are you doin here?”

Eddie shrugged, a heavy sigh following him as he sat in the cot opposite his. “It's her birthday today… Figured that's the kinda thing that warrants a temporary truce. We're family after all.”

“You're no family of mine,” he ground out.

Dom could see the hurt in Eddie's eyes, but as always he erased it with that goddamn smirk. “Feelings mutual, big brother. But, I ain't here for you. I'm here 'cause it's what she woulda wanted.”

“She doesn't get to want anything,” Dom said. “Not anymore.”

Eddie nodded, tensely. “Well, we both seem to have conflicting opinions about whose fault that is.”

“Get the fuck out!” Dom shouted, throwing himself to his feet to grab onto Eddie's jacket and throw him out the door. “You get the fuck out before I fucking kill you!”

“Oh, we both know how much you'd like that,” Eddie spat back, laughing in Dom's face. “Sibling killer that you are.”

It took four of his bikers to hold him back while Eddie waved off his men and left with a bitter curse in Spanish. After the noise of their car had gone, the bikers let him go and Dom was out the door. He needed some air. He needed some space away from this fucking warehouse… This fucking city.

There, illuminated in the golden rays of the rising sun, Mav sat on his bike, resting her head in her hands with a wide - real smile. Dom shook his head, forcing out the angry breath he'd been holding. “It's shit like this that makes everyone think you're a bitch.”

She just shrugged, that smile never faltering. “That a no to taking a joyride?”

“I could never say no to you.”

“It's one of the few things I like about you,” she teased, sitting up as he neared. The flippant, uncaring attitude fell for a moment as she asked, “You okay?”

Dom shook his head and answered with the truth, “No.”

Sliding back on the bike seat she patted the fine leather. “Come on then, big boy. Let's go for a ride.”

“Course, Mrs…. What is it now? Scott?”

Mav rolled her eyes. “As if I'd take that old fucks last name.”

With a chuckle, he smiled at her. “That's my Mav.”

“I'm not your anything,” she argued half-heartedly. 

Dom threw his leg over the seat and settled in with her sweet smell and soft hands around his waist. He revved the engine and Mav's arms squeezed him tighter. “You'll always be my Mav.”

“Just drive the damn bike, Dom.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

[pearlstiare]

ﾟ･*⋆ ☾ 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 (𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑) - 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒:

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐎𝐘

After another fight with Simone, Jake has an encounter with a Woman. Meeting that is going to change everything for him.

[lenreli]

[tsintotwo]

Tom Sturridge Acting Mirrors: Dominance

All up in your personal space, babe.

[tarotoftheendless]

Life Update and Tom Sturridge FanFic Ideas...

Hey, so, life has been crazy. I haven't been able to focus on writing at all. I want to continue my Waiting for Forever fanfic, but until my life can get back to normal, it might not be for a while.

Also, save for maybe two people, no one seemed to really be engaging with the fic in the first place, so, if people really want to know what happens, maybe some encouragement and interest would be helpful. I love Willie very much, but unless others show that they love Willie too and want to know where his and Jules' story is going, I might not have much motivation to continue the story. I am writing this for me too, but having other people getting some sort of enjoyment from it really does help.

I also have had Jake from Sweetbitter fanfic ideas rolling around in my head as he is the next of Tom's characters that I feel strongly about. Jake deserved so much better than he got and my heart breaks for him. I have story ideas, that either I could write (if my ADHD lets me) or I could collab with someone on the ideas and they can write it. Most of what I write I have wanted to read, so, if a writer that has written for Jake before or wants to write for Jake would like to talk to me about my idea, all I ask is that I get credit for the idea and my input. I really wish I had the energy to write, but all my energy is either going towards depression or stress or focusing on what I need to do in my day to day life that is kinda in upheaval right now. I have been posting to my Instagram a fair bit, some Lives, doing tarot readings for/about Tom Sturridge and Alexa Chung... making posts about Widow Clicquot and all that. So, check out my Instagram, under the same name as here.

I hope to one day get back to writing for Willie, he deserves an epic, beautiful love story. Same with Jake. I have ideas, ones that are good for Jake. Anyway, love ya'll.

[endlessbittersweetdreams]

Just curious! What do you think will happen, or what do you HOPE will happen, in the next chapter of "Passion Play"?

Remember: This will be the Halloween chapter.

@anastacia-lynn

@kimmyiewrites

@ladyredstar1991

@mypsychoticlove

@peageetibbs

@thepaintedlady00

@rey-jake-therapist

@tarotoftheendless

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 21 | Chapter 23

TW: idiot fluff, I'm DRAAAAGGGGIIINNNGGGG this slowburn out til it kills us all, some heavy topics of abusers, past violence and assault, feelings of general anxiousness, as always language, mentions of drugs and drinking, a bit of Olive drama, teasing, conversations of past murder, Mav is just a whole TW in and of itself sometimes (but I love her), heavy topics, a fluffy kissing session or two, general fluff, having to work on Thanksgiving, Jennifer drama, some good ol found family content and a totally not foreboding end 🤭 Happy (late) Thanksgiving everyone! I hope y'all had an amazing day and some good food! Love y'all!

Chapter 22: Lemon Meringue

"Come out and face me, coward."

The words echoed in Anthony's mind like a discordant symphony. Howard had given the message to him all while whining and babbling like a child about the violence he'd endured. At first, Anthony had laughed. Leave it to the old drug dealer to rely on some spineless, worthless little puppet to deliver a threat. But, the longer he sat with it the more annoyed he got.

Coward. That word in particular left a foul taste in his mouth. Anthony Grosvenor was many things, but a coward? No. Absolutely not. 

He'd destroyed the crystal glassware on his table, leaving glittering chunks of it scattered along his floor. With a frustrated curse in French, he slicked his hair back and straightened his tie. Stepping over the mess Tony snapped his fingers and Jules followed. "Tell the maids to clean well today. I don't want a shard left on this floor."

"Of course, Sir."

"Now, remind me of our schedule." The two moved to the kitchen, where he gathered a new glass and bottle. "Nothing for this month, Sir. But, next, we have the party and-"

He waved his hand and poured himself a glass of the fine red. "Call Howard. Tell him to hang the thing in that horrid restaurant. And cancel the party."

Jules gave him a confused look. "Are you sure? You were very clear that you-"

"I know what I wanted, but that was then. And after this… poor attempt at a threat, it's obvious we'll need to be rid of that mutt before I can do what's necessary."

"Of course, Sir. We'll do whatever you require of us."

"Good," Tony sneered, examining the wine in his glass. Jules turned to carry out his orders no doubt. "And Jules," Tony added, causing the large man to turn, revealing his scarred, half-missing ear. "I want the dog gone. For good this time."

Jules smiled, "Understood, Sir."

Tony watched the red liquid swirl in his glass, reminiscent of the coming holiday. A holiday that should have been spent with Lena at his side behaving like he'd taught her to. Instead, she'd be at that diner with those people, her so-called family. 

He knew the truth of it though. He was her family. He was her everything. Lena could run and fight him for as long as she wanted, but that simple fact would never change. Anthony owned her, mind, body, and soul. She was branded by him, his adoration as well as his cruelty, and he was the only one who knew her for the monster she was. After all, he'd made her that way.

Lena would come home. Whether she came of her own volition or came dragged back by the hair she'd be at his side again. One way or another she always came back to him.

*

There was something so simple about moments of peaceful bliss. A simplicity that I knew was ever fleeting. It was a thing to be cherished, felt fully without reservation. So as the Irish folk music blared through the walls of my family's apartment I just smiled and buried my head in the crook of Jake's neck.

It had been a while since I'd woken up beside someone - or rather, a while since I'd gotten used to waking up with a particular someone. Waking up with Jake's arms around me was one of those precious moments I felt at peace. I clung to his warmth, content to lay there for the rest of the day, a feeling he seemed to share as he sleepily mumbled and pulled me closer into him.

My fingers idly traced the mermaid tail on his arm, drifting upwards to give the same attention to the words over his ribs. I smiled at the feeling of his breath shuddering beneath me, pursuing my lips to kiss the underside of his jaw. Outside my bedroom, my brothers clamored around, but I didn't mind their noise this morning, not when Jake was here.

He lifted a hand, catching the one that traced his tattoos and lacing our fingers together. "You're tickling me."

Humming softly I brushed my nose against his ear before tugging on it with my teeth. "Good morning."

"Mmmm," he groaned, turning and trapping me beneath him. Jake's lips sloppily pressed to my head, my cheeks, and my jaw before he finally cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine. The soft tired kiss left me feeling breathless as he lifted his head and smiled down at me. "Morning."

There was an odd and overwhelming feeling of intimacy and vulnerability that filled my chest with the burning longing to stay in this bed with Jake forever. Safe, tucked away in a tiny corner of the world where I knew nothing could hurt me. While I'd come to accept my deep feelings for the bartender, the thought of having to voice such things made my tongue feel like iron in my mouth. It should be easy, I told myself as I looked up into Jake's pretty eyes. Should be… But wasn't.

A pang of guilt and shame and white-hot anger made my lungs burn as I reminded myself why it wasn't easy. Why I was so afraid to just admit to the man sharing my bed that I liked him - adored him - and wanted to at least try to be something more? Tony had ruined such simplicity for me. He'd all but destroyed the very possibility of me having the courage to tell anyone in my life that I loved them, especially in a romantic sense. It'd fucked up a lot of things early on and had been a large factor as to why I only had casual flings and not full-fledged relationships. Sam was the first one who had gotten close to anything real. 

"Why can't you just love me back?"

"It's not that simple, Sammy."

"Yes, it is. You either love me or you don't, Lena."

"Then I guess I don't."

My jaw clenched as I shoved it all back inside the overflowing box inside. I smiled at Jake, caressed his face, and breathed in his smell. I'm here. I'm safe. "So," I started with an awkward laugh. "Seems like we've got a lot to talk about."

He flopped onto his side with a smile. "Yeah, the rainchecks are starting to build up."

"They are," I agreed softly.

Jake looked at me for a minute, those eyes taking in my face with a tired sparkle of wonder and something more. He smiled, moving to sit up and stretch. "Come on, I owe you some shitty eggs."

I followed his lead, quietly tossing his pants to him, happy that he didn't seem interested in pushing what was left unsaid between us until we both popped. In the living room, my brothers tied their shoes and quietly talked amongst themselves before they smirked up at us. "Mornin."

"Hey," I greeted, rubbing the rest of the sleep from my eyes. "We were just about to make breakfast."

Patrick kissed my head as Peter finished tying his shoes. "No breakfast today."

"What?"

"We're taking the boy on a jog," he replied, slapping Jake on the shoulder.

The still-tired bartender made a face. "The fuck did I do to deserve that?"

My brothers howled with laughter. Peter stood up and kissed my cheek. "You stuck around, of course!"

Patrick ruffled Jake's messy hair. "Hurry downstairs and get changed, little brother. We're taking the scenic route today!"

Biting back a laugh I smugly grinned at him. "That means they're taking you the long way."

"Shut up," he huffed. "Horrible. All of you."

"Have fun!" I yelled after them, earning a middle finger from them all as they closed the door behind them.

Isaac emerged from Peter's room with a shy smile. He gestured toward the door. “Quinn and I are getting breakfast. You wanna come?”

"Sure curly," I replied, ruffling his hair.

I dressed in warm, casual clothes and linked arms with my brother's boyfriend as we walked along the busy sidewalk towards the only other diner in town Quinn would eat at. Isaac was thankfully back to his bright, cheery self. I'd missed his laughter and his exaggerated stories. Though his face still held the faint marks his monster left his heart hadn't been marred. Isaac remained the man he always was, kind and thoughtful and funny and I was grateful for it.

Lifting a finger to his cheek I prodded one of the faint marks. “Your face looks better than it did a few weeks ago.”

He sweetly smiled, scratched his head, and shrugged. “Guess I get to keep my status as prettiest cook at 22West.”

“Guess so,” I laughed. “Careful though, Santos is awfully pretty. I'd hate for you to lose your title.”

The two of us continued to tease each other as we sat down in the old booth and looked at the menus. Isaac looked around with furrowed brows. “Quinn must be running late.”

I hummed, following his lead and looking around the diner. “Maybe she overslept.”

Isaac nodded, but a look of uncertainty remained in his eyes. “Maybe.”

“Hey, she’s alright.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, staring down at the table.

“How are you doing?” I asked, reaching over to take hold of his hand. “It’s been a minute since I asked.”

With that blinding smile of his, Isaac replied, “I’m doing good. Better than I have been in a while, but there’s still those days ya know?”

“I know.”

Squeezing my hand he drew in a deep breath. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me, Lena.”

“That’s what friends are for.” I smiled. “Besides, what kind of sister would I be if I let my brother's boyfriend suffer?”

The diner bell chimed as Quinn hurried through and wordlessly found our table. As she sat down, shedding her jacket and throwing it into the booth beside me I could see the tenseness in her shoulders and the set look on her face that she always got when some shit went down. “Sorry, I’m late.”

Isaac waved her off. “No worries. We ordered your usual for you.”

“Thanks.”

Conversation flowed as usual between Isaac and me, but Quinn seemed far away only joining us in speaking when we addressed her. When the curly-haired man excused himself to the bathroom I nudged her shoulder. “You okay?”

She blinked a few times, clearly being pulled from whatever thoughts were on her mind. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Quinn.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s just… been a long morning.”

“Did something happen with you and Ari?”

Shaking her head she scoffed. “Course not. We’re solid.”

I tilted my head and forced her to hold my eyes. “Spill it, Q.”

“Lee, it’s seriously nothing.” She took a drink. “I’m a big girl, I’ve got it under control.”

“Fine,” I relented as the server came with our food. “Just remember if you need anything we’re here for you.”

“I know.”

*

Exercise wasn't anything new to Jake, especially not after the months of training with Patrick, but this was just torture. They jogged through the city streets for what felt like hours. Block after block the Harrow brothers just kept jogging. They made small talk here and there, but mostly just laughed at his struggle to keep the pace they'd set. So, when Nana's diner came into view Jake almost cried.

The three of them hurried through the door. Patrick patted Jake's back as he bent over gasping for air. "Don't pass out on us now, little brother."

"You two are sadists," he heaved in reply.

Peter waved down Nana as she emerged from behind the counter. "Can we get some water, Nana?"

She laughed and hurried off to get it for them as they moved through the diner toward the back booth. Jake's fatigue and slightly poor attitude faded at the sight of Dom already waiting. Seemed like the conversation that was promised wasn't gonna wait.

They sat in silence, everything fading until all that remained was the topic none of them wanted to bring up. Dom spoke first, "How is she this morning?"

"She seems alright," Peter answered. 

"So, you decided not to tell her?" Dom continued.

Jake swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. "I don't want to lie to her but this… She should be the one to choose when she wants to talk about it."

The drug dealer nodded in approval. "Smart boy." He set his hands on the table with a sigh. "You have questions though."

"Don't we all?" Patrick sneered.

Peter jabbed him. "Don't start this again Pat."

"I just don't see why Dom's so keen on keeping us in the dark."

Jake turned to look at them, confused as to what they meant. "I made her a promise. One I ain't gonna break just cause you want me to."

Patrick sat back, the four of them going quiet as Nana approached. "Oh, my strong boys!" She pinched his cheek and smiled at everyone. "It is early today, I hope you're here because you are hungry."

"We're starving," Peter assured her.

"Good!" She clapped. "I make all your favorites!"

They watched her leave and when she disappeared Dom settled back and gestured to Jake. "Alright, tough guy, ask me."

Ask me. It sounded so simple, but this… It wasn't simple. Every question he had hung on the tip of his tongue. Who is he? How long did she have to go through that? How old was she? So many questions… But the one that came out first was this: "Why didn't you help her?"

Dom's jaw clenched and for a minute Jake thought he'd just fucked everything up. He expected Dom to hit him, to reach out and grab him, but he didn't. Dom just held his gaze and answered, "I didn't know how bad it was. Not til she told me. I…" He sighed, turning to look out the window for a moment. "I should have known. I should have done something sooner and that's something I'll have to live with."

Patrick bumped his shoulder as if to shake him from the startled punch-ready state. "Relax, little brother. We all asked that question first."

"Dom's heard it a lot by now," Peter added.

"Who knows?"

That seemed to make Patrick a bit angry. "You'll have to be more specific." His eyes drifted to Dom. "The question you ought to ask is who knows what?"

"Isaac and Prue know the least." Dom held Pat's glare. "They know the name and a very very vague summary of what went down. Peter, Patrick, and Oz know a bit more than that. Names, locations, durations, and a few other things she chose to share. Nana and Quinn know just a bit more than them, not a lot but enough."

Jake somehow felt more confused. How could they all know such varying degrees of the same information? "And you?"

Patrick scoffed. "Dom knows all of it. Every name, location, duration, and god damn detail."

Dom's eyes filled with guilt for a moment, but it faded quickly. "I know what she told me."

"And she just happened to tell you all of it."

"Patrick," Peter warned. "We're all on the same side here."

"Same side my ass." He shook his head. "I deserve to know what that motherfucker did to my sister so I can pay it forward whenever he slinks back to town."

Peter just sighed, looking tired. "Not even Dad knew all of it, Pat. She obviously doesn't want us to know."

Jake stared at his now half-empty glass of water, only half listening to the others as they quietly argued for a moment. He wanted to know everything and at the same time, he wanted to know nothing at all. "What's his name?"

Dom's head tilted slightly, a look of pride… Respect calming his features. "Anthony. But the fucker likes to be called Tony."

Anthony. He repeated the name about fifty times before his mouth opened again. "How long?"

"Three years."

Three years. In any other circumstance, he'd consider it a short amount of time. Three years of torture though… That was different, longer. "And were those three years filled with… That?"

Dom looked down. "That and worse."

Worse? Jake almost scoffed. What could possibly be worse than that? He would have asked, but the look in the eyes of Lena's brothers and Dom told him he probably didn't want to know… And that they likely wouldn't have told him even if he did. Anger replaced his curiosity. "Where is he now?"

"Around."

Patrick slammed his hand onto the table. "Dom I swear to god–"

"I'm taking care of it."

"That's what you always say," he argued. "And yet every time he comes back. So, enlighten us, how the fuck are you handling this?"

Peter, the logical and cool-headed older brother, seemed just as angry now. "I don't want a repeat of what happened after Dad died, Dom."

The drug dealer nodded, guilt once again making his lips cast downward. "It won't come to that."

"How do you know?" Peter wasn't giving up.

"That was different. He had leverage-"

"He always has leverage," Peter argued.

Patrick shook his head. "What I'm hearing is you don't have a goddamn clue what you're doing."

Dom's glare was deadly as he pointed to Patrick. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Jake decided to speak up and hopefully avoid a fight breaking out between the two. "Does he pop up often?"

"No," Peter answered while the other two continued their stare-down. "He left her alone for a few years after she got out for good. But, once our dad died he started showing up, causing trouble, and trying to get her to go back with him."

"That's underselling it a bit," Patrick scoffed. "Son of a bitch tries kidnapping her, threatening everyone she cares about, making her relapse. Fucker shot me the last time he came round."

Jake raised his brows in disbelief, staring at the redhead as he touched his arm. Peter rolled his eyes. "The bullet barely touched you."

"Still fuckin' stung."

Dom shook his head and continued. "I'm handling it. You morons just need to keep her out of it. Keep her happy."

Peter chuckled a bit. "Pretty tall order."

Patrick joined in. "She's a tough one to keep happy."

"Seems pretty easy to me," Jake said with a smug grin.

"Disgusting!" Peter hollered, glancing his way with a pointed look. "That's my sister."

Nana set the plates down in front of them with a smile. "It is so good to see my boys laughing together!" She stroked his hair lovingly and did the same to Dom's shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything else."

As Jake sat with the Harrow boys and the drug dealer inhaling their food, he felt a weight lift off his chest. Whatever guilt he felt slowly eased with the knowledge that he wasn't alone in this messy situation. He had the others to help keep him on the right track with Lena.

Maybe, just maybe he had a chance at doing whatever this was right. Maybe this time he wouldn't fuck it up.

*

Simone walked with her head high, taking in the lovely color of the leaves and enjoying the chilled breeze as she moved through the crowds of people. She wasn't a fan of the cold, but some days it had a usefulness in distracting her. No amount of cold, however, could distract her from the fast-approaching holiday.

Thanksgiving, a time of family and joy and food and laughter. A time to keep up appearances and keep people in line so as not to overstep or overreach. Simone hated Thanksgiving, as she did most holidays because it forced her to sit at a table with her parents and pretend there wasn't unspoken animosity between them. 

Her father was a drunk, not a violent one, but an absent one. He used holidays to fuel his addiction and spout off whatever nonsense his mind was filled with that particular holiday. It ruined the mood for everyone quickly. Her mother was timid and unimaginative. She married the first man that offered her the security she sought. She took no risks, had no adventures, and was - at least in Simone's mind - useless outside the role of wife. Her mother had settled and in turn, she'd inadvertently ruined Simone's one chance at happiness with Etienne.

In just a few days she'd pack a bag and drive to Cape Cod to endure the family dinner. It wouldn't be too bad, she reminded herself. Jake will certainly take some of the edge off. He was always in such a sour mood about going back home. Childishly he'd whine about not wanting to go - a few times he'd even tell her he wasn't going - but he'd always be there in the morning with his bags.

It was annoying in the way most repetitive things were, but if Simone was truly honest she enjoyed the back and forth. She enjoyed watching Jake fight and struggle against it only to give in to her. The sex was another plus. She'd sneak into his room once her parents had gone to bed and they'd share in a night of passion where his loyalty and love were confirmed as hers and hers alone. It reminded her of when they were younger, of the first times she'd gone to his room.

As she neared Jake's apartment she was bitterly reminded of their last trip to the Cape and how unfulfilled she was left. It still filled her with rage when she remembered the sight of that red-haired felon sitting across from Jake in that diner or when she'd had the nerve to share a cigarette with him and give her that look through the window. Hopefully, she didn't have to worry about that this time.

It wasn't hard to rattle the girl given her obvious insecurities where intimate relationships were involved. Implying her little get-together with Jake was more than just a simple meeting between friends had sent her into an obvious spiral of anxiety. She smiled to herself at the memory of her pretty little face losing its smile and adopting a wide-eyed look of terror. Simone had just been lucky enough to hear about their plans through a well-timed trip to the locker room. Ari's new fling was too loud for her own good when she'd called to spread the gossip of Jake and Lena's plans to her lover.

Simone opened Jake's apartment door without knocking, not caring if she caught him in the throws of passion with some girl or not. She didn't expect to find his apartment empty. Jake was a boy of habit. He slept in till noon and left his apartment a mess, yet his bed was neatly made and his place was tidy. She hummed curiously as she leafed through his mail and moved through his space in search of anything out of place.

A hiss drew her eyes to the floor where a hideous cat peeked out from behind his counter. "Why hello there," she cooed to the cat. "What are you doing here?"

The black, hairless thing lifted its body and hissed. Simone chuckled, Seems he finally found something as grumpy as him. She bent down and reached out toward it, earning a quick scratch to the back of her hand and another louder hiss before the creature scurried beneath Jake's bed. Its eyes glowed in the darkness as it watched her with discontent.

She examined the small cut with a scoff. "Unruly thing."

Simone picked Jake's discarded clothes up off the floor, taking them into the bathroom to place them in his hamper. A shirt sat on his counter, neatly folded beside a shopping bag. The lingerie inside made her frown with disappointment. Of course, he's wasting his money on little gifts for her. She huffed, looking at his shelves and tapping her fingers on his camera as she held it in her hands and turned it on to leaf through whatever little sights Jake had deemed important enough to dust off his useless little camera.

Her frown grew, and the sliver of assured importance in the bartender's life turned to a fire of bitter anger. Simone swallowed it, grabbed the shirt, and left the apartment, storing that anger hoping it'd prove useful to her - more useful than it had the last time.

*

Jake moved, weaving and dodging, stepping and striking like all of it was second nature - something he'd been doing his whole life. As I watched from the front counter I couldn't help but admire the beauty of him. His toned muscles glistened with sweat, flexing and relaxing in intervals. His messy hair was haphazardly slicked back but those stubborn strands still fell beautifully out of place around his face. The focus in his eyes, the pure confidence and determination they held… It was mesmerizing.

It felt like he'd been dancing in the ring with Zeke for hours, but realistically it'd only taken him four hits to win the practice match. Once Patrick declared the win Jake's demeanor relaxed and he quickly checked up on Zeke, who complimented his powerful strikes. Patrick stood next to him, giving him praise and pointers, but Jake's eyes drifted to me. That smirk and a wink was all it took to turn me into a blushing mess, one Peter saw.

My brother wiggled his eyebrows. "Not a word or I'll start talking about you and your boyfriend."

He held his hands up. "I was just gonna say you look good today."

"Sure you were." Glancing at the clock I turned toward the ring. "Hey, Tough Guy! Hit the showers or we're gonna be late!"

Rolling his eyes he caught the water bottle Pat tossed him and headed towards the locker room. Patrick hopped down and stood on the opposite side of the front counter, sipping his own water. He and Peter shared a look. "So…"

Pat swallowed. "You and the boy… What's going on there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you two official yet?" Peter clarified.

The nervous tension swelled in my gut again as I shrugged them off and moved to head up the stairs and get ready myself. "Gonna just ignore us?"

"Yep!" I answered.

In the quiet safety of my bedroom, I didn't let myself sit with the question. Nor did I let the answer sink in. Jake was Jake. I was me. That was it, that was all. Unpacking how badly I wanted it to be me and Jake or Jake and I… Well, that would just ruin it. I didn't want to lose what we'd spent all this time building. I didn't want to fuck it up.

Downstairs Jake was waiting for me by the door, dressed in his casual clothes and ready for the walk to work. We both ignored my brothers as they gushed over us and we walked together as if nothing had changed. But, we both felt it. We both knew the truth.

Everything had changed.

*

The second Jake walked through the kitchen door he was met with pure chaos. The kitchen was in disorderly work while the servers were sprinting around. Beside him, Lena whistled. "What the fuck?"

Scott's head shot up. "Finally! Get changed, we need all hands on deck, Red!"

"What's going on?"

"Howard's gone," Scott replied. "Just texted Will and I that he's taking some time off."

Jake hid his smirk, trying to picture just how fucked Howard's face looked after the beating he took. Serves him right. Lena sighed and scratched her head. "Fuck. Okay. I'll be right down."

“Sounds like tonight's gonna be great,” he said with a grin. Lena shot him a glance, a small smirk on her lips. “No Howard up everyone's ass.”

“And a dining room full of whiny guests and no manager. What could possibly go wrong?”

He shrugged off his jacket as they neared the top of the steps. “I thought you'd have more faith in Will's managerial skills.”

As if on cue the suited man bolted from the locker room, face tight with anxiety as he practically threw himself down the steps with a rushed, “Excuse me!”

Lena watched him go and sighed again. “Yep, we're fucked.”

Nudging her shoulder Jake kept walking. “Have some faith. He'll figure it out.”

“Never thought I'd hear you of all people chime in for Will.”

“Shut up.”

Their soft laughter died the second they walked through the locker room door. Simone stood, buttoning up her shirt and staring at them with hardened eyes and a stiff smile. Jake knew that look, that judgmental way she regarded him, and given what she'd said to Lena they were overdue for another one of those conversations he hated so much. Lena spoke first, “Good morning.”

Simone chuckled. “Good is hardly the word I'd use to describe the start of this day.”

“Howards gone,” Jake said. “I'd call that a pretty good start.”

She ignored his comment entirely and smoothed her fingers over the bandage on her hand. “I stopped by your apartment and met that unruly creature you've taken in.”

Quietly cursing himself Jake nodded, opening the locker and putting his jacket inside. “It takes him a little time to warm up to people.”

“It scratched me,” Simone said harshly. “Leave it for you to find an animal with just as sour a mood as you.” Checking her lipstick in the mirror she continued. “I won't be taking care of it when you get bored.”

“I don't expect you to take care of him,” Jake answered, rolling his eyes. “We both know you hate animals.”

Lena closed her locker door and quickly buttoned her cooking coat, clearly in a hurry to vacate the tense atmosphere that hovered around him and Simone. Turning to leave she stopped at the sound of Someone's voice, “Lena.” Simone reached into her locker and grabbed a neatly folded shirt from one of the shelves. With a step forward she smiled and held it out to her. “I believe this is yours. I took the liberty of washing it for you.”

God dammit. He resisted the urge to throw his head back into his locker as he watched Lena offer up a clearly strained smile as she took the shirt. “Thanks.” She handed it to him. “Put that in your locker for me?”

“Sure,” he answered.

“See you after service,” she said with a tiny hint of a real smile - a reassurance that Simone's overstepping gesture hadn't deterred her from whatever this was.

The quiet that settled after her steps faded from the stairwell was short-lived as Simone turned to him, smug and rageful all at once. “Well, how was she?”

Wincing he turned to her, holding up the shirt. “Why are you going through my things?”

"I was just tidying up," she replied with a soft laugh. "We both know what a slob you can be." Her eyes drifted to his locker as he placed Lena's shirt on a shelf. “The shirt was on your counter. I assumed it was hers and figured she'd want it back instead of it going to your trophy box.”

Jake had been angry with Simone many times over the years. The two of them had many ups and downs, but once the dust settled they always found a way to get through whatever it was creating a rift between them. His anger wasn't new, but the tiny sliver of restlessness was. Jake had been angry with Simone before, but never had he felt even a hint of wanting their strange dance to end. Until now.

With a sigh, Jake closed his locker and looked at her. “What did you say to Lena?”

“What-”

“You know what I'm talking about,” he cut off with a firm voice.

Simones's lips pursed, displeased at his tone. “I was just making small talk, Jake. Trying to get along like you wanted.”

“You insinuated our plans were a date to try and freak her out.” Shaking his head he let his anger simmer. “Look, I know it's been hard for you with Lena, but that doesn't mean you can't just be civil. If that's not something you wanna do, fine, then just do what you normally do with girls I start seeing and stay out of it. It's none of your business anyway.”

Finally, the blonde woman laughed. “You are my business. Or have you forgotten all that we went through?”

Jake shook his head. “That’s not fair.”

“I expect you to be selfish and angry Jake, that's who you are. And never once have I asked you to change. Yet here you are, asking me to stop taking care of you as it’s not who I am!” She huffed out a breath and glared at him. “I have sacrificed time and time again for you. You…” Tears built in her eyes. “You're all I have.”

“Simone-”

She held up her hand and placed it on his chest. “I'm sorry if I've caused issues in your personal life, Jake. I am. But, I will never stop looking out for you.”

“I'm not asking you to, I just… Cut Lena some slack. She's not Tess.”

Reluctantly, Simone nodded. The tears in her eyes vanished as she smiled at him. “Alright. If it's that important to you, fine. But, you… You'll still tell me if anything changes between you two, right?”

Jake nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You know I will.”

“Good.” Simone turned, moving to join the chaos outside the locker room. "Oh," she suddenly said, pausing in the doorway. "I spoke to Howard about us taking Thanksgiving off to go home before this little disappearance of his."

Jake's smile fell and his jaw clenched painfully. "I don't-"

Simone sighed, biting back a bitter laugh. "You don't want to go. I know. Please, save me the speech."

“I’m not-”

"You're coming," she interrupted. As always in her mind this was not some request that he could just say no to, not some event he could skip. This was a command, the command that she always gave him and that he always followed. Her eyes softened again. "Please, no more fighting. I need you."

He turned away from her to the mirror to mess with his tie. "Fine, whatever."

"I'll text you later to remind you to pack."

*

The kitchen was a mad dash of bodies in the throws of preparation. The sounds of unsynchronised knives chopping and four conversations being loudly spoken over each other filled my ears as I tried to help in any way I could. Isaac gave me a wide-eyed look as he lifted a finger to slice across his neck in an unspoken “we're fucked” motion. I rolled my eyes at him and turned to help Scott with the sauces.

“Leave it to Howard to fuck us right before the holiday.” Angrily shaking his head and throwing his tasting spoon on the washing bin Scott wiped the sweat from his brows. “Thanks-fucking-giving of all ones.”

“We've got this, Chef,” I assured him. “Preps almost done and we're fully stocked on all the shit we need.”

Nodding his eyes drifted to Will as he slammed through the door, paced for a moment, and then returned to the lobby. “It’s not the kitchen I'm worried about, Red.”

Patting his shoulder I moved around the tables. “I'll go talk to him.”

Scott chuckled or scoffed. “Good luck!”

Will stood next to the hostess station, flipping through the guestbook and mumbling reminders to himself. Jake watched with a very noticeable grin as he prepped the bar. Though outwardly he appeared happy, there was a tenseness in his posture that made me wonder what was really on his mind. The list of possible irritants had grown large over the past few weeks. Still, I chose to lean into the more mirthful side of him. I shot him a look, leaning over to snag his rag. “Be nice!”

“I'm smiling,” he replied with an even wider grin. “That not nice enough for you?”

“You're smiling at someone else's expense.”

Pursing his lips to hide the smile Jake nodded. “No smiling. Got it.”

I tucked the rag into my pocket and rolled my eyes. “Ass.”

“Move Mr and Mrs Wilson to table ten and then move Mr. Kepner and his colleagues to table six,” Will hastily instructed the new hostess who stood beside him practically shaking as she made the notes in the guestbook.

“Will,” I called out, causing him to whip around with the gaze of a madman.

“What’s the problem?”

I set a hand on his arm and offered up a calming smile. “No problem, I just wanted to check up on you.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Sorry, I’m a mess. It’s just with Howard not here everything’s on me and I… I’m still technically in training. I’m not ready to run this place on my own!”

“Breathe,” I instructed. “You’ve got this, Will. Just treat it like any other night. Schmooze the guests, check in on everyone, and help the hostess if we get busy.”

“What if-”

“No, what if’s,” I insisted, straightening his tie. “You’ve got this.”

With a shaky breath, he nodded with me. “I’ve got this.”

I smiled, “Good. Now get to family meal and give us a good pep talk.”

“I can do that,” he whispered. “Yeah, okay, I can do that.”

The table was rowdy and filled with practically every server using the time to grill Will about the specifics of Howard’s sudden disappearance. Sasha filled his mouth with food and loudly proclaimed, “It’s probably syphilis.” 

Heather’s face scrunched up as she turned to Sasha. “Howard doesn’t have syphilis.”

“How do you know?” The Russian taunted.

Ari rolled her eyes. “He’s obviously ditching for the holiday.”

“Howard wouldn’t do that,” Heather defended again.

“He can’t hear you.”

“I know that.”

Sasha swallowed a gulp of wine and smirked. “He’s not going to fuck you either.”

Will finally cut through the noise with a loud clearing of his throat followed by a deep, commanding tone that made Sasha’s eyebrows shoot up. “It doesn’t matter why he’s gone. It changes nothing about our jobs. So, tonight goes like normal alright everyone?”

Sasha quickly saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain Will!”

“You should talk like this all the time,” Ari purred. “It makes you sound so sexy!”

It was going to be a long night.

*

Why am I still bothering with this place? Olivia asked herself as she stood next to the bar and watched the dining room full of people. At first, it’d been a request Jennifer Glover had made to check in on her estranged daughter and it’d been something Olivia had been more than happy to do for her employer. She would do anything for Jennifer. But, then she’d gotten here and actually met this “golden child”, Lena, and her motivations shifted.

It was no secret that Olivia had the desire to win the Glover seal of approval - to prove that she was so much more than just another employee. So, it came as little surprise to her when she’d found herself working closely with Simone to try and expose Lena for what she truly was. Ungrateful. Disrespectful. Unworthy of her mother's love. It started small, too small. She’d wasted so much of her time following Simone’s advice at seducing Jake - a tactic that proved less fruitful and more hurtful than she’d expected. A shove down the stairs and some red hair dye later, though, Olivia had moved on to a more effective tactic.

“Olive,” Jake said. “More whisky.”

She acted like she didn’t hear him, continuing to stand beside the bar and look as bored as she could until Nicky repeated the request. Ignoring them seemed to do more than any of her other attempts. It slowed down service and annoyed them so she considered it a win. As she made her way to the wine cellar she caught Simone’s stare. After the glass incident, they’d stopped speaking. Simone was of the mind that she’d gone too far and was being reckless, but in Olivia’s opinion, Simone lacked the conviction to do what had to be done to see results. That was why she’d been so unsuccessful at severing the bond Lena had crafted with the bartender. And it would be the reason she remained unsuccessful.

In just an hour and a half Olive had managed to drop every plate she touched and slow service down enough that Will finally cut her. As she changed her phone chimed. Wonderful work tonight, dear. You’ll have that rebellious girl of mine fired before the months up. 

That’s why, She told herself with a smile. Jennifer needed her help and so, Olivia would suffer the dull and tedious work. She’d sacrifice her nights and whatever public opinion the workers would form and she’d do it all with a smile. For Jennifer. And for Anthony.

*

“Holy fuck,” Scott sighed stretching out his neck. “That was fucking horrible.”

I watched Santos finish sweeping up the last of the shattered plates and ruined food. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever had to refire seven entrees at once before.”

Scoffing he tossed a rag onto the table. “Stupid bitch was relentless tonight.”

“Well, at least it’s over now.”

“Til tomorrow.” The whole kitchen groaned. “Thanksgiving sucks ass.”

Isaac quickly chimed in, “No, no, no! Working on Thanksgiving sucks ass!”

Rags flew through the air as the whole kitchen booed him up the stairs. I followed the rowdy kitchen crew to the locker room and changed as the servers quickly joined us with equal complaints about their last tables. Jake followed soon after with Simone, the sliver of tenseness I’d noticed earlier now far more prominent not just in his posture but also in his face. Closing my locker, I chose to follow the majority of the cooks downstairs rather than wait for Simone to vacate his side. If he wanted to talk to me about it, he would later.

Nicky made my drink and slid it towards me, waiting until Jake returned from changing to go upstairs to change himself. Simone sat down by the edge of the bar, watching Jake pour her a glass of wine with a pleased smile and a quiet thanks. She sent me a chilled smile as she lifted the glass to her nose to inhale the scent. Whatever had Jake stressed had something to do with her, and that simple fact made my chest burn.

“Great service tonight you guys,” Will announced with a relieved smile.

Scott took a long drag of his cigarette. “Yeah, the seven refires was real fun.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Seriously guys, if we can just get through to tomorrow then we’ll be set until Howard gets back.”

Sasha raised his glass with a playful smirk. “Cheers to the ever-inspiring words of encouragement from our sweet Will! This will certainly be more than enough to get us through the coming hellish turkey day!”

"Speaking of the holiday," I started after the cheering and laughter had died down, "What are all of you guys doing?"

Heather blew out a puff of smoke. "I'm going to visit my family."

Scott nodded. "Same."

Nicky grinned, "I get to have dinner with the inlaws!" Oohs and ahhs echoed through the group. "Thrilling, I know."

"I am going to spend the night in my apartment, masturbating!" Sasha proclaimed with a wicked but sad grin.

Ari just rolled her eyes, but she eventually smiled. "I have a date with my crazy hot girlfriend."

"Nana's?" I asked.

"Yeah. Are you going too?"

I nodded, sliding my empty glass to Jake. "Oh, everyone is. It's Nana's favorite holiday. She loves getting the whole family together for dinner." 

Turning my head and opening my mouth to give Jake an official invite to my family's celebration, I wasn't able to make a sound before Simone cut in. "Jake and I are spending the holiday in Cape Cod with my family."

Anyone looking at Jake could see the sheer dread that followed the statement, but only I could see just how deep it went. His jaw clenched painfully tight, and the steady movements of his hands faltered. Those mischievous blue eyes filled with despair, anger, and fear in seconds. He didn't want to go. He really didn't want to fucking go. But he would because of Simone.

My anger burned hotter in my chest as I forced myself to smile and nod. "Well anyone that wants to come to Nana's is more than welcome to! She always has plenty of food."

The conversation progressed as it usually did, Sasha teased, Ari laughed, Heather flirted with the cook she was casually seeing and all seemed well. Simone set her glass on the bartop and put her coat on. “Goodnight everyone. Jake, try not to be late tomorrow and please pack this time.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he replied flippantly, not even turning to look at her.

She smiled again, disgustingly pleased at his defeated tone. Fucking bitch. As her dumb blonde head vanished out the door I shifted my focus back to the tight-faced bartender who avoided eye contact with everyone around him, me included. All my lingering thoughts and anxieties about the conversations we still needed to have and the things that had clearly changed between us faded away. Now all that mattered was finding a way to help him.

Scott slid his glass towards Jake. “We’re going for food, you in?”

“Sure,” he replied, turning to leave. “You guys go ahead. I’ve gotta grab my jacket.”

Ari rubbed my back. “Coming, Tiger?”

I stood up, following after Jake. “Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Of course, they need a quick fuck to work up their appetites,” Sasha teased, effectively dodging Heather’s slap. “What? We’re all thinking it?”

Upstairs Jake stared into his locker, holding his jacket in a tight grip, his back heaving up and down. It’d been a long time since I’d seen him like this. How dare she put him through this. “So…” I carefully broached. “You're going to The Cape?”

Jake sighed, restless and angry as he shoved his arms into the sleeves. “Looks that way.”

“Fuck The Cape.” I set a hand on his arm, luring his eyes to mine. “Fuck all of it unless it's what you want.”

“Simone-”

Fuck her too, I almost said. “Isn't you. What do you want?”

His jaw clenched as he shook his head and stretched his neck in that nervous way he did. “I… I don't know.”

Tugging on his arm I nodded to the door. “Come on.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jake sighed, still following me anyway.

“We’re not going to eat.”

“Then where are we-”

“No more questions,” I replied, pulling him out into the cold. “Just trust me.”

We walked in silence most of the way to the theater, but the second Jake saw the lights and the movie posters he seemed to stop resisting so much. As I looked up at him the weight in his eyes and shoulders seemed to lax. “What are we seeing?”

I shrugged, “No clue.”

The only two tickets they had left were for another horror movie, which I’d quickly declined, and some new romantic comedy that didn’t sound like something either of us would particularly enjoy. Jake didn’t seem to care though, and I assumed it was something that really didn’t matter to him. A distraction was a distraction, and that’s all he wanted right now. So, I grabbed the popcorn, he grabbed the drinks and we both found seats in the surprisingly full theater. It wasn’t quite the same as last time. Jake’s tension proved to be more difficult to ease than mine had, but I reached over and took hold of his hand and he accepted the small gesture. Squeezing my hand in his as he watched the screen in front of us with mild interest, I knew he was grateful for my small attempt to take his mind off Simone and The Cape and Thanksgiving and everything his mind refused to let him forget. 

After the movie had ended, we lingered in the alley next to the theater, sharing a cigarette. Fuck The Cape, I wanted to remind him again. Fuck that place that made us so miserable, I wanted to scream at him. Stay. Instead of pressuring him even more to defy the will of Simone I simply asked, “Did that help at all?”

“Kinda,” he replied. “This is just… complicated.”

“I understand.” Leaning back against the wall beside him I sighed, “Do you know what you’re gonna do yet?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I set my head against his arm. “No one’s going to blame you for going home, Jake.”

"Home is the past," he said, voice soft. He was angry and bitter as he stared ahead at the alley wall opposite us, but this tone was something new. Something that sounded like the voice of a lost boy, one desperate to break away from all that had hurt him while also trying not to disappoint those he'd deemed important.

Lifting my head I touched his cheek, gently letting my fingers smooth over his skin. "Home might be the past, but you can't run from that. You can't go back and change how things were. Ignore it... Try to forget it… It's only going to come back stronger, angrier." His eyes softened as he looked at me. "Home is the past, but it's a past you'll need to face eventually." I sighed. "One we'll both have to face.”

Jake turned, looking down at me with a newfound brightness in his eyes. He breathed the last of the smoke out of his lungs and tossed the cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it beneath his foot. “Let’s go get drunk.”

“Yeah?” I asked, smiling at him. “You think that’ll help?”

“Can’t hurt to try,” he said, bumping into me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”

Rolling my eyes I pressed myself into his body, a light, teasing laugh bubbling up out of my chest. “Like this?”

He hummed, hands sliding up my back and squeezing my sides. “Yeah, like that.”

“Come on then,” I urged, leaning away from him. “Let’s go get hammered.”

Jake's fingers laced between mine, the warmth of his palm filling my own as we walked hand in hand toward Ozzy's. To the passersby, we probably looked like just another dumb-in-love couple and I was okay with that. I was happy with the thought and hopeful that it meant there was a chance for this… for us.

The group was already gathered around the bar when we arrived. As we got closer a familiar head of blonde hair and plain clothes that hid a well-toned body appeared in the center of our friends. Sam made jokes that everyone laughed at, showing off the charming personality that made everyone around him fall head over heels.

Quinn, who was already plastered, spotted us and quickly waved. “Look who decided to show up!”

Sam spread his arms out and smiled sheepishly. "You said you'd buy me a drink if I ditched the uniform."

"I did," I replied, moving from Jake's side to slide behind the bar. "What'll it be, just Sam?"

“Just beer,” he answered.

Chuckling at the memories of the way his face always scrunched up in disgust at every other drink he tried, I grabbed him a bottle. “Shoulda known. You never did enjoy anything else.”

Sam sat down across from me and shrugged. “Not for lack of trying. I think you made me every drink you knew.”

“Course she did,” Quinn said with a grin. “She liiikkkeeedd you!”

We both rolled our eyes at her, Sam’s face a little more red than before as he quietly sipped his beer. I lifted my head and found Jake standing a few feet away from the bar, the relaxation and playfulness I’d managed to pull out of him gone as he glared at the back of Sam’s head. With an easy smile, one meant to hopefully bring back what we’d spend hours in a shitty movie trying to reach, I nodded him over. “What’s your drink tonight, tough guy? I believe you were wanting to get wasted.”

He finally moved, standing at least a seat away from Sam and leaning against the bar. “Dealer’s choice.”

“Dangerous game,” I cautioned. “Giving a delinquent like me free reign over your drink.”

The smile was microscopic, but I still saw it. “I live for the thrill.”

“Alright, one mystery drink coming up.”

Quinn had slid between the dark-haired bartender and the light-haired cop, an evil grin plastered to her face as she regarded them both. “So, how’s life been treating you, Sam?”

Sam gulped. “Can’t complain.”

“I mean you could,” she urged. “I won’t tell a soul that the golden boy had a few tiffs with life.”

“I’m good, Quinny,” he insisted. “But thanks for asking.”

She turned to Jake, pinching his cheek. “And how's our resident grump?”

He slapped her hand away and glared at her. “Great.”

“Yikes! You seem extra grumpy tonight!” She giggled. “There a new stick up your ass or something?” Without a word, Jake pushed away from the bar and headed toward our usual booth. Quinn feigned a look of shock. “You think it was something I said?”

“Could you just not be a bitch for like two minutes?” I asked, shaking my head as I finished Jake and I’s drinks.

Quinn hummed. “I probably could, but it sounds pretty boring, so I’ll pass!”

Ari pulled on her arm, dragging her out of her seat and toward the dancing crowd. “Come on! I love this song!”

Will and Prue walked into the bar together, sitting down beside Sam. While Prue greeted the off-duty cop, Will set his head on the bar and sighed. “It was a pretty long night tonight, huh?”

“With Howard gone… yeah,” he answered.

“I’ll make you something strong,” I offered, getting Prue’s attention before asking, “Want anything to drink?”

“No, I’m on Will duty.” She looked over at him and gently rubbed his back. “He’s having a rough week.”

The second I touched a glass Ozzy’s loud voice boomed over the bar. “Oi! You ain’t on bar duty tonight!”

I glanced at him with an innocent smile. “I’m just helping out Oz.”

“Not tonight you’re not!” He gestured to the two bartenders already working. “I’ve got two boys back here, let em get some work in will ya? Shoo!”

“Oz-”

“Shoo!” He repeated, ushering me out from behind the bar with a shake of his head. “Go have fun. Take a load off for once, love.”

“Alright, alright!” I reached over and grabbed Jake and my drinks. “Bossy much?”

The big man scoffed and pointed at me with that fatherly smirk of his. “I shouldn’t have to be bossin you to take some time to yourself.”

Dodging the crowd I made my way to the booth where Jake sulked by himself. Patrick, who’d spent all of two seconds by the table, gave me a look and mouthed He’s grumpy on his way past me. I set the drink in front of Jake. “One Mexican Firing Squad.” He gave me a look, one that I quickly shot down with a pointed reply, “You gave me creative freedom. This is on you.”

“Right. Next time remind me not to let you pick the drinks.”

“Scooch.” He sipped on his drink, refusing the move that rigid body of his as an act of defiance. Using the empty side of the booth I slid around to sit beside him and took a victorious drink of my cocktail. I let the tense silence roll over me for a minute before finally choosing to say something. “Quinn's got a point, you do seem extra grumpy all of a sudden.” Nudging his arm I asked, “What sticks up your ass now?”

Jake scoffed and quickly downed his drink, showcasing little regret afterward. “I'm just peachy.”

I gave him a look. “Come on, Jake.”

“Don't worry about it, Princess.” His eyes shifted to Sam, who’d joined my brothers at another table, and his face scrunched lightly in clear displeasure. “I'm fine.”

“Ahh,” I hummed in realization. A funny, prideful feeling made my chest feel warmer. “So it's not a stick up your ass, it's a baton.” Jake didn't bother replying. I sat back in the booth and looked down at my fingers. “Are you jealous of Sam?”

That got him talking. “I'm not jealous of some uptight asshole cop.”

Hiding my smirk behind my glass I shrugged. “Sam's hardly an asshole and he's not very uptight.”

“Well, you'd know, wouldn't you?”

“Yeah, I would.” Tilting my head to meet his eyes I quietly asked, “Is that a problem?”

With a sigh Jake shook his head, finally allowing himself to relax. “No. It's just… He's clearly still into you and…”

“And that makes you feel… Weird, given everything that's happened between us,” I finished.

“Yeah.” He looked at me, eyes finally softening. “I'm sorry if I'm being an ass.”

Smiling wide enough to reassure him I lifted a hand to stroke his cheek. “You're almost always an ass in some way. Guess I'm getting used to it.”

With a quiet laugh, he smiled. “Good to know.” Standing he grabbed both our glasses. “I'll get us refills.”

“Jake.” I stopped him with a hand on his arm. He turned and I lifted myself out of the seat to press my lips to his. His body leaned into mine, lips moving in harmony with my own without hesitation. When we pulled away from each other I smiled again, slightly nervous to voice the reassuring words that clung to my throat. “Whatever this is… You have my full attention.”

Though he chuckled, I could see that he felt better after I said it. “Do I?”

I settled back in my seat, cheeks red and chest warm and fuzzy. “Yep. Try not to let it go to your head.”

“Too late, Princess,” he announced. “You've got my ego all inflated now.”

“Damn,” I joked. “Guess I'll have to be meaner to you.”

“Lookin’ forward to it,” he replied with a wink as he turned and headed to the bar.

My face felt hotter as I stared down into my lap. I could only imagine just how red I looked and I was glad Quinn was too busy with Ari to make fun of me. It was just so easy with Jake. The warmth and the fuzziness that came with something new and exciting was now a persistent feeling. Every moment I spent with him I felt so… Happy. It was sickening. Then there was the unknown but very obvious feeling that made me want to hop onto his lap - as I had so many times before - take that pretty face in my hands and tell him he was mine.

Something glittering in the dancing crowd caught my eye, drawing attention to the familiar entourage of finely dressed men and one woman covered in expensive jewels and an easy smile. Mav. Fucking hell. I jumped out of the booth and made my way through the crowd as quickly and as gently as I could, trying to reach the bar and give everyone a warning before…

Mav's men hung back as she settled in beside Jake. Ozzy offered her a kind if not slightly tense greeting, “Mav, didn't expect to see you here tonight.”

“I was in the neighborhood,” she replied in that sultry voice of hers as her rich amber eyes drifted to Jake. “So, this is him then? Your girls Jake?”

The two bartenders exchanged a look before Ozzy cleared his throat. “What can I get ya?”

Mav ignored him, lifting her finger to trace Jake's jaw as she grinned. "Oh he is cute, isn't he?"

I hurried forward with a loud proclamation, “MAV!” From across the room, Dom’s head shot up and he was on his feet in seconds. I tried to subtly place my body between hers and Jake's. It wasn’t so subtle, judging by the way she chuckled at me. “Long time no see. How's business?”

“Oh, you know how it goes. Money, drugs, sex, booze, bar fights, the occasional murder,” she replied with a casual shrug as she turned her head to take a sip of the drink Oz had offered up. “I can't complain.”

“Sounds fun.”

“You're more than welcome to tag along one of these days.” Mav grinned over my shoulder at Jake. “I'll even let you bring your boy toy.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Thanks but no thanks. I'm not really doing that kinda stuff anymore.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That's not what I heard.” Sliding her finger along the rim of her glass she chuckled. “You and Eddie paid one of my boys a visit not too long ago.”

“We did.”

“Fucked him up pretty bad.” Her voice was soft as silk as she smiled, baring her teeth. “I was impressed. You always did know just how to leave men a whimpering and sniffling shell.” 

“Mav I-”

She shushed me and with a long nail, she fixed my hair. “You get things done, Lena. I’ve always respected that.”

The only thing you could count on when it came to Mav was her unpredictability. And while I was confident that Mav liked me enough not to slit my throat I still chose to tread cautiously. “Do you know why I did it?”

“No. And I don't care. That boy…” She turned toward her men, her chestnut hair falling over her shoulder. “What's his name again?”

“Aaron.”

“Right,” she laughed. “Aaron. He was a huge fuck up. Wasted more of my time and money than any of my husbands. You did me a favor putting him in his place. So I came to extend my gratitude.”

Dom made his way through the crowd, eyeing her men for a minute before he stood there, staring at Mav's back. The soft look in his eyes held all the history between them. “That's awfully generous of you.”

Mav turned toward the sound of his voice, a real smile settling on her lips. “Well, well, if it isn't the junkyard king himself.” 

They looked each other up and down for a long moment. Jake leaned over my shoulder. “So… What's going on here?”

“I'll tell you later,” I whispered back.

“Mavis,” Dom said, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips.

“Dominic,” she replied, watching with gleeful delight as he kissed her hand. “Always such a gentleman.”

With a shrug, the biker straightened his back. “If I were a gentleman I'd be buried next to your other husbands.”

“True,” she admitted with a laugh.

“So,” Dom started. “Is it business or pleasure tonight?”

“Business,” Mav said. “Always business.”

With a nod he settled in at the end of the bar, casually leaning on it as he watched her. “I'm all ears.”

“My business isn't with you.” Mav turned back towards me and extended one of her signature platinum cards to me.

“Mav I can't-”

She shushed me. “Take it, dear. As a thank you for fixing a problem for me.”

“I don't need your money.”

“Nonsense!” She insisted, waving me off. “Money offers people like us a lot of freedoms. Why do you think I got rid of those pesky husbands so quickly?”

"Haven't killed all your husbands," Dom said with a fond grin.

Mav returned the look, though it was harder to see in her. "There's still time."

“This is too much.”

“Lena,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Take the money. Have some fun. Buy your boy something special.” Winking at Jake over my shoulder she set the card on the bar next to me. “You've more than earned it.”

“Thank you, Mav.”

Standing she turned to Dom and jabbed his chest with her finger. “And you. Tell that moronic brother of yours to stay off my turf.”

Dom leaned down, pressing their bodies closer together. “Whatever you say, darling.”

“I mean it. Next time Eddie shows up uninvited he's going to lose some limbs.”

“Call if you need help chopping,” he replied with a laugh. “I'd love to get a few licks in.”

“Idiots, both of you.”

Dom watched her go with a look that made me feel squeamish. I grabbed the card and turned back to Jake and the others who'd gathered at the bar behind him. “Looks like drinks are on me for the next few months.”

Quinn clapped loudly, urging the group to cheer. Sasha lifted his glass and loudly yelled, “TIGER BITCH!”

“Tiger Bitch!” Everyone joined in.

Ozzy took the card and shook his head. “I disapprove of your involvement.”

“Buuuttt…”

“I'm not going to turn down Mav's money.” He tucked the card away. “I'm no fool.”

Jake leaned on the bar next to me with a curious grin. “So, what's the story there?”

“Mav is Dom's ex-wife.” Glancing over at the biker I shook my head before loudly announcing, “And there's clearly some lingering sexual tension.”

He glared at me. Nodding toward Jake he answered, “You sure you wanna go there, kid?”

Holding my hands up in defeat I shook my head. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought.”

Turning back to Jake I shrugged. “She's relentless and kind of terrifying, but she likes me so it's alright.”

He laughed and accepted another drink from Oz. “You and your gangsters. So, how much money was on that card?”

“At least ten grand.”

Jake spit his drink out and coughed. “Are you serious?”

Nodding, I smirked. “Me and my gangsters.”

Oz tossed him a bar rag. “Oi, clean that up.”

“Sorry Oz,” he replied, wiping up his mess.

Sam set his empty bottle on the bar and thanked Ozzy when he took it. “Sooo, I just ran into Mav on her way out. You, uh, spending time with her again?”

I shook my head. “No, I just…” As I looked up into his eyes I could see the cringe settle on his face. He was begging me not to say something incriminating, so I chuckled and finished with, “Walked her dog.”

The cop in him saw straight through the lie, but the friend in him just laughed. “That’s what you’re sticking with?”

“She has three big dogs,” I argued. “I could have walked one!”

“When have you ever walked her dogs?”

My mouth hung open as my brain desperately tried to conjure up any instance where I’d done more than pet her dogs. “When… She… I… Shut up!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jake grab another drink and down it just as quickly as he had the first. Maybe getting drunk wasn’t the best idea to encourage. Before I could offer him any kind of reassurance Patrick hollered from their table, “Jake!”

The second he moved from my side I sighed, watching him sit down beside my brothers and talk. Sam glanced that way and smiled. “It’s nice to see those two haven’t lost their tendency to adopt your… friends.”

“Yeah. They always seem to find the guys I bring home so interesting.”

“In their defense. You do have an interesting taste in men.” He gestured to himself, wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean just look at me! Suburban good boy with the dream to become a cop!”

I laughed. “You are very interesting, Sammy.”

“And handsome,” he added.

“That too.”

Sam’s eyes returned to that table. “So… It seems like Jake makes you happy. I’m glad you found him.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Me too.”

All at once the memories of Sam and I came flooding my brain. We’d had a lot of good times, a lot of passion, and more vulnerability than I’d ever been able to muster up at the time. On paper, Sam was everything I could have wanted. Good, kind, gentle, strong, smart and funny. My dads and brothers and friends all loved him. It should have worked. Should have, but didn’t. And it didn’t because of me. After a long, still silence, I quietly admitted, "I've been thinking about a lot of stuff recently. About that fight we had."

Sam shook his head, his smile only faltering a little. "Don't, Lena."

I looked at him long and hard, the man who could've given me everything I'd wanted at the time. "I'm sorry for being so horrible to you."

"You were hardly horrible, Lee."

"I was a bitch."

With a sigh, he turned fully toward me. "Do you remember what I said to you?"

"You wanted to know why-"

"After that."

My jaw clenched as I nodded. "I do."

"Then I guess I don't." The words burnt me from the inside out, venomous and ugly… A reflection of myself.

Sam looked sad… Heartbroken maybe, but he still smiled at me. "That's okay."

Liar, I'd wanted to say. But, Sam just sighed and stepped closer. "It's okay if you don't love me back, Lee. It's okay if you don't want this to be anything more than some fun casual thing. I just… I wanted us to be on the same page so I don't go sayin something stupid again and making you upset."

"Get out."

"Lena-"

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stepped away from him. Hideous emotions spurring life inside my chest. Angry wounds urging me to hit him, to scream at him and destroy everything we ever had. A monster lurking over my shoulder with a taunting whisper, "I'm the only one that could ever love you."

"Get out," I repeated. "Please, Sam."

Sam's reassuring hand on my own pulled me from that dark memory. "I love you, Lena."

My throat felt tight as I stared up at him, longing to return the words but unable to. "I know."

"I love you," he repeated with a smile. "In whatever way you need me to."

"I'm sorry." Sorry, I can't say it back. Sorry, I couldn't keep myself from hurting you. "For all of it."

His smile was blinding as he squeezed my hand. "I'm not. So it didn't work out in the end, big deal. We still had some fun, didn't we?"

I smiled too, the fond memories of Sam gently soothing the heavy weight in my chest. "Yeah, we did."

"And, we turned out to be pretty good friends, right?"

"Perfect friends."

Clearing his throat, Sam checked his watch. “Well, I’ve got to go. I’m working tomorrow morning.”

Before I could talk myself out of it, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

He squeezed me tight and chuckled. “I won’t be. I’ll just remember to leave the uniform at home.”

“Good idea. Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, Lee.” He stood and waved at everyone else. “See you around.”

“See you around, Sammy.”

*

Jake had vacated the Harrow brothers’ table shortly after they’d waved him over for Patrick’s rundown of his schedule after Thanksgiving. “You’ll need to get in some solid reps after having Nana’s food,” Patrick had said with a loud laugh. 

The fact that he’d just assumed, expected, Jake to be attending their family celebrations only made Simone’s plans for him sting worse. He wanted to go to Nana’s - wanted to spend the day surrounded by the loud Harrow gang’s chaos. He wanted to leave full and happy, smelling like meat and curry. There was nothing Jake wanted more in the world than to spend just one holiday in a place where he felt he belonged. 

He’d excused himself and walked outside to the front of Ozzy’s bar, just breathing in the fresh air and wallowing in his self-pity. How many years had it been that he’d followed Simone back to the fucking Cape every holiday? How many years had Jake spent miserable and stuck so far in the past that he felt like he was drowning? 

“Home is the past.” He still remembered the night Tess had said those words to him. At the time it wasn’t about her saying them, it was the feeling he felt hearing it. Jake had kissed her that night and had made plans with her that deep down he knew he wouldn't be able to keep but all of that had been less about Tess and more about those four simple words.  Home is the past. 

"Home is the past, but it's a past you'll need to face eventually. One we'll both have to face.” Lena was right. He’d spent every year getting dragged back, every single year for as long as he could remember, running from The Cape… home… until that word held nothing but dread and anger and pain.

Home, he thought to himself, letting his eyes drift closed - letting the word sit in his mind for a moment. Home. It wasn’t Cape Cod his brain associated with the thought of a home. It wasn’t Simone or the restaurant or even his apartment. It was red hair glowing in the setting sun, loud laughter, and a crinkling freckled nose. It was soft touches, dancing, making drinks. It was late-night walks, kisses on the Ferris wheel, and that addictive tightness in his gut that made everything in him feel more alive every second he spent by her side. Home was waking up to Lena’s green eyes and her tired smile. Home was her.

Whatever this was between them, this unnamed thing, this thing they both seemed so afraid of… it was everything. Jake opened his eyes and the name for it was right there, sitting in his mind like Hemingway curled up on one of his chairs. This was something he never thought it could be, yet the one thing that now seemed so obvious.

Forcing himself to let the word go, Jake turned back to the door and walked down the steps into the bar. Lena had hopped back behind the bar, helping serve drinks as Ozzy shook his head from the office door, insisting that she go have fun. He could practically hear her sassy, “This is fun” from there. The blonde cop carefully made his way out of the crowd of people and smiled at him, stopping to wave. “Hey, Jake. You heading out?”

“No,” he answered. “Just needed some air.”

He nodded and turned to look back at the bar. “I get that. Bars aren’t really my scene either.”

Course they aren’t, he thought to himself. A goody two shoes like Officer Mayfield wouldn’t find bars appealing. He didn’t harbor the same sadness or anger that most people did. He didn’t really get the reason why bars like this were so popular and it made Jake feel like he did around Will. Inadequate. Pathetic. Broken.

"You're lucky," Sam said after a moment of stiff silence.

Jake bit back a bitter laugh. "Am I?"

The officer nodded, eyes never leaving the bar. "She's incredible."

His eyes shifted, following the blondes until Lena filled his vision again. "Yeah, she is."

Once again the man beside him smiled. "She's different with you… Open and happy. You're lucky, not a lot of people get to see that side of her."

Lucky. It was one of Jake's least favorite words. After all that had happened to him, all he'd been forced to find a way to survive luck was just another thing he never had. Yet, standing in the booming bar, surrounded by friends, he had to agree with Officer Mayfield. Lena met his gaze and smiled, pouring a drink as she winked at him. He was lucky. Maybe for the first time in his life.

Sam gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Don't fuck it up. There isn't another girl out there like her, trust me."

Against his better judgment Jake nodded, "If there is, I'm sure you'll find her."

"Thanks," Sam replied. "See you around, Jake."

"See you around, Officer Mayfield."

"Please," the man said with a chuckle. "Call me Sam."

“Alright… Sam.”

After a few more drinks and a few more hours of listening to rowdy bar conversations, while being completely distracted by Lena, the night was over. Quinn and Ari went back to her hotel, Prue and Will went back to his apartment and everyone else slowly filtered out until it was just him and the Harrows. Lena rested her head on the top of the bar, lazily sloshing the remainder of her drink around in her glass with a tired look in her eyes. Patrick helped Ozzy close the bar down while Peter closed the bar down and Oz handled some paperwork. 

It was organized, methodical, and something he found peaceful. Lena looked at him and smiled. “Well, did drinking make you feel better?”

He shrugged. “Neither of us got nearly fucked up enough. You didn’t even drunkenly grope me.”

Clicking her tongue she lightly tapped him with her foot. “There, consider yourself groped.”

Patrick made a face. “Could you two please wait until I’m out of earshot to do that?”

“Well,” Lena said, choosing to ignore her brother. “You’re welcome to stay with us tonight.”

“I should go back to my place,” Jake admitted. “I gotta feed the cat or he’ll tear my sheets to shreds.”

“That would be a shame. Your sheets are amazing.” She sat up, stretching her limbs for a second before finding her footing. “I’ll walk you out.”

Jake followed her, giving the rest of them a short farewell before they stepped out into the cold night. Lena shivered and without a second thought, Jake slid off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He watched, smiling like an idiot, as she did a little dance and happily shoved her arms through the openings. 

They walked up the road a few feet before stopping. Everything he realized, everything he felt, pulsed through him like an ocean current as he looked at her yet he couldn’t bring himself to voice any of them. Luckily, Lena seemed to have found some courage in one of the glasses she’d drank that night. “So, I… I know we have a lot to discuss about…” She awkwardly gestured between them. “Us. And I know that with everything going on, there hasn’t really been a good time to… you know, talk.”

“We don’t have to do this right now.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I just… I guess I want you to know that I meant it.”

Jake tilted his head slightly, a subconscious movement to cover up the way his heart stuttered. “Meant what?”

She stepped closer and smiled, her green eyes sparkled beneath the city lights. “You have my full attention, Jake. I… I don’t know what this is or what we’re doing but… I like it. I like you.” Lena slowly lifted herself up to press her lips to his just like she had in the bar. And just like that, everything else didn’t matter. Once she pulled away a blush settled on her cheeks.  “So, yeah… I just wanted you to know that.”

For the first time that night, Jake truly smiled. His hands cupped her cheeks and he kissed her again. “You’ve got my full attention too, Princess.”

“Give Hemingway a hug for me,” she said, alcohol-ridden breath fanning across his lips. He opened his mouth to tease her about calling him by the name she insisted didn’t fit, but Lena quickly slapped his arm. “Don’t say it!”

“Alright,” he said smugly. “I’ll save it for later.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight, Lena.”

That night, with Hemingway curled up by his feet Jake stared at his empty suitcase and the text message Simone had sent him about the time she wanted him to be at her apartment for their trip. He didn’t want to go to Cape Cod. He wanted to go to dinner with Lena’s family, to laugh and joke and eat until he couldn’t move. Jake wanted to stay home. And he would. This time he’d stay.

*

Thanksgiving morning was always interesting at the Harrow house. When our dad was alive he’d spend all day in the kitchen prepping his famous turkey for the journey to Nana’s diner. In the years that followed his death, Peter had taken his place, spending hours upon hours slow-cooking the damn bird. The first year it was blackened and completely inedible. The years that followed he got progressively better until he was unable to cook at all due to his cancer. Nana and Abdul covered the turkey for a while, but now Pete was back and he was determined to perfect the bird this year.

So, I woke to the smell of cooking meat and the blaring of Pat’s music. I ate breakfast with my brothers and gave Peter some tips for his bird and then I was off to work. Scott had asked that all the kitchen crew show up early so we could get ahead of the night before it took any turns for the worst. Will had made a similar request, one everyone had scoffed at and would likely ignore.

The walk that morning was peaceful. Stores put up their black Friday signs and everyone on the streets had a nicer demeanor than they usually did, a phenomenon that was strictly reserved for the holidays and even then this was still New York City. 22West had decorated the stairs with a garland of fall leaves and the door with a wreath, but other than that it remained the same at Aunt Maddie’s insistence no doubt.

My heart dropped into my stomach as I walked through the front door and saw just Nicky behind the bar greeting me with a smile. “Morning, Red.”

“Morning,” I answered, just as another man, older and definitely not my grumpy bartender, returned from the kitchen with a pallet of glasses. Finding the strength to move my feet and smile through the hellish pain that now stabbed my chest I extended a hand to the unknown face I said, “I don't think we've met before.”

The man shook my hand with a relieved chuckle, “Names Sam. I'm the one they call when they run outta options.”

“I'm sure they call you because you're good at your job, Sam. I'm Lena.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You look familiar.”

“We've probably seen each other in passing at some point,” I replied. “I’ve been around for a while.”

“You're Maddie's niece!” Snapping his fingers he laughed. “Oh, last time I saw you, you were only ye big.” He lifted a hand to his stomach, showcasing the size he spoke of.

Awkwardly laughing I shrugged. “Sounds like me. Well, it was nice meeting you, or seeing you again I guess.”

The old man Sam chuckled and returned to his work. “You too.”

Scott was barking orders when I entered the kitchen and headed for the stairs. The locker room was uncharacteristically quiet as I changed. No Sasha to make his crude jokes, no Ari to laugh at them, no Heather to chide them both… No Jake to make me feel warm and fuzzy. I bitterly swallowed a lump in my throat as I found myself wanting to cry. Pull it together, Lena. This was his decision, I reminded myself. It was his choice. And then, the steady thoughts shifted to the truth of what I felt. But he didn’t choose me. My fingers deftly buttoned up my chef's coat as I shook my head. Nope. We’re not doing that. I wouldn’t let myself resent his choice to go with Simone. I wouldn’t let myself turn into her, not even for one fraction of a second.

Closing my locker I headed downstairs and jumped into work, burying myself in it. Burying everything I felt, everything I wanted to feel beneath the sauces and spices and chopping of meat and vegetables. Nothing else mattered, nothing but the food in front of me. And for a while that worked. Then, service started and everything went to shit.

Sasha barreled through the kitchen doors and set his plate down on the table with a loud clack. “Table fourteen says this is overcooked.”

“Like hell it is!” Scott argued, rushing over to inspect it. “God damn rich assholes. Refire on fourteen.”

Heather followed after, setting down two soups. “Table five says the soups are cold.”

A vein in Scott’s neck looked seconds away from bursting. “Who are they, fuckin Neely? Refire two soups!”

Ari came in hot on Heather’s heels. “Table twelve wants two more entrees.”

Scott wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed. “Fucking Thanksgiving.”

“Lena!” Will hollered, rushing up from the wine cellar. “We’re getting fucked out there, would you please hop on and help us?”

I glanced at Scott, who reluctantly nodded, and stripped myself of my coat. “Sure thing, boss.”

From that point on whatever needed done, I was on top of it. Bar restocks, serving, scouring the wine cellar, dishes, all of it was my wheelhouse tonight. And again, for a while that worked. It took my mind off of Jake and Simone and the fucking Cape. It took my mind off of everything else because all that mattered at the moment was the work. And then, just like before, it all went to shit.

I helped Santos scrub the last of the dishes before Ari tapped my shoulder and gave me a weird look. “Uh, table four is requesting you.”

“What?”

She gulped. “It’s… It’s your mom.”

Fuck. I sighed and dried my hands off. “Of course it is.”

Sure enough, there she was, sitting in the center of the lobby with a gleaming smile on her face. I straightened my shoulders and walked out toward her with a blank expression. She wasn’t gonna fucking win. Not tonight. Not if I could help it. “Good afternoon, maam. What can I get for you tonight?”

Jennifer laughed. “Come now, darling. I think we can drop the formalities.”

“Fine. Tell me what the fastest way to get you out of here is.”

“I’ll have the special and a bottle of your finest red. After that, a conversation.” She grinned again. “Quite reasonable, isn’t it?”

I turned on my heel and took her order to the kitchen before spending far too long in the cellar, picking out the shittiest wine I could find before returning to her table. She sent the food back, of course, and spilled her wine and made the night an absolute horror. While all the other guests began to funnel out, Jennifer remained until I finally snapped. “What do you fucking want?”

“Some appreciation,” she bit back. “For once in your goddamn life, could you just be grateful for all that I’ve done for you?”

Though it didn’t make the situation easier, it certainly made me feel better to laugh in her face. “You didn’t give me shit.”

"I made you strong," she said with a proud raise of her head.

"No, you didn't," I replied coldly. "You almost destroyed me. You gave me nightmares. You made me feel so inferior I got addicted to drugs trying to earn your love. You sold me… groomed me to be his. He may have been the one that almost killed me, but you were the one that pulled the strings and I hate you for it." Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I held her stare. "I hate you. I will always hate you. No matter how many times you show up and insert yourself into my life that will never fucking change."

Jennifer sneered, “I am your mother.”

Shaking my head I replied, “No. My mother was a teacher and a painter. She took care of me, taught me, protected me more than you ever did.” Her lips thinned as she glared at me, clearly displeased I'd brought up Rada. “My mother died trying to protect me. She's gone and still, I love her more than I've ever loved you.”

“You ungrateful little-”

I set the check on her table. “Pay and get the fuck out.”

As I walked away I could hear her huffing and puffing, but in the end I’d won. By the time I’d come back she was gone. Closing everything down for the night took longer than usual, but once we’d all finished and changed we parted ways with relieved smiles. Sasha and Ari walked with me to Nana’s. It was a beautiful sight, her large window painted with a big cartoon turkey and my family inside setting the huge line of tables they’d pulled together to make enough room. As much as I felt relieved, happy, that I was here with them I couldn’t quite shake the anger and the hurt that Jennifer’s visit had brought me. She served as a reminder of those three years I spent away from my family, and I fucking hated it. 

“How was work?” Abdul asked from behind the counter as we all funneled in.

I reached over the counter and grabbed one of the beers from the cooler, popping it open and practically chugging it before answering with a hoarse, “Just great.”

Nodding he gestured to the back. “I'll grab the tequila.”

“Thanks, Pop Pop.”

“There you all are!” Nana cheered, greeting us with hugs and kisses as she searched the crowd with her eyes. “Happy Thanksgiving my dears!”

Sasha and Ari spared me a look as I took another swig of my drink. They quickly began mumbling thank yous and holiday wishes. “Yep, Happy Thanks-fucking-giving.”

She frowned, swatting my arm with one of her magazines. “Language, Lena!”

“Sorry,” I said, hoping the word would somehow help alleviate how shitty I felt about my mothers’ appearance tonight, and about how I knew that Jake was miserable.

Nana sighed and stroked my cheek. “Smile, Habibi. Today is a day for thanks and for happiness. We are all together, that is what matters, yes?”

Not all of us… “Yeah.”

“Good,” she said, turning around to holler toward the kitchen. “Hurry with the food boys, our guests are getting hungry!”

The kitchen door opened and Abdul led Patrick and Peter out with hands filled with various meats and side dishes that all looked and smelt amazing. A foot caught the door just before it closed and a sarcastic, familiar voice, called out. “Thanks for holding the door, dickhead.”

Nana turned, quick as a whip. “Jake! Language!”

My heart stopped. Jake. The dark-haired bartender stepped out of the kitchen with a roguish grin. “Sorry Nana.” He bent down a kissed her cheek, moving to follow Patrick to the tables when his eyes met mine. Beneath his unwavering gaze, I felt tears start to build in my eyes as the relief of seeing him… Of him being here soothed the ache in my chest.

Sasha threw an arm around my shoulder and wagged a finger in his face. "Jakey! We weren't expecting to see your grumpy face tonight!"

Ari settled in her seat next to Quinn and smiled. "Yeah, what happened to going to The Cape?"

His eyes never left mine as he shrugged and answered simply, "Fuck The Cape."

I smiled, a light laugh escaping from my tight throat as I shook my head, reaching out to take one of the plates from him. "Here, let me help you."

“Thanks, Princess.”

The noise of my family was loud as ever, but all I seemed to be able to hear was Jake. Everything he said, every move he made, I was perfectly honed into him… Half expecting this to be a dream. We sat next to each other as Nana and Abdul said their prayers and thanked everyone for coming. Peter stood, unveiling the perfectly cooked turkey and eating up the oos and aahs that filled the diner. “Finally an edible turkey!”

Katie jabbed Patrick in the ribs. “Be nice!”

“I’m always nice,” my brother insisted leaning in to give her a big, wet kiss.

Isaac kissed Peter as he sat back down. “It looks amazing babe!”

Jake’s hand slid onto my knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes stayed focused ahead as he complemented the food, “Everything looks amazing.”

Nana smiled from across the table. “Thank you for coming so early to help, sweet Jake.”

“Yeah, thank’s sweet Jake,” Patrick taunted.

“How long have you been here?” I asked, looking up at him, still shocked.

“He showed up this morning,” Nana replied. “Knocked on our door like a polite gentleman and asked what we needed.”

Abdul laughed. “Poor boys been worked half to death!”

Jake smiled and shrugged, looking a bit awkward as he insisted, “It wasn’t that bad.”

“We even made his favorite dessert,” Nana proudly leaned over to lift a pie into the air. “Lemon meringue.”

He came this morning… That meant… Jake had chosen to stay. He’d chosen not to go with Simone and to come here instead. I forced myself to act normally as we all dished up and stuffed our mouths with delicious food, but nothing could contain my smile and the surge of joy that filled me. Jake had stayed. He chose me.

The night was filled with laughter and dancing and drinking and more food than any of us could even attempt to finish. When we’d all had our fill and packed ourselves leftovers, Nana and Abdul gathered help from Dom and the bikers to deliver the rest to those in need. I stood outside and watched the lot carefully pack the boxes onto their bikes when Jake walked out and stood beside me. “It’s pretty cool they donate some of the food.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Nana and Abdul are kind of the best.”

“They really are.”

"I'm really glad you came tonight," I finally whispered looking up at the faint stars in the sky. "It was… A rough day."

"Yeah, I heard." Glancing at him he shrugged. "Sasha's a gossip."

I nodded, picking at my fingers. "Right, shoulda known."

"I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but… I'm proud of you for standing up to her." He bumped me with his shoulder. "Wish I coulda been there to see it."

Without even meaning to, the words slipped out, “I thought you went home.”

Jake’s eyes stayed glued to mine as he answered, “I did.”

My eyes filled with tears again, ones I quickly blinked away as I lifted myself to kiss him. The cold air sent goosebumps rising on my arms, but as Jake cradled my face in his hands and kissed me back with equal passion and fervor, I’d never felt warmer.

*

"Anthony," she breathed out with a fresh smile as she entered the empty restaurant. "It's so good to see you again!"

He smiled at her and Olivia felt like the most important girl in the world. Anthony lounged in the chair and replied with equal enthusiasm, "It's good to see you too, Olivia." Reaching out, he brushed her hair out of her face, eyes lighting up with that mirthful glow. “I love what you've done with your hair.”

“Thank you.” She settled in beside him and blushed. “I was surprised when Jen told me you wanted to have dinner together.”

“Why?” He questioned. “You’re a beautiful and fascinating woman, Olivia. Any man, myself included, would be blessed to be in your company.”

She blushed and shook her head, looking around the restaurant that she hated so much. “Why here?”

Anthony shrugged, taking a modest sip of his wine. “Because we can.”

"Did you need help with something?" She asked, changing the subject in an attempt to ground herself.

"As a matter of fact I do," he replied, carefully turning the book on the table towards her. "I need you to tell me everything you know about this woman."

Olivia's brows furrowed as she examined the drawing on the page. "Simone?"

Anthony nodded encouragingly. "An associate of mine has been in some contact with her, but he's having some… Difficulty. Jennifer assured me you would be able to help."

"Of course!" She cheered. "Anything for you!"

Tapping the page with his finger he grinned again. "Good. Now, tell me about this Simone."

They spent the whole night talking. It was mostly about Simone, but Olivia didn’t mind. As long as she could talk to him, to hear that amazingly soothing voice of his, she was perfectly happy. Food was served and, to her at least, a good time was had before Howard approached the table. His face was bruised and swollen and clearly unhappy as he moved to the side, gesturing with his hand to a painting on the wall behind him. “Does this satisfy your request?”

Anthony tilted his head, truly examining the piece before he smiled. “It does.”

Oliva’s eyes devoured the unique-looking thing, admiring the bright colors and the almost violence the art radiated. She was about to comment on his taste in art when she noticed the tiny scribbled name in the corner. 

Lena.