Chapter 63

*Payton*

It’s been over a week since I got back to Melissa’s and things are going pretty good despite so many things being up in the air. I had a video chat with Mom, Aunt Elaine, and Janice even offered to come by for moral support and answer any legal questions they might have. We explained things to her and I was surprised at how well she took things. If I had to guess, I would say she already suspected something was a little off with Roland. She is going to stay with Elaine until she can figure out what to do next. She still has the money from the sale of our house, so she is not left out in the cold.

I am unemployed as of now but Mom insisted that the money from the sale of our house was part mine as well, so all I had to do was ask. It’s the first time she has mentioned this, so I assume she feels like she needs to do something to make amends for the situation she put us in by getting involved with Roland in the first place. She started to blame Jake for my kidnapping, as Dean couldn’t have pulled it off without Trixie, who was part of “Jake’s world” but I shut that down fast. I don’t need her thoughts in my head. I am sure Dean would have had a plan B, if he didn’t have Trixie to work with.

With the help of my therapist I have decided it is time I talk to Jake and this is not something I want to do over the phone. I texted him earlier today to ask him to come over for dinner and made it clear that we needed to talk. One of the things I recognized in therapy is my tendency to allow others to make my decisions for me. First it was my father, my desire to follow in his professional footsteps. Then I moved back in with my mother because she insisted. I was easily persuaded as I saw it as a good financial decision. But really, someone my age should not be so willing to move back in with their mother and her new husband. I could have gotten a roommate and managed on the generous salary Roland was paying me.

I am determined to become more self reliant and vocal about my wants and needs. The first step will be facing my feelings for Jake and determining what to actually do about them. Melissa has agreed to leave the house to us for the evening as she fears she may now be biased toward her new cousin. I have to stop myself from laughing at her enthusiasm over having a family. Until those results come back, which should be any day now, I don’t want her to get her hopes up too much. I fear however, that it may be too late.

I hear Jake’s bike pull into the driveway just as Melissa is coming out of her bedroom. I glance at my watch; 6:43. Okay, he is early. My hand starts to shake.

Melissa heads to the front window and looks outside. “Awe, look at the little love struck boy out there on his big mean bike. Such a contrast,” she sniggers. She turns to me as she adjusts her purse over her shoulder. “You want me to put him out of his misery or make him wait?” she asks.

“Oh, tell him to come on in.” This is not going to be any easier now or in an hour I think to myself.

Melissa comes over and gives me a long hug. “You got this Pay. Stick to your guns and don’t let him change your mind.” She is then out the door.

I watch as she stops to speak to Jake, lean in and kiss him on the cheek. I envy her and how natural she is accepting all these changes to her life. I guess she learned to go with the punches at a young age. There is something to be said about that. I myself was too sheltered and protected. Tonight, that stops. I suck in a deep breath and open the door just as Jake is lifting his hand to knock.

I open the door and my heart stops. This is how I know I am making the right decision. He is in need of a haircut, not that I mind his hair long, I actually like it. Just a trim to tame it down a little, although it looks like he put a little more effort into it this evening than he normally does. There is several days worth of stubble on his face but it is neat and tidy. It suits him perfectly; that stage between cleancut and a full on beard. His long lean legs are in a pair of black jeans, which are tucked into his scruffy black riding boots. He is wearing a dark blue button down shirt, which makes his eyes even brighter than normal and contrasts perfectly with the black leather jacket he has on over it. I want to lick him from head to toe but I can’t let that cloud my judgment or make me change my mind.

I gesture for him to come in and offer him a beer. We don’t usually have beer at the house but I noticed Melissa had some from when Rocky was here. I could have just given him that but went out today and picked up what I know is his favorite. Am I trying to soften him up? Maybe. Do I feel guilty? Not in the least.

I get myself a glass of wine and return to the living room with it, along with Jake's beer. He is sitting restlessly on one end of the couch, I take the opposite end. Jake picks at the label of his beer but doesn’t take a drink. He is looking at me intently and it is making me super nervous. I take a long drink from my wine glass and bite the bullet.

Unfortunately, I only get a few words out of my mouth when the doorbell rings. Damn. It’s our food. I had originally planned to talk to Jake after I fed him but seeing the look of trepidation on his face as he sat there, I jumped the gun. Maybe this interruption is a good thing. Maybe this is not the best time to tell him. Besides, I don’t want him leaving and me having to eat all this food myself.

I hear him mutter something as I get up to answer the door. I tip the driver and take my bags, planning to set them out on the dining room table, which I have already prepared. When I turn around from the door however, I smack directly into Jake.

He reaches for the bags and takes them from me. Stalking to the table he lays the bags down and takes my hand, leading me back to the living room.

“Jake, what are you doing?” I ask him.

“I’m not waiting is what I’m doing. You obviously have something you want to tell me, so tell me.” I can sense a little bit of frustration and anger in his voice, although he is clearly trying to hide it.

“But the food will get cold,” I protest.

“I don’t give a fuck about the food,” he responds. Yup, he is angry. He winces at his own words. “I’m sorry, Pay. I just haven’t seen you in what feels like forever and food is the last thing on my mind right now.” He sits me back down on the couch where I was before we were interrupted. Instead of sitting back where he was, however, he moves my wine glass and sits on the coffee table right in front of me. He has my legs caged in with his own and I can’t help the shiver that travels through my body.

Jake must sense this reaction to his nearness but he totally misunderstands. He scoots further back on the table and asks, “is this okay? Do you want me to sit further away?” The concern on his face shreds my heart a little more. God, this man. I can hold it in no longer.

“Jake, I’m not cut out to be some biker’s bitch. If that is what you want, leave now. I love you Jake, I want it all with you. The ring, the white picket fence, the 2.5 kids, everything. If you don’t want that, you can leave now.” The words rush out so fast I see a little shock and confusion on his face before his chin hits his chest and he lets out a deep sigh.

Well, crap. What does that mean?