#sweetbitter jake x lena

[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.

#fic: nightshade #jake x lena #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter fic #sweet bitter #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter tv series #tom sturridge #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x oc smut #sweetbitter jake and lena #sweetbitter original characters #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter santos #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter scott #thanksgiving #thankful

[myriadimagines]

tag game!

i was tagged by the amazing molly (@oneofakindimagines), ella (@iknowmyvalue-fics) and noah (@locke-writes)!!!

ONE / name / alias: samantha / sam

TWO / birthday: sept. 26th

THREE / zodiac sign: libra

FOUR / height: 5��4″

FIVE / hobbies: writing, badly playing guitar/ukulele, listening to music, hanging out with friends

SIX / favourite colors: yellow and blue

SEVEN / favourite books: sweetbitter by stephanie danler, the haunting of hill house by shirley jackson, the great alone by kristin hannah, annihilation by jeff vandermeer  

EIGHT / last song listened to: happy man by jungle

NINE / last film watched: spider-man: far from home

TEN / inspiration for muse: uhhh just movies/tv shows really. honestly i just watch things and think ‘how would things go if it happened this way/i inserted my own character’ and write. also music sometimes 

ELEVEN / dream job: oh boy uh,,,,,, in another life maybe a surgeon, maybe an actress, but realistically a criminal psychologist

TWELVE / meaning behind your url: i wanted something to show i write a lot of imagines for lots of different fandoms and the word myriad popped in my head so here we are

THIRTEEN / top 3 ships: uh peter x michelle (marvel), jake x amy (b99), kara x lena (dc)

FOURTEEN / lipstick or chapstick: chapstick

FIFTEEN / currently reading: the same book im not actually getting much progress on and should probably start another book and come back to this one but the vorrh by brian catling

tagging anyone who’s interested!!!!

#s talks

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 17 | Chapter 19

Chapter 18: Double Double Toil And Trouble

TW: as per usual language, drinking, smoking, mention of drugs, some depictions of abuse this chapter, some gangish stuff, violence, flashbacks, a hint of suicidal tendencies, some blood, use of a slur (the F slur), Eddie's a flirty asshole but we love him, some deep conversations with Daddy Oz & a tender moment or two, costumes, fake horror (it's Halloween y'all), supportive friends that also make fun of each other, some smutty themes 👀 Enjoy the wild ride that is this chapter y'all! I edited it really quick so please ignore any mistakes I missed! AO3 is also not working for me. I know they've been having issues all day and I'm not sure if they've fixed it or not yet, but I'll be keeping my eyes peeled and will get this chapter up there as soon as possible.

Edit: It is now up on AO3!

"-Fire burn and cauldron bubble!" Quinn wiggled her fingers in my face, dramatically cackling.

I brushed her hands away, shaking my head at her dramatics as I reminded her, "Halloween is still like four days away."

"So?" She questioned. "I'm not allowed to be in the spooky spirit?"

"You're allowed to be in whatever spirit you wanna be as long as you keep that spirit outta my face," I responded.

She put her hands up at her sides, eyes widening and brow arching. "Well damn! Somebody's grumpy today!"

I shook my head. "I'm not grumpy."

"Spill it," she urged, leaning on the hostess stand.

Normally I'd just wait her out. An easy enough thing to do, considering Quinn's impatience. Sadly, that wasn't an option when she stood inside my workplace just an hour before we were supposed to open back up for the night. So, with a careful look over my shoulder at the bar where Nicky polished glasses, and Jake began pre-slicing the garnishes, I sighed. "I'm playing nice with Simone, and she's been… Taxing today."

With a glance at the second floor, where the blonde was setting tables Quinn smirked. "Want me to hit her?"

"No!" I growled. "What part of playing nice would make you think hitting her is a good idea?"

"I never said it was a good idea," Quinn defended. "It'd be fun, though."

"It would," I whined, planting my face on the hostess stand. "It really would."

My friend gave me a pat on the back, carefully rubbing my shoulders. "What'd she do this time?"

I shrugged. "She's just… Everywhere. Helping me with my jewelry in the locker room, insisting on doing my hair, reminding me to double-check the reservations, to smile, and just everything."

"Okay, that's annoying," she agreed. "Why the fuck is she doing all that now?"

"I opened the door," I replied bitterly. It was a term Quinn, and I had used often, mostly referencing relationships with people we knew were going to be toxic as hell. Opening the door was essentially allowing someone with a reputation for turning your offered step into a mile a chance to do so again.

Quinn was notorious for chasing off men Prue had unintentionally opened the door for, while she herself opened the door to very few. Those she did open it to were usually the worst sort of people. People like Simone.

She clicked her tongue and shook her head at me. "It's been a hot minute since you opened the door. I think I'm gonna gloat."

I deserved that. The last time Quinn let an ex get away with too much, I was pretty smug about it. "Gloat away."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's no fun if you're fine with it. The least you could do is make some fuss."

"Holy shit, would you ju-"

"Lena," Simone interrupted with a polite smile. "So sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to remind you that it's the Peterson's anniversary tonight, so we'll want to show them an extra warm welcome."

Grinding my teeth through the smile, I nodded. "Thank you for reminding me. I'll make a note of it." Again. I thought, thinking about the four other times she'd reminded me.

"Excellent," Simone said, carefully lifting a hand to fix my hair before she set off toward the kitchen. Jake smiled at her as she passed, and that smile slowly extended to me.

"Jesus, look at that dumb smile," Quinn said, peering over my shoulder at Jake. "You're so fucked."

“Royally fucked.”

“He looks like he’s gonna start asking you to hang out with her for like… fun.”

I jabbed my finger in her face. “Don’t even say that!”

She rolled her eyes and slapped my hand away. “Relax, I’m sure he’ll take your polite refusal very well. It’s her I’m worried about. She’s treating you like a doll. It’s creepy.”

Olive strolled out of the kitchen as if on cue, smiling at Simone’s glare. “Yeah, well, considering the recent loss of her other plaything, I’d say it’s to be expected. After everything I said to her, I just didn't think I'd be her next target."

“It’s still working here?” Quinn asked in a seething tone as Olive made her way toward us.

“Hello,” she said, smug and self-important and very… Simone like. She looked Quinn up and down, taking in the sight of her witch attire. “Making some fun plans for Halloween?”

Quinn’s tongue was quicker and sharper than mine as she sized up the faux red-haired woman. “We already know what our plans are for Halloween.”

Olive smiled, foolishly meeting Quinn’s challenge. “Let me guess, a party at that run-down, old bar?”

"Yep.”

“Sounds interesting may-”

“You even think about showing up, and I'll tear that ugly ass red off your head faster than you can say desperate."

Olive took a moment to consider her opponent, likely thinking Quinn would be less of a threat because of her "simple" dancing background. That, of course, left out the years of fighting she'd done to survive in this city with no connections. Quinn took a step forward, that crazy gleam in her eyes and a smug smile tugging up the corners of her lips. Try it. She dared without words, but Olive heard it. She heard the crazed and wild challenge in Quinn, and with an abrupt clearing of her throat, she backed down. “I wouldn’t set foot in that bar again even if someone paid me. Besides, I have other plans."

Quinn nodded, a winning smile spreading on her lips, bearing her teeth to Olive. "I'm sure you do."

Quinn's body relaxed the second she was gone, and she nudged my shoulder. “Don’t forget we’ve got the hat drawing tonight.”

“Right,” I sighed. “What are the choices again?”

“Fuck if I know. That’s Prue’s department, remember?”

“Shit. That means we’re in for some very elaborate choices.”

She rolled her eyes. “Relax, I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

I gave her a look. “Says the woman that had to come up with a whole ass Sailor Moon costume in like three days.”

She nodded, chuckling at the memory. “Riiiigghhtt. We really should do costume picking earlier, shouldn’t we?”

“Probably.”

Her eyes drifted to Jake, and that sly smile returned. “If you could get your pretty bartender to dress up as something, what would it be?”

I glanced at him, focusing on that dark hair, the quickness of his hands as he sliced the lime in front of him, those deep waves of focused blue eyes… He glanced up, catching my gaze for a split second as I turned away. “Jake’s not going to dress up. He’s far too grown up for that sort of thing.”

“Would you just humor me for once?” Quinn complained. “What would you die to see him dress up as?”

“You know this answer!” I insisted, giving her that look.

She knew instantly what I meant, rolling her eyes. “Egon from Ghostbusters. I should have known.”

I shook my head, blushing slightly at the mention of my old childhood crush. “Shut up! At least my answer is simple, unlike your insane fantasy about the Scooby Doo gang."

Quinn smirked, biting her lip at the lewd thought my words brought back to her mind. She shrugged. "I'm bisexual. Sue me."

She moved past me, heading toward the bar. "Where are you going?"

"I've gotta give my girl a goodbye kiss," she replied with a dumb happy smile.

"Disgusting," I teased, watching her approach Ari, who beamed at the sight of her.

Sasha sashayed out from the main dining room, making a face at the display in front of him. "Ugh, young love. Absolutely horrifying, isn't it?"

My eyes drifted to Jake as he sent me a quick wink. "Yeah, it's the fucking worst."

*

Jake was in unusually high spirits. It was an odd feeling, the lack of weight on his chest, the ability to breathe freely for the first time in a long time. It was so odd that he sometimes caught himself holding his breath, waiting for an ache… For something to force that pressure back onto him. But then he just had to look at the beam of red hair standing at the hostess stand, and air filled his lungs again.

Lena was like a beacon, bathed in the low afternoon sunlight. She stood at the hostess stand, her shoulders holding a visible tension as she quietly worked. The stiffness Lena held whenever Simone would speak to her didn't go unnoticed. In fact, it was something that made him tense as well. Jake would always hold his breath for a few seconds, watching closely for signs either woman was bearing their breaking point with the other.

Simone was calm and polite, as she always was, and while Lena mirrored that, he could tell it was something that didn't feel as natural to her. Still, he appreciated the gesture more than she would ever know. It wasn't until Quinn strolled through the front door, dressed in a cheap witch costume, that he saw that tension lift even just a little. He couldn't hear their conversation, but it was Quinn, so he could only assume it was something mildly inappropriate.

As he worked, he caught her multiple glances, smirking at each obvious one. Jake liked her glances - liked the way his body felt beneath the crystal-like gaze of her stare. It made him feel important and desired and perhaps even a bit naked. Lena was the only person, aside from Simone, that could read him as though he were an open book. She saw every emotion and could practically read his mind all with her eyes. An addictive feeling, one he had no quarrel in chasing after.

Quinn happily made her way past the redhead, moving straight for Ari with purpose in her heeled steps. He wasn't at all surprised when she pulled the curly-haired woman into a sweet and lustful kiss. For a quick moment, Jake imagined what it would be like to kiss Lena like that. Out in the open, unafraid and uncaring of who saw them… 

This thought was quickly washed away by the sound of Quinn's hand clapping on top of the bar. "You look awfully chipper today."

"I was having a very good time til you showed up," He teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Please, if anything, I've improved your day just by stopping by."

"Whatever you say."

"So, got any plans for Halloween?" She wiggles her eyebrows. "Got a costume in mind?"

Jake shook his head, continuing his work. "I don't do costumes."

Quinn acted surprised, but he could tell she wasn't. "Why not? They're so fun!"

"I'm not thirteen anymore," Jake replied with a flippant scoff.

Quinn's face hardened slightly, an offended and protective look filling her eyes with fire. "You should be more grateful. Some people don't get a chance to be thirteen." His head tilted slightly, noting her words but more so the tiny look over her shoulder at Lena. Interesting. "Anyway. I have a question for you."

"Which is?"

"What costume do you think our darling redhead would look good in this year?"

His eyes slid to Lena, taking in her form as she squabbled with Sasha. From where he stood, she looked like an angel, bathed in light, bright and glowing. "You ever see that Romeo and Juliet movie?"

Quinn's face scrunched up slightly as she chuckled. "The one with Leonardo Dicaprio?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, suddenly feeling silly. "She'd look good as Juliet. You know, from that scene where they first meet or whatever."

"The angel," she replied, looking at her friend. "A wonderful suggestion. See? I knew you'd be helpful."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Have a good day, witch."

She called, giving Ari one last kiss and a soft look. "See you tonight?"

Ari smiled wider and nodded. "Of course."

"Goodbye, servants!" Quinn hollered to the rabble, kissing Lena's cheek as she left.

Even after the door had closed, Ari was still smiling, a bright look in her eyes he hadn't seen even when she was high out of her mind. A longing, but a fulfilled-looking one. He would never admit it, but part of him felt jealous, a feeling he buried as he turned to catch another of Lena's glances.

*

I swiftly carried the plates back into the kitchen, gingerly setting them down on the table for Scott to glare at. “Table four says the chicken is dry.”

“God fucking…” He huffed, turning and tossing the food in the garbage. “Refire, two chicken!”

My eyes wandered to the station near the back, where a bright-colored bandana was still absent. “Is Isaac not here?”

Scott just shook his head, hurriedly working on the steady stream of dishes. “Said he was sick or something. I dunno. It’s been a few days, though. Have you not heard from him?”

“I called, but it just went straight to voicemail. He texted me an hour later with the same response.”

“Well, at least he’s got the sense to keep whatever he’s got out of my kitchen.”

I stared at the cook standing in my friends' normal place, focusing on the heavy pit that filled my gut. Isaac loved this job. There was nothing that could keep him away, not even a little case of the sniffles. If he was gone, for a whole week, no less, then there was something big going on. Whether that was some sickness, like he said, or something worse, I didn’t know. But, then and there, as I turned on my heel, I decided that after service, I was going to find out.

The night was long, filled with too many people that overcrowded the bar and the entryway. I triple-checked the reservation book, searching the pages for all the names of the guests that showed up claiming to have made a reservation. It was hell trying to appease them and investigate the sudden and unexplainable amount of individuals claiming to have been booked.

While I saw to the guests' comfort, Howard did some investigating. He asked who each guest spoke to when making their reservation but got multiple names of the morning hostess as well as a few prestigious servers that sometimes handled reservation calls. There was a string of phone calls made after that, asking them why they wouldn't check the books before making such reservations, but all of them claimed to have done so and found the time slots empty. There was something deeper going on, but I chose to let Howard handle it so I could focus on Isaac.

Once things started moving, they didn't stop. Everything flew by in a rush of bodies and fake pleasantries, but I hardly noticed any of it. I'd slipped to the back to text Isaac one last time. I have a hot meal from Nana to help you feel better. Can I stop by after my shift?

I expected to be kept waiting again, as all of us that had texted or called him had, but Isaac's reply was instant. That's nice, but I'm not really feeling very hungry. Best to stay away so you don't get what I've got.

That was the final straw. Isaac had been part of our group for years. He'd dated my brother, and never once in all that time did he turn away a meal from Nana or the chance at having company to help him feel better. Something was wrong. I didn't reply, opting to just show up anyway and deal with whatever he was going through when I got there.

I rushed through the last of service and hurried up to the locker room, stripping out of my lavender gown before anyone else even got upstairs. I rushed the dry cleaning bag to Howard's office along with the earrings and necklace he'd lent me. While everyone else passed to get to the locker room, I was already making my way to the front door.

Nicky noted my quick pace with a chuckle and a glass. “Slow down, Red. You move any faster, and we’ll have to replace the carpet.”

“Can’t tonight, Nick,” I replied, drawing Jake’s attention. “I got something I gotta handle.”

Jake turned, looking me up and down with tight-knit brows. “What’s goin' on?”

I shrugged. “Dunno yet. I’m gonna go check up on Isaac. It’s been like a week since anyone's seen him.”

“He lives out in Queen’s, doesn’t he?” Jake asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come with.”

I smirked. “Yeah?”

He nodded, tossing me his jacket. “Yeah. Wait for me.”

While Jake changed, I hopped behind the bar to help Nicky clean everything up. I asked him about how things were at home and listened while the older man gushed about his daughters. He reminded me of my dad in moments like this, ones where the love he had for his family was practically pouring out of his eyes. While it was painful to linger on the memories of my dad and the hole now left in my heart his death left me with, I felt a sense of relief that Nicky’s children likely wouldn't know the horrors too many of us had.

Jake strolled out from the kitchen, pulling his shirt over his head with one hand while he held his jacket in the other. From the bar, I could hear Sasha’s taunting. “You really don’t have to come.”

“I know.”

“There any particular reason why you’re so adamant about joining me?” I asked as we walked out the front door.

“Queen’s is a sketchy neighborhood.”

“I think I can handle a few thugs,” I assured him.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Put the jacket on. It’s cold out.”

I grinned, shoving my arms into his leather jacket. “Yes, mother. Oh, we gotta stop by Nana’s real quick.”

With a genuine smile, Jake turned down the street. “Good, she owes me a dessert.”

“Nana owes you a dessert?” I asked, tucking my hands into the warmth of his sleeves.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “She lost a bet.”

“Nana bet you?!”

With a chuckle, the bartender shrugged. “It was just over Quinn’s cake. She bet I wouldn’t find one Quinn liked, and I bet I could. Obviously, given how my shirt ended up covered in mascara stains, I won.”

I smiled up at him, watching the city lights bathe his face in that light that just made him look irresistible. “I’m kind of impressed.”

That devilish grin made my heart skip a beat as Jake replied, "That's what impresses you? Not my good looks or my bartending skill?"

"You know, I almost forgot about your superiority complex." I pinched my fingers together. "Just a little bit."

"Well, guess I'll have to dial it up then."

"Guess so," I said with a fearless grin. "Wouldn't want anyone to forget how amazing you are."

The diner was filled with people when we arrived, a bustling hub of family and food, and fun. We didn't even have a real chance to get through the door before Nana pulled us both into her arms, whispering her prayers. "Oh, my sweet children!"

I borrowed into her spiced perfume and her warmth, letting that rare and fleeting feeling of peace fill me. "How's your night going, Nana?"

She pulled away, holding both mine and Jake's cheeks. "Better now that I have seen you both. Are you staying for dinner?"

"I'm actually here to grab some soup for Isaac."

"Yes," she replied with a thoughtful hum. "Quinn told me he has been ill. I'll pack all his favorites! And you," she pointed at Jake. "I assume you'll want your dessert as well?"

Jake chuckled. "Only if it isn't too much trouble."

Waving him off with an Arabic curse, she smiled. "What do you want, sweet boy?"

"I'll let the expert decide," he deferred, gesturing to me.

"Do you have any sumac left?"

"Lemon?" She assumed correctly.

"You know me too well, Nana."

"Of course I do!" She hurried to the back, emerging with a pile of food and to-go boxes. Jake and I stepped up to the counter and helped her pack it all when she gave me a sly look. "On the topic of wants and knowing, I've meant to ask… What do you want for your birthday this year, my Habibi?"

I sighed and gave her a stiff smile. "You already know my answer, Nana."

"Hadha maratan 'ukhraa?" She sighed and stroked my cheek. "'Ant nur watastahiqu aliahtifal."

I knew the rough translation, having heard the words so many times before. You are a light, and you deserve celebrating. Ignoring the pang of guilt and sorrow, her words filled me with, I nodded to the back. "I'm gonna go say hi to Abdul."

"So I get no answer?"

Rolling my eyes, I kissed her cheek. "I gave you an answer eanzat eajuz eanida."

Nana whirled, the newspaper already rolled and raised to hit me as she shouted after me. "I am no old goat!"

Laughing to myself, I slid into the kitchen where Abdul and the other young cooks were pushed together, slaving over the food.

*

Jake watched Lena scurry away from the old woman with a smile. Nana returned the newspaper to the small holder and shook her head. "Such mischief!"

"She is quite mischievous," he replied.

"Stubborn, too," Nana added, shaking her head. "Every year, I ask what she wants for her birthday. A tradition for all of my extended children, and every year that girl tells me the same thing."

Jake leaned forward slightly. "What does she say?"

"She says: Don't fuss! I don't need anything, Nana."

With a shrug, he considered her reply. "Maybe she just doesn't want anything."

The old woman frowned and shook her head, a deep sorrow filling her eyes as she looked up at him. "No, that is not what it is."

"What is it then?"

She cursed herself quietly. "You are a smart boy, Jake. By now, it is no secret to you that our Lena's past is… It is complicated."

Looking over at the door the redhead disappeared through he nodded. "Yeah, so I've been told."

"It is no one's story to tell but hers," she insisted. "But, you will need to know that her birthday is a very painful and very joyous day."

"Patrick said it was when she got back. Where was she before?"

"An evil place," Nana said with bitter anger. With a quick shake of her head, she muttered another prayer before that anger quickly shifted to pride. "Our girl is so strong. Yet, she still feels the pain that those lost years brought. So, when she says she does not want anything… It is not what she truly feels. She wants so much but does not feel she deserves it because of what was done to her… Because of what she has done."

Jake frowned, the two refocusing on packing the food. In the silence of his own mind, the answers he had raged against the questions that lingered until the words were practically forced from him. "Who was he? The asshole that hurt her?"

Nana met his gaze of burning fire with one of her own. "A man I pray every day you will never have to meet."

*

With the food in hand, Jake and I caught a cab. The drive was quiet, filled with the smell of Nana's food and whatever clearly cheap cologne the cabbie had doused himself in. It felt awkward between us, Jake's playful mood having faded since I returned from the kitchen at Nana's. I could only assume it was because of worry about Isaac or something else that he simply didn't want to talk about at the moment. So, I swallowed my questions and shifted my focus to Isaac.

We approached the apartment with caution. It wasn’t the worst place I’d seen, but it was still very obviously run down and housing multiple gang affiliates. As I knocked, the scuff marks on Isaac’s door made my heart hammer in my chest. “Isaac! It’s Lena and Jake. We've got the food from Nana's.”

There wasn’t an answer, so I knocked again. Jake looked around, taking note of the way a few of the gang members stared at us. “Maybe he’s not home.”

From behind the door, I could hear the floor breaking with movement. With a sigh and a more gentle knock, I said, "Isaac… I don't know what's going on, but… We're here for you. All of us."

The locks clicked, and the door slowly opened, revealing my friend's black and blue swollen face. "Jesus."

A rough sob escaped Isaac's throat, pushing me into action as I stepped into his apartment and pulled him into me. "It's okay. I've got you. I've got you, Isaac."

Jake stayed standing while I sat beside Isaac on his couch and held him. I could tell this wasn’t his first time handling a situation like this, but no matter how many times he’d seen such, he still didn’t know what to do. No one did. I stroked Isaac’s hair and let him cry as he tearfully attempted to apologize for lying to us all. “I’m so sorry, Lee… I-”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Isaac,” I replied instantly. “Nothing.”

He wiped his nose with his long sleeve, only highlighting the cuts on his fingers. “I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

I nodded into his head and gently pulled him back to look at him. “What happened?”

“It-”

“Don’t even try to tell me it’s nothing.” I shook my head. “This is not nothing.”

Nodding solemnly, he sighed. “My ex-boyfriend recently moved back to the city and heard I was doing well. He’s a toxic narcissist, so that obviously didn’t sit well. Apparently, he took it as some sort of insult or something and tracked me down. Almost busted my door down, and then he and some of his buddies beat the shit out of me.” Tears filled his eyes, and the far-off look in them told me everything I needed to know. “They said they’d be coming back, so I just… locked the door and hoped for the best… you know?”

"Did you call Dom?"

Isaac nodded, roughly wiping his eyes. "He said he'd take care of it. I tried calling him a few days ago, but he never answered."

Stay calm, I reminded myself. Dom was a busy man. He had his business to run, other gangs to keep his eyes on, and his attention was still on making sure Tony stayed gone. He cared about Isaac, about all of us, and if he told him he was figuring it out, then he was. These simple reminders did little to keep the frustrated anger from boiling up in my chest. If Dom was too busy to fix this, I'd do it myself. "Give me a name."

"No! Lena!" Isaac gripped my hands tightly. "I don't want you to get involved."

"Isaac." I gently touched his cheek, grinding my teeth together at the way he flinched. "Give me his name. Please."

"He could hurt you," the man insisted. "I would never be able to forgive myself if he hurt you, Lena."

I smiled a gesture that barely concealed my rage. "He won't hurt me. Please. Let me help."

The room was deathly still for a moment as Isaac cried. "Aaron. Aaron Walsh. He lives a few blocks away. But… He - he's got gang protection. You'll never get near him."

I pulled my phone from my pocket. "Yes, I will."

Jake took my place on the couch, holding an ice pack out to Isaac and calmly offering him any reassurance he could think of. "Come on, I'll help you pack a bag."

The phone rang three times before a grunting voice picked up. "This better be important," I could hear a female voice in the background, moaning as she demanded to know why the hell he answered a call. "I'm in the middle of something."

"Eddie," I replied. "It's me."

"Lena!" He cheered with another grunt. "Been a while, kid."

"Yeah, yeah, pull your dick out of whatever hooker you've got tonight and meet me at Ozzy's."

The man laughed. "Bossy, bossy! I take it this isn't a social call."

I sighed, punching the bridge of my nose. "Bring Alexi and Igor."

He shushed the woman. "This is serious, then? Give me a name."

"Aaron Walsh." I looked over my shoulder at Jake as he helped Isaac pack his bag. "I want to be there."

"Is the big bad Lena coming out of her shell?" Eddie mocked before he continued in Russian, sifter than before. "You know what tonight will be. Are you sure you're up for that?"

"I'm not stupid. Get your shit and meet me at Ozzy's." I replied.

"What about him?" Eddie asked, his voice growing tense. "You know it'll be war if he sees me."

"Just do it. I'll deal with Dom."

"At your command," he said with another laugh and a thick accent as he articulated his Spanish, "See you soon."

"See you soon,” I replied back.

Isaac made a fuss over Jake carrying his bag for him but relaxed slightly at Jake’s calm levelheadedness. It was new seeing the bartender so quiet and not smug, but I assumed it was just because this was how Jake was used to handling situations like this. Despite his constant slew of complaints and asshole-ish comments, Jake cared. He cared about the people he worked with, even the ones he didn’t spend a lot of time with, like the kitchen staff - Isaac included. As we drove to Ozzy’s, Jake was nothing but gentle, making sure that the battered and beaten man sitting between us knew he was safe now and that he wasn’t alone.

Ozzy’s was now fully prepared for Halloween, with lights adorning the old brick walls and fake spiderwebs hanging over the doorway. Even the bikers all did their part in making sure their bikes were scuffed up and looking the part to help sell Ozzy’s theatrics this year. We led Isaac inside, shoving people out of the way until we reached the bar, where everyone looked up to greet us. Their smiles all fell.

Quinn and Patrick were the first ones on their feet, steadily making their way toward Isaac and enveloping him in a hug. Prue asked questions, carefully examining him to use what first aid knowledge she had to access his injuries. The restaurant staff was livid, especially the kitchen, but it was my brother's reaction that made my heart sink even lower. 

Peter stood at the edge of the bar, his eyes set in teary anger as he looked at the man he’d once told me he thought he loved. Anger wasn’t something Peter felt often, but when he did… it was difficult to keep his head on his shoulders while he was in that kind of state. So, instead of moving to embrace Isaac like everyone else, Peter disappeared out the back door. Ozzy gave me a calm, reassuring hand gesture as he followed close behind him.

“What’s everyone all riled up about?” Dom’s voice boomed over the music as he and a few bikers made their way toward the bar.

Turning my head to glare at him, I sighed. “Isaac’s been beaten half to death, so everyone’s kind of worried about him.”

Dom’s face turned white as he looked at the bruises and poorly bandaged cuts that littered the kitchen boy’s skin. “Holy shit.”

“He said he called you,” I told him, carefully watching the delayed reaction and the confusion play on his face. “Do you remember that?”

“I don’t,” he answered. Guilt swam in his eyes, along with a misty look that I knew too well. “I-”

"Well shit," a deep and mischief-filled voice boomed from among the crowd. Dom's face twisted in an instant. Shit. Eddie strolled out from the crowd, two of his biggest and best fighters at his sides. He looked Dom up and down with a bitter grin. "You got even uglier than the last time I saw you."

Eddie’s short, dark hair made him look younger, while the tattoos that stained his tanned skin made him look older… more experienced. It was the shit-eating grin of his that really sealed his reputation as the biggest asshole in the world. Asshole or not, Eddie had connections and manpower. He could help me get the justice Isaac deserved. But Dom wasn’t gonna like it. 

The bikers moved, surrounding them in seconds as Dom shoved away from the bar and stormed toward him. "Get the fuck out."

Eddie's smile only grew. "You gonna make me?"

"Sure, I'd love a chance to kick your ass again."

"That time doesn't count," he replied, a deep-rooted sorrow in his eyes. "We both know I was holding back."

Dom shook his head. "Last chance. Leave, or this'll get ugly."

Eddie's brows raised slightly as he put his hands in his pockets. "I didn't stop by just for shits and giggles. I was invited."

"No one here would invi-"

"I called him," I blurted out. All eyes turned to me, even Dom's. The anger was mixed with hurt now, scorching me with that look. "I called him Dom."

"Alley," he growled. "Now."

Jake stood, looking ready to deck Dom in the face. I put a hand on his arm and shook my head. "I've got this."

He took a deep breath before he nodded stiffly. "Holler if you need me."

I smiled, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, tough guy, I'll be sure to scream your name.

"Promises, promises," he replied with a grin.

Dom had slammed the back door shut behind him. The uncontrolled rage was my first clue that something was off. The sight of him sluggishly pacing was the second. I shut the door behind me, drawing his attention back to me. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that Isaac needed help. And since you have apparently been too busy to answer the phone, I called someone I knew would."

"Jesus," Dom scoffed. "I said I was handling it, so it'll get handled."

Everything was off about him. The anger, the flippant attitude, not already having this whole thing dealt with… All of it pointed to one thing. "Are you high right now?"

He chuckled an entirely angry and bitter sound. "I'm a drug dealer, kid."

"Not one that uses his own product," I replied harshly. "Is this why you haven't been answering your phone? Have you just been getting fucked up all week while Isaac needed your help? What the fu-"

"God, just get off my damn ass about this, Sarah!"

The name broke both of us out of the heated exchange. Anger snuffing out like embers being doused with water. Dom's slightly bloodshot eyes grew wet as he ground his teeth together and turned away from me. I understood the pain that consumed him better than anyone. With a soft sigh and a gentle voice, I said, "I'm not her, Dom..."

"I know."

"I-"

"Don't. Don't you dare apologize," he said raggedly. "You know I hate it when you do that."

"I know."

With a grounding sigh, his back straightened. "Go. Eddie's a fucking moron… He's…" He shook his head. "He can handle this."

I nodded in agreement, carefully asking, "What about you?"

"I'll get my shit figured out."

"Promise?" I asked, almost timidly, holding out my pinky to him. A promise, but also a peace offering.

He looked at my finger, closing his own around it and shutting his eyes, letting one tear roll down his cheek. "I promise."

I carefully wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sorry."

A choked chuckle made his chest stutter. He held onto me for a second, squeezing me tight in a way that made it clear I wasn't the one he was hugging. Then, he gently nudged me away from him. "Go on."

Nothing I said would offer him the relief he sought. Nothing I said would bring her back. So, I turned and left, moving past the bar and to Eddie's side as he continued grinning and goading Dom's bikers on, hoping for a fight. "Big Brother all done tryin' to play puppet master?"

"Wipe that grin off your face," I replied. "Makes you look even dumber than you already are."

"Anything for you, Sweetheart."

His men stepped in front of us, acting as a wall of muscle as Jake tried to move beside me. I slapped the back of the nearest one, Alexi. "Touch him, and I'll break your fucking arm," I growled in Russian. "He's with me."

Alexi looked at Eddie, who gave Jake a curious look before he waved the men off. His dark eyes gleamed down at me with an unspoken teasing. "Hope your boy has a strong stomach. Tonight's gonna get real messy."

"We aren't killing anyone," I warned him quietly, hoping Jake wouldn't hear.

"Oh, you're no fun sober," Eddie whined as he threw his arm around my shoulder, deliberately cutting me off from Jake. "But, you know I'll do anything for you, Sweetheart."

Jake looked livid as we made our way out of Ozzy's toward the car waiting for us. I slipped beneath Eddie's arm and turned to him. "You don't have to come with me if-"

"I'm coming," he interrupted sternly as he eyed Eddie.

The man made an approving noise saying in Spanish, "We'll see how tough he really is."

"Just wait in the car!" I hissed at him, earning a pinch to my cheek as he followed my instructions. "Jake, this isn't going to be a pretty sight."

"I know that."

Touching his arm, I shook my head. "It's not like the fighting rings or boxing or even Dom's shit. This is… It's going to be a lot. I just want you to know you don't have to be there for it."

Part of me wanted to beg him not to come. What would he think of me when he saw the darkest parts come alive? Would that mild fascination his eyes shined with all the other times he saw me fight finally shift to disgust and fear? Would he finally see me the way I saw myself?

"I'm not leaving you alone with this guy," he finally said.

"Eddie's an asshole, but he wouldn't hurt me." Go home. Please.

Jake's determination didn't falter. "I'm coming with you, Lena."

I sighed. "Jake-"

"This asshole hurt Isaac," he said coldly. "And he's gonna keep doing it if we don't make him stop. I'm coming."

It was then that I finally understood Jake's intentions. He wasn't just coming with me to make sure I was safe, but because he was just as angry as I was that Isaac had to suffer through that kind of pain. More so, he thought he had to suffer alone, a thing both of us knew all too well.

I nodded. "Alright. Just…”

“Try not to get my ass kicked?” Jake asked with a hint of a smile.

I found some small comfort in his attempts to be normal about the whole thing - to act like we weren’t both on our way to kick some guy's ass with a bunch of gang members. It gave me some hint of hope that the insanity that followed me most of my life wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for Jake like it was for so many others. Maybe, when the time came, Jake would look at the darker parts of me and not be afraid. I forced myself to swallow those hopes as we climbed into Eddie’s car and settled into the fine leather seats.

Eddie was insufferable the whole drive. He asked Jake questions clearly meant to get a rise out of him, but he was at least impressed when Jake kept his composure. He was clearly unhappy with the company, but Jake didn’t let it get past a harsh scowl or a snippy comeback. And while Eddie would never admit it, I could tell he was impressed.

The car stopped in front of the alley leading to the apartment building this Aaron Walsh lived in. A group of gang boys approached, hands settled on whatever guns they had as Eddie got out of the car with a grin. “You’re gonna wanna rethink that.”

They kept up appearances as they spat at his feet. “The fuck you doin' on our turf?”

“Got some business with a buddy of yours. Aaron. It’d be in your best interest to let us get it settled without interruption.”

“You gonna kill him?” They asked, looking at one another for a minute.

“Not tonight.”

“Shame,” one of the boys replied. “Guy’s insufferable.”

The biggest of them nodded to the building. “Up the stairs. His place is B8.”

Fishing cash out of his pocket Eddie tossed it to the pavement. "Tell your boss I stopped by."

As we walked, I punched him in the shoulder as he giggled. "Stop being a moron. Mav's gonna fucking kick your ass."

"Relax, sweetheart," he purred in Spanish. "Mav likes me now."

"She does not!" I argued, using the conversation to keep from feeling the rise of anxiety in my gut as we neared the stairs.

Eddie knew, his eyes scanning my face for a moment before he sighed. "Last chance to leave before this gets ugly."

I shook my head, inhaling a deep, burning breath. "He hurt Isaac."

Leading the group up the rickety stairs, I marched across the catwalk and stood in front of the door. Bile wanted so badly to come pouring from my throat as every inch of me trembled with fear and rage. A monster fighting against the shedding of its human disguise. Eddie leaned against the doorframe, hood up and a relaxed nature to him that helped ease me as I pounded on the door.

Eddie smiled wide when it opened. "Trick or treat?"

"What the fuck?" The man asked, taking a defensive stance. In an instant, one pathetically short second, the monster broke free.

My fist collided with his throat, and he stumbled back into the apartment. Eddie laughed. "Well shit, looks like it's trick for you, pendejo."

I stepped inside first, eyes trained on the man as he scrambled to his feet and tried to swing at me. Stepping just off to the side, I let his fist collide with the wall. I grabbed his arm and shoved him back into one of the chairs at the table. His friends, people with bruised knuckles and poorly washed blood-stained clothes, all clamored around, trying and failing to get an upper hand on the sudden attack. 

Eddie shot a warning into the table beside Aaron's head, and everything stopped. With a disappointed sound, he nodded to the table. "Sit down."

"I dunno who the hell you think you are-" Aaron tried to say.

"I am Eduardo," Eddie replied simply. "And you are the man that thinks it's fun to beat up ex-boyfriends."

Aaron's lips twitched into a smile as he chuckled, looking at his friends who joined in despite the two Russians towering over them. "So, the fucking fag is still lying bout me being his boyfriend or whatever? Pathetic." Setting his hand on the table, fingers marred with cuts similar to the ones Isaac had, he shrugged. "Seems there's been a misunderstanding."

The voice that echoed in the dark wasn't Eddie's or Alexi's, or Igor's. It was mine. "You like to play games?"

"What?" He replied with a laugh.

I gestured to his fingers. "Knife game?" 

He shrugged again. "I play on occasion."

"More fun to make other people play, though, isn't it?" I could hardly recognize my own voice. Keeping my eyes far from Jake, still unsure of what I'd see if I looked at him, I grabbed the gun from Eddie's hand, knowing it'd be his trusty revolver.

Aaron smiled, and it was like I could see the scene Isaac had once described play in his eyes like some fucked up movie. I could picture him holding Isaac's arm down and tauntingly urging him to keep his fingers apart, or else as he moved the blade between his fingers faster and faster, cutting him deliberately. "It is pretty fun watching other people try to play a game you control the outcome of.”

"Play the game, Lena," Tony said, spinning the cylinder again.

I flinched at the mechanical sound of it whirling. Tony held the gun out to me, expecting me to take it, but I couldn't move. My body was suspended in a frozen state of shock. With an annoyed growl, he grabbed my hand and put the gun in it, lifting the barrel to my head and forcing my finger over the trigger.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. Click.

"Play." Click. "The." Click. "Game." Click.

He turned the gun on himself, eyes wild as he pulled the trigger. Click. The odd mix of relief and disappointment weighed heavy on my chest as Tony's deranged laugh echoed. With a careless swing of his arm, he turned the gun on the group of housekeepers.

Rada discreetly lifted a hand, urging me to stay in my seat and not draw any more attention to myself. He pulled the trigger again.

Bang.

I emptied the bullets, making eye contact with Aaron as I put one back in and spun the cylinder. "I'm partial to Russian Roulette myself."

Behind me, I could hear Jake make some sort of commotion as I lifted the gun to my head and pulled the trigger once. Twice. Three times. Click. Click. Click. Everything felt surreal, my body acting on its own as my mind lashed out. If I squinted, Aaron looked enough like Tony that I could pretend. 

Inside, I was screaming, clawing at the imagined vision of him sitting smugly in front of me. Outwardly, however, I looked calm. My hands didn't shake. My legs never wobbled. It looked like I felt nothing at all.

"Reign it in, sweetheart," Eddie reminded me, the Spanish helping pull me from the memories and the reflex that came with them. He set a warm, calming hand on my elbow. "He isn't your monster."

This wasn't my monster. My jaw clenched, but my body relaxed. This wasn't about me. This was about Isaac. Aaron took my relaxation as a sign of weakness and quickly reached out for his knife.

Bang.

His knee practically exploded in a gush of blood and a sickening sound. Worthless I loaded another bullet into the gun and spun the cylinder. The knife slid across the floor as I knelt in front of the now screaming man, pressing the now rather hot barrel into the hole I'd shot in him. "I don't want to hear another excuse or lie come out of your mouth."

"I-"

I pulled the trigger again. Eddie clicked his tongue almost in time with the guns empty one. "I wouldn't play games with her pendejo. She's shot more men than you've even tried to fuck."

"You sought out my friend, and you beat him." Those were the facts.

Again he tried to argue, "I didn't even-" Click. "Okay! Okay! Fuckin psycho bitch!"

Click. Click. I could feel him shaking beneath the gun as I picked the knife up from the floor and held it to his throat. "You leave Isaac alone for good now. If you even so much as pass him on the goddamn street, I'll come back here, and I'll slit your worthless throat."

With a pathetic whine and a quick nod, Aaron relented. A sick rush of adrenaline and pride hit me as I stood, handing the gun back to Eddie and pocketing the knife. Eddie gave me a close look for a second, focusing on the blood that I was trying to ignore. “And now?”

“Now you do what you’re good at.”

He smirked, nodding to his boys, who didn’t hesitate to follow his orders. “No permanent damage tonight, boys. Just a good old-fashioned beating like the one they gave to our boy.” He fished an old bandana out of his pocket and held it out to me. “Go get yourself cleaned up, sweetheart. We’ll be right down.”

I took it and turned, eyes locking with Jake’s. Jake. I had almost forgotten he’d come, and then the rush, any good feeling I’d gotten from what happened here tonight, was gone. The shame and guilt and fear. His face revealed nothing about what he thought, eyes closed off, and his posture stiff. I swallowed the lump in my throat and quickly made my way past him down to the corner of the alley, where I was forced to sit by the uncontrollable shaking of my legs.

What was he thinking? I wondered, steadying myself with my hands on the cool pavement. Did he finally see it? The monster I was? Jake walked calmly to my side, lowering himself to sit beside me. With an almost painful sigh, I forced the question out. “Well, what are you thinking”

"I think…" He began, and I closed my eyes and braced myself for whatever hideous word he'd chosen. "That was pretty badass."

"What?" I asked, head shooting up and eyes opening wide, practically gawking up at him.

Jake smiled, sitting beside me and gently wiping some of the blood off my hands with Eddie’s bandana. "Don't look so surprised, princess. You know I like watching you fight."

I shook my head. "That wasn't a fight. That was assault."

"Asshole had it coming after what he did to Isaac. He should consider himself lucky."

"Very lucky," Eddie's voice chimed in as he and his men joined us. "He's alive and won't have any lasting damage. Just like I promised."

I quickly stood up, wrapping my arms around him. "Thanks for showing up. I know it was the last thing you wanted to do tonight."

His strong hand rubbed my back. "On the contrary!" Pulling me off him, he swiped a thumb across my cheek, likely rubbing off some blood. "I've always got time for you, sweetheart. Sabes que."

“Still, you know I appreciate it.”

“I know.” He nodded to his car. “Let’s get outta here before Mav shows up and kicks both our asses.”

“She wouldn’t kick my ass,” I argued. “She actually likes me.”

“Whatever.” He nodded to Jake as he stood, now beside me again. “You didn’t throw up. I’m impressed.”

Jake didn’t look too pleased with Eddie’s slightly condescending tone as he shrugged. “Thanks, I guess.”

The drive back to Ozzy’s was less tense now that Eddie wasn’t actively trying to piss Jake off. They dropped us off at the front door, where Dom and the bikers were assembled, each one of them ready to fight. Eddie made a show of pulling me in for a long hug, and I could practically see his grin at Dom’s angry face. “Don’t be a stranger, sweetheart.”

“Don’t get yourself killed, asshole.”

He laughed as they drove off, and the instant I turned, Dom looked me up and down. “You alright?”

I nodded. “Yeah. You?”

With a tense look on his face, Dom just shook his head. “I’m workin’ on it.”

"So…" Jake said with a tense clearing of his throat as we slowly made our way back inside the bar. "This Eddie guy was a real asshole. How do you know him?"

I nodded as we walked. "Eddie is an asshole, probably the biggest one I've met, but he's actually pretty sweet once you get to know him."

Jake seemed to tense at my words as he stared straight ahead. "So, was he an ex or something?"

"Eddie?" I asked with an arched brow. "An ex? Hell no! I wouldn't fuck that sleaze in a million years, not even in my more adventurous days."

"Why does he call you sweetheart all the time then?"

"Cause I am a sweetheart," I teased, bumping into him until a smile appeared on his face. "Eddie's weird. He gave me that nickname years ago when I almost bit his finger off." His head turned, and I could see the glimmering interest in that story shining in his eyes. "It's a long story. I'll tell you some other time. Anyway, he runs one of the gangs. Mostly Russians but he's got a few hispanic members as well. They're the ones that set up all those fun, highly illegal fights I used to frequent."

Jake seemed to relax as he asked, "What is it with you and gangs?"

I shrugged. "I'm just so likable."

Everyone was still gathered around Isaac, who Prue had bandaged up better. Things were clearly less tense than before, but Quinn and Patrick, in particular, kept their eyes trained on the door, looking out for any sign of trouble. The two guard dogs looked relieved when Jake and I returned, both their hackles slowly lowering as they waved us over. Isaac rose carefully from his seat, and I carefully held the knife out to him. “He won’t be bothering you again.”

Though his face was swollen, I could still see the fear vanish from him as he held that stupid knife to his chest before falling into my arms.

*

Peter watched Isaac closely from the back door, not inside but not entirely outside. Ozzy had found him in the alley shortly after he departed, knowing full well Peter couldn’t just walk away when Isaac was still in such visible pain. The two sat in the alley quietly for hours before Lena returned, and the tension finally resolved among them. No one wanted to just move past what had happened, but after Isaac’s insistence, they did. Everyone but him.

Finally, Ozzy spoke. “You can’t keep this up forever.”

“Keep what up?”

“Quit that,” he scolded. “You ain’t stupid, boy. You know exactly what I mean.”

He was right. Peter knew what Ozzy was referring to… he knew he spoke of the relationship between him and Isaac. It wasn’t bad, not really. The two had slept together multiple times, dated a little, and they’d both decided not to pursue it. Such an easy breakup should be a good thing, right? But Peter wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed how reluctant Isaac was to agree to part ways. He’d noticed every single lingering glance they shared every day that followed over the years. Isaac had visited him just as much as Lena had while he was stuck in the hospital. Isaac had spent the night with him on the nights where he felt particularly weak, and he’d done it all with a loving smile and no complaint. 

Isaac may have agreed to the breakup, but Peter was the one that was responsible. He’d let his fear… his sickness rob them both of something that could have been beautiful. A life.

“What if…” he didn’t even want to vocalize the words. “What if I get sick again? What if I die? I don’t wanna leave him like that, torn up over some lost love.”

Oz nodded, gently reassuring him that those concerns were valid without needing to add words to it. “That is a very difficult thing to get through. Death is always hard. But, there is something worse than losing a love… it’s realizing too late that they were the love of your life. It’s wasting all the time you could’ve had together.”

Peter sighed. “He and I… we tried this already, and it’s too complicated.”

“Life’s complicated, my boy,” Ozzy laughed. “To have someone you love along for the ride is all anyone can hope for. And you love that boy. I can see it. He loves you too, by the way.”

“He does?”

“Course he does,” the old man pinched his cheek. “You’re your father's son, after all.”

Peter felt the tears stinging his eyes as he looked at Ozzy and shook his head. “I’m scared, Dad…”

The old man’s eyes grew glossy within seconds as he held Peter’s head in his hand and nodded. “I know. Oh, I know, my beautiful boy. But, as a foolish old boxer once said: fear ain’t stronger than you are…”

“Fear’s only got the power you give it.”

Ozzy nodded. “You gotta live this life to the fullest, Peter. Live it because it’s the only one you’ve got. You know that better than anyone.”

With a firm nod, Peter felt the anger and the fear in his chest dwindle. “I love you, Dad.”

Enveloping him in a tight hug, the old man sniffled into his shoulder. “I love you too, son.”

He wiped his eyes and made himself presentable as he walked back into the bar, approaching Isaac slowly. The man’s eyes lit up, still so swollen and black and blue, but the same eyes he’d fallen in love with. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” Even after being beaten and ridiculed, Isaac was still so trusting. He followed him out to the alley and met his gaze unflinchingly. “Is something the matter?”

“N-no…” Peter sighed. “I just wanted to apologize for leaving earlier.”

Isaac looked disappointed as he nodded. “Oh, right. Well, I forgive you.”

Silence filled the chilled night between them. Peter shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, imagining his father giving him an encouraging nod and a thumbs up. You can do this, kiddo. He could do this.

*

I was finally able to relax as the situation faded into the past where it belonged. Prue pulled a small bag out of her pocket and held it out to me and Quinn. “Time to draw costumes!”

Quinn pulled a paper out quickly, taking a quick glance at it before shoving it into her pocket. “What’d you get?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She teased with a smug grin.

“Fuckin bitch.” I reached over and pulled a paper out, shrugging at the neatly printed angel.

Quinn relaxed in her seat. “What’d you get?”

I answered her with my middle finger and stood up, heading out the back door to meet up with Jake in the alley. Peter and Isaac were lip-locked by the gym door, happily unaware of my presence as they lost themselves in each other. Just like old times, I wanted to tease, but instead just kept my head down and walked past them.

Jake and Whisky were relaxed on the couch when I walked through the door. Jake nodded to the door. “See your brother and Isaac on your way in?”

“Yeah,” I replied with a soft laugh as I sat beside him, scratching Whisky’s chin. “It’s good to see them back at it.”

“They looked happy.”

“I hope they are.” I snuggled into his side, exhaustion finally taking hold of me. “They deserve that.”

Jake turned to smile down at me, nudging me. “Why don’t we call it a night and get you home?”

“You haven’t even gotten to smoke yet.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind. Besides, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

I groaned when he stood up. “I’m comfy, though!”

With a brilliant look in his eyes, he tapped my knee. “You’re it.”

“You fucker!” I jumped up, hurrying down the alley after him as he ran, Whisky following close on our heels.

*

Jake was sure they looked insane as they chased each other down the sidewalk, narrowly dodging people the whole way to Lena’s apartment, where she finally slapped her hand on his back and breathlessly laughed. “HA! I got you!”

“You did,” he replied, gesturing to the front door. “And I got you to your apartment.”

“How sly,” she replied, shrugging off his leather jacket and tossing it to him. “Here. It’s cold out.”

He held it, quietly appreciating the warmth that still lingered from her body heat. “Thanks.”

“Goodnight, Jerk.”

Rolling his eyes, he shrugged the jacket on. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

She groaned, flipping him off as she closed her apartment door. He was still laughing as a soft meowing and a gentle nudge against his leg made him stop and look down. Hemingway wove between his legs, rubbing his head lovingly on Jake’s jeans. “Hey, bud. Did you follow us all that way?”

Meow.

Jake looked around at the slightly busy street. It wasn’t like the bar. There were more cars and more loud noises that could spook the little cat. So, Jake carefully gathered him up in his arms, tucking him into his leather jacket. “Well, I can’t just leave you out here. Guess you’re coming home with me tonight.”

Carrying the surprisingly calm cat the whole way home, Jake quickly deposited him on the floor of his apartment, hanging his jacket up as Hemingway cautiously sniffed about the new space. While the small creature was hairless, Jake could still tell he had dirt built up on his skin, so he searched his bathroom for a soft soap and got a bath set up for him. 

Getting Hemingway into the bath was more challenging, but thirty minutes and a soaking wet floor and shirt later, the cat was clean. Jake leaned against his counter, shirtless and eating a reheated carton of rice from the Asian restaurant downstairs. He watched the small cat fling himself between the bed and the chair before burrowing beneath the covers and settling with little paw movements that Jake couldn’t help but find adorable. He made a mental list of all the things he’d need to get in the morning to help the cat settle into his apartment, having abandoned the very thought of putting him back out on the street the second he brought him home.

Laying in bed that night with the light snores and purring of the cat buried somewhere in his bed, Jake felt more at ease, finally letting the unexpected stress that the day had brought wash away.

*

Halloween was a popular holiday in the city. New York was always crowded, but on Halloween, it was crowded and filled with costumes, horror, and kids. Hectic and crazy and kind of beautiful. Prue’s apartment was light and colorful, with plants in every corner as Will and I sat across from one another, waiting for her to finish getting dressed.

He was dressed as Fred from Scooby Doo, which meant that Prue 100% pulled Daphne this year. She emerged from the bathroom and squealed happily. The purple dress complimented her skin tone and made her smile pop. She was adorable, and it was obvious that Will agreed by the way he jumped to his feet and met her in the doorway with a smothering kiss.

I averted my eyes, quietly readjusting the small set of wings on my back as the sun began to fully vanish on the horizon. “You two look amazing.”

“You look cute!” She signed back, carefully helping fix my hair and simple white dress. “Just like Juliet in that movie.”

My eyes narrowed. “That’s pretty specific. You and Quinn wouldn’t happen to have rigged the draw… would you?”

She clapped, turning away from me to avoid any more questions. “Time to go!”

Sneaky little bitches! If they’d rigged the costume draw this year, that meant I was going to be in for a long night. 

*

Jake looked at the box sitting on his bed, oddly actually considering putting the costume on and dressing up for the first year in, well, forever. He didn’t, though. It was like he told Quinn he wasn’t a kid anymore, and he sure as hell didn’t do costumes. So he put his leather jacket on and headed to the door. “Behave while I’m gone, Hem.”

The cat continued to play with the toy Jake had gotten him as he walked out the door and headed to Ozzy’s. It was no secret that Jake wasn’t a fan of Halloween, an opinion that Simone greatly influenced all through his youth. The fake scares and the cheap costumes and decorations just never appealed to him. A sign of maturity, as Simone put it. So he moved through the streets, avoiding the festivities and rolling his eyes at the sight of the pumpkins that lined every block. 

Ozzy’s was the only spot he kind of liked seeing decorated. It was clear the old owner put a lot of effort and thought into it, and it certainly brought the business in. The line stretched out and around the block, and he was glad he wasn’t going to have to wait in it. Music and lively celebrations filled his ears as he hurried down the stairs and made his way to the bar where his friends were supposed to meet. Ozzy smiled from behind it, dressed as a skeleton and serving drinks with fake eyeballs in them. “Happy Hallows Eve!”

Jake chuckled. “Happy Halloween, Oz. Where’s everyone?”

“Quinn and Ari are in the booth. Sasha is running around telling people to lift his sheet, and the others are kinda scattered around.”

“Lena here yet?” He asked, ignoring the old man's grin.

Quinn’s voice echoed from behind him, clearly trying to sound like the redhead. “Of course I am!”

Turning he couldn’t help but instantly laugh at her fake red wig and very dramatic interpretation of one of Lena’s outfits. That laughing only intensified as Ari slid into the free space beside her, dressed head to toe in some of his old clothes she’d likely snagged from his locker. “Holy shit.”

“We’re hilarious, we know,” Quinn bragged.

Ari smiled, breaking character. “I’ll put these back in your locker when I’m done with them.”

“Keep em,” he insisted. “They’re old anyway.”

She and Quinn frowned as they looked at his plain clothes. “Did you not get the costume?”

He rolled his eyes. “I got it, but I told you I don’t dress up.”

Quinn made a disapproving sound and folded her arms across her chest. “Fine then, but it’s not us you’re disappointing.”

“I’m sure everyone else won’t care that I’m not dressed up.”

They both smiled as they looked behind him toward the entrance. “I dunno about that.”

He turned, heart-stopping at the sight of Lena standing at the top of the stairs. She was bathed in the lights Ozzy had set up. She was in a simple but stunning white dress with two small wings on her back and her hair delicately half-tied up. An angel. A very specific angel, he realized, turning to look at Quinn, who just nodded at him.

*

I hurried through the crowd and instantly sent Quinn a glare. Her fake red hair was practically glowing beneath the lights as she spread her arms wide and smiled. “Like my costume?”

“You look like a cheap hooker,” I replied.

“Careful,” she warned with the most smug grin I’d ever seen. “These are your clothes.”

Ari emerged from the bar, dressed in a familiar t-shirt and jeans with a leather jacket. “Holy shit.”

“I’m Jake!” She giggled happily.

“I see that.”

Quinn pulled Ari in close. “Should we make out to really sell the act?”

Ari wiggled her brows. “Yes, please!”

I moved past them, meeting Jake’s widened gaze with a hot blush rushing to my cheeks. He was in is normal clothes, not dressed up in anything festive or remotely Halloween themed, just like I’d expected. Hiding the pang of disappointment with a gesture to Quinn and Ari I cleared my throat. “Those two are quite the pair, aren’t they?”

Jake just nodded, casting his eyes down at his feet. “I gotta go.”

“What?” I asked as he made his way past me, quickly heading toward the door. “Okay then…”

The night carried on, and after an hour or two, I decided to finally stop watching the door, hoping Jake would come back. Ozzy slid me another drink as Patrick and Katie finally showed up, dressed Morticia and Gomez from the Addams Family. “You look amazing!”

“So do you,” I replied, meeting her hug.

“Where’s the boy?” Patrick asked, looking around at the sea of people.

I shrugged. “He left.”

Katie frowned. “Not a fan of Halloween?”

“I don’t think so,” I answered, trying not to sound too bummed out. “He didn’t even dress up or anything, so I guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

Patrick’s lips curled into a smile as he nodded to the door. “Oh, I wouldn’t count him out just yet.”

I turned, eyes finding him in seconds as he stood above the crowd on the stairs leading in from outside. My eyes widened, jaw growing slack in awe. He was dressed head to toe in a Ghostbuster costume, Egon judging by the glasses, my childhood crush. He looked like a dork, and I fucking loved it. I…

Shaking my head, I looked at Quinn, who fixed her red wig and nodded me toward the stairs. I should have seen it coming. Of course, she would set Jake and me up in hopes we'd fuck before the bet between her and Sasha expired. As I watched Jake vanish into the crowd, my heart thundering in my chest and my body moving to find him, I realized she might've just pulled it off.

We met in the center of the crowd, bodies all dressed in various costumes, moving to the music beneath the everchanging green, orange, and purple lights. Jake looked even better close up, I quickly realized as my mouth went dry. Quinn 100℅ pulled it off. His eyes trailed down, taking in every inch of my costume while mine did the same with his. “Hey.”

He smiled, looking almost nervous. “Hey.”

“I thought you didn’t do costumes?” I gestured to him.

“Usually, I don’t,” he chuckled. “But, I figured, why the hell not?”

"You know," I started with a burning face as I moved closer and dragged my finger down the buttons of his costume. "I've always wanted to fuck a Ghostbuster."

Jake chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?"

I shrugged, daring to meet his heated gaze. "That your way of saying you're not interested?"

He shook his head. "Oh, I'm interested. Always thought girls in angel costumes were sexy."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know," he replied, distracted. "But I am very interested in seeing that dress above your hips and those legs wrapped around my waist while you moan my name."

I smiled, my body shifting closer to his as if on instinct. "These wings aren't the best quality, but they'd be a good place to pull on, you know, to help bounce me." The on your dick bit of the sentence didn't need to be said aloud for Jake to catch my meaning.

His eyes shifted to them, hands grabbing a fist full of my dress. "That's a very good idea. Though, I am very tempted to just rip it all off you."

"How blasphemous." My eyes were practically glued to his lips. "Meet me in the alley?"

He opened his mouth. "Are you-"

"I'm not drunk or high or anything." I pressed my lips to his, soft and short, pulling away to whisper against them. "I want you."

His fingers traced down my spine, testingly tugging on the base of the wings. "Good, because there's nothing I want more than this."

I pulled back, lifting his head with a finger beneath his chin to correct his wandering eyes. "Don't keep me waiting."

"I wouldn't dream of it, princess."

As I slipped out the back door and practically sprinted through the gym to the alley, no one seemed to notice. I paced, heart racing and body feeling hot even in the cold air, waiting. When the door opened a minute or two later, and Jake closed it behind him, both of us just stood there and watched each other for a minute. I moved first.

My hands fisted into his costume, pulling him down to meet my ravenous lips. His hands instantly pulled my dress up, exposing my bare legs to the October air. With one hand keeping my dress up, he used the other to pull my thigh up to rest along his waist. Jake turned us both, pressing me into the rough brick wall where he pulled his lips away from mine to breathlessly order. “Take your underwear off.”

Suppressing a moan with teeth to my bottom lip, I followed his desperate command and slid the simple pair of panties down my legs, kicking them off to the side and looking up into his black eyes. “Better?” It was meant to sound smug and confident, but instead just sounded so… wrecked.

Jake’s hands slid up higher, fingers gliding along the curve of my bare ass with a nod. His hips pressed into mine, forcing a shocked moan from my lips. “Yeah, that’s better.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, burying my hands back into his shirt and pulling until the buttons popped and his chest was exposed to me.

My hands slid down his shoulders, helping him pull the material off so I could run my nails down his back. “God damn.”

Hoisting me up, Jake used the wall to help steady me as my legs wrapped around his waist, his deft fingers reaching between us to roll his thumb along my already sensitive clit. I ground down on him, the hot moans filling the air between us with fog. “Jake.” I threw my head back, opening my neck to the desperation of his mouth. “Couch. Now.”

He pushed himself back, stumbling until we both flopped onto the couch, his fingers buried inside me as my hands fumbled with the rest of his suit. My hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him in time with each lift of my hips. His mouth fell open, and a sharp gasp filled the alley as his free hand grabbed the base of my wings and started pulling, guiding me up and down. “Fuck, Lena!”

Withdrawing his fingers, his pulsing dick settled between the lips of my pussy, each movement of my hips making the tip of him catch against my clit in a way that made my legs quiver. Our lips hovered over one another, moaning and breathing into each other like it was what our lungs needed. Our dark eyes reflected one another's hunger and our desire, but deeper inside them was an unnamed thing… something so vulnerable and tender that it made the reality settle over us. This was real. This thing between us was more than sex… more than want.

Real.

“Jake,” I whispered, my hand moving between us to help guide him.

“Come on, princess,” he encouraged, roughly tugging on the straps of my dress. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

The gym door slammed against the brick. “GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ONE ANOTHER!”

Sasha’s thick accent made Jake and I freeze, but not in shock or in embarrassment. Rage, pure fucking rage, filled my lungs and Jake’s eyes. “SASHA!”

Quinn and Ari drunkenly grabbed at the Russian. “This is cheating!”

“You can’t just barge in on them!”

“This is America, lesbians! I can do whatever I want!” Sasha yelled, also drunk.

Grinding my teeth together, I moved off of Jake’s lap, ready to start punching people. Jake got himself redressed and grabbed my arms to keep me from lashing out. “Are you guys fucking serious?!” I yelled. “Our sex is not any of your business, and you absolutely have NO RIGHT barging out here when you know we’re-”

Sasha’s watch beeped. Midnight. He cheered and waved his hands in the air. “I WIN! Pay up, you vaginas! I WIN!”

“On my god!” I groaned.

Ari and Quinn fished cash out of their costumes. “You guys couldn’t have jumped on each other like two minutes earlier?”

I pointed my finger at Quinn. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Jake and I spent the remainder of the night bitterly watching everyone else around us enjoy their night, unable to sneak off again because of Sasha’s constant and loud presence announcing to everyone that we almost did it in the alley. If he hadn’t been plastered, I would have punched him. “And I stormed into the alley and pulled them off one another!” He drunkenly proclaimed again.

I still might punch him.

When the time came to go home for the night, I got saddled with the idiots that were too hammered to handle themselves. Quinn, Ari, and Sasha. Of course. The drunken fools rushed down the sidewalk, leaving Jake and me a pissed-off horney mess behind them. The whole walk to my apartment felt like torture as I listened to my friends laugh and tease all the way to my front door. Sasha slammed into it, giggling as he turned to shush everyone else. Fucking idiots. I shook my head and turned to Jake, who looked just as pissed off as I was.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I said somewhat dejectedly as I turned to go inside.

Jake's hand cupped my elbow, gently pulling me back to face him. Our lips connected, fire igniting between them as we both sank into one another. We'd kissed so many times in the past month that this shouldn't have been much different, but it was. This kiss felt the same as our first one had. Raw and too real, filled with something deeper than either of us were capable of admitting. It went beyond want or need… Beyond everything either of us had known up till now.

As we pulled away from one another, our eyes locked, the emotions in them mingling together. Wanting and not wanting. The longer we looked at one another, the more obvious it was that we both had the same realization. Jake's breath fanned across my face as he bumped my forehead with his. "Night, princess."

"Goodnight, tough guy."

*

Peter stood next to Isaac as they looked out at the dark waves from the top of the bridge. They took their time, enjoying the silence and the breeze before Isaac finally lifted his arm and threw the knife off the edge. From where Peter stood, he could almost see the anger and the pain leave Isaac. Their hands intertwined, and the two walked away together, just like they had all those years ago when Peter had stumbled on the suicidal boy with dark curls and eyes that reflected the light so beautifully. 

Hand in hand, they walked away from the painful chapters both of them had been stuck in. Hand in hand, Peter and Isaac shared a look - a promise. They’d face whatever came next together.

Together.

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweet bitter #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake x oc #jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x oc smut #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter oc #sweetbitter sasha

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 18 | Chapter 20

Chapter 19: Shutter Speed

TW: Howard 🙄, Simone 🙄🙄, revenge on a naughty Russian, teasing, girl talk, as always language, mentions of drinking, smoking and sex/sex toys, a bit of errand running, some minor mentions of Jake's bender from chapter 8, some adorable cat content 🐈, slightly drunk/tipsy Lena, some pretty deep conversation/confessions, insecurities, very minor mentions (maybe even more like allusions) of past abuse, and finally the shit y'all are waiting for, sexy photoshoot, lingerie, use of sex toy, a bit of dirty talk, praise kink who? vaginal fingering, some edging, pretty girls cry during sex, some begging, oral (male receiving), mutual masturbation, mentions of cum, aftercare, and last but not least a bit of tooth rotting fluff between our idiots to send y'all off.

Time moved quickly after Halloween. At least, that’s how it felt to Jake. One minute he was with Lena in the alley and the next, he was back at work acting like nothing had even happened. Well, not entirely acting like nothing had happened. He and Lena flirted and played their usual games, but it felt different now that they’d been so close to actually taking the leap. Now, it was almost as if they were enticing one another, trying to shirk the responsibility of making the next move off to the other person… trying to tiptoe on the line between the feeling they both had buried.

Work was the same as it always was, too loud and filled with the ever-chattering gossip of their friends as they spread the information of his and Lena’s almost sexual experience to everyone with ears. Howard looked visibly angry whenever he’d look at Jake, and while the bartender thought his anger was hilarious, he wasn’t thrilled with the turn his attitude had taken. 

The very next day, Howard started interviewing for a new hostess. The sudden influx of interested applications and the manager's willingness to hire someone new didn’t go unnoticed. Jake polished the glasses for the third time, eyes glued to the table where Howard and his newest interviewee sat, making small talk. Something about it all made him feel nervous… like this was part of some larger scheme that Howard had kept up his sleeve, but no one else seemed to think anything of it. 

"My love,” Simone’s voice was soft as she slid behind the bar and offered him a gentle touch to his cheek. “Relax, or you’ll start getting worry lines.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” he answered, brushing her concern off to glare at Howard again.

“It’s about time he started interviewing people,” she noted carefully. “Especially with all the scheduling mix-ups that have been going on.”

Turning his head to glance at her, Jake finally asked, “Have you found anything… off with him?”

Simone simply shook her head. “Not yet. I think he’s trying to be more… discreet than last time. But don’t worry. You’ll be the first to know if there’s anything to know.”

He was grateful to have Simone. She was always so much better at everything than he was. When she’d heard the gossip about him and Lena, Jake was worried she’d be angry, but she simply smiled and offered him a general tip not to be caught with his pants down so often. No fight, no worry, nothing but the love she always bore him. And while he kept his eyes on her, he hoped that this was a sign that the two of them were finally back to how they used to be. Together. No matter what.

Lena hurried through the front door, greeting him and Simone with a quick smile as she made her way up to the locker room. Simone watched him watch her with a knowing grin and a simple gesture for him to hurry after her. His hand brushed against hers, a silent thank you, as he slid past. In the locker room, Sasha was, once again, going on his prideful tangent about Halloween. Heather groaned. "Come on, not this AGAIN!"

"Oh, so I can't be proud of my accomplishments now?" Sasha challenged.

Ari huffed and asked, “What’d you buy with my money?”

Holding the stylish jacket up from his locker Sasha smiled. “I bought myself a new jacket, of course! Shoes too! Tonight I’ll be irresistible to the pretty boys in the club!” He paused and sent a wink to Jake, "Well, almost all of the pretty boys."

Jake waited until everyone else was gone, and Lena had changed into the black dress Howard had set aside for her tonight to speak. “You’re late today.”

“I overslept,” she answered, voice sounding somewhat strained.

He wanted to press it. Wanted to broach the topic she’d seemingly been avoiding for months now, that fearful and pained thing she never dared to speak of - not knowingly at least. But instead, he turned his gaze to Sasha’s locker. “Well, I hope you’re feeling rested. I was going to suggest a bit of payback.”

“Payback?” Her eyes lit up as she turned and looked at him. “I’m listening.”

“Sasha’s been off the rails bragging about Halloween.”

Lena rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Fucking Russian.”

Nodding to the locker, he raised a brow. “Figured between the two of us, we could come up with something to get him back.”

She caught his meaning instantly, and Jake fucking adored it. The two of them hardly needed to speak to understand one another so perfectly. With a grin, she pulled her phone out and sent a quick message to Quinn, he assumed, before glancing behind him to the empty doorway. “Keep him busy for ten minutes, and I’ll get his shit packed.”

Jake turned to do as she said when a little box caught his eyes. The lost and found. Glancing back at her, he kicked it. “Pick some statement pieces out for him?”

“I mean, he does like to stand out,” she replied as she opened his locker. 

“Exactly.”

Their plan went off without a hitch as Sasha was mostly distracted by the late family meal, where he bragged once again about his victory. Jake and Lena were unbothered this time, giving each other a smile over the table before going about their night as though nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Service that night was average. Rich assholes spending rich money on asshole food. Nothing new until the servers scurried off to the locker room while Nicky, Jake, and Lena stood behind the bar cleaning up. Nicky was oblivious to the way Jake and Lena looked at one another, quietly counting down the seconds. “Three…”

“Two…”

Jake smirked. “One.”

"What in the fuck?!" The Russians' loud voice carried through hallways straight to the bar, where Jake watched in absolute delight as Lena burst out into an adorable fit of laughter. It was his favorite kind… the kind that made her nose scrunch up, and her smile practically glow.

The stampede of footsteps hurrying down the stairs and the giggling of the other servers made him turn to look. Will shook his head, taking a seat in front of them. “I hope you two know what you’ve gotten yourselves into.”

“I’ve never seen him get that red before!” Heather laughed.

The last set of footsteps echoed, and then Sasha emerged from the kitchen door with a deep-set scowl. Lena had picked out the best clothes he could have imagined for this moment. A neon orange tank top with a tiny jean jacket, a short - too short - leopard print skirt, and the ugliest green rain boots he’d ever seen. Jake couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, turning to Lena and asking, “Was all that in the lost and found?”

“The jacket was. I had Quinn bring me stuff from the strip clubs lost and found.”

“God, you’re a genius!” He praised, happily watching the blush creep up her neck to stain her cheeks pink.

Sasha was less than impressed as he waltzed over to them and spread his arms out wide with a sneering smile. “Yes, yes, everyone laughs at the mismatched Russian! You and your grumpy have had your fun, Tiger. Now give me my clothes.”

Lena leaned on the bartop and shook her head. “Can’t.”

“What do you mean?” The Russian demanded.

“You’re gonna have to win 'em back.”

Sasha looked over at Jake, who just shrugged his shoulders. “Where are my clothes?”

Lena glanced up at the clock and smiled even wider. “Right now? Hanging behind the bar at Ozzy’s.”

“You red-haired little tiger bitch!” Sasha grumbled. He looked down at his outfit and scoffed. “You’re going to make me walk around like this?”

Jake served a few drinks, offering Sasha a glass of Vodka, the Russian’s least favorite drink. “This is what ya get for being a dick. It coulda been worse. Trust me.”

He cursed them in Russian as he took hold of the glass and downed the vodka with a grimace. “This is cruel.”

Lena, who’d walked around the bar, threw an arm around his back and pinched his cheek. “Aww, lighten up, Sasha! It’s just a bit of fun.”

“Cruel,” he repeated, moving to leave. “Both of you.”

The group slowly made their way toward the door, but Jake caught Howard’s lingering glare. Lena tapped on the bar to get his attention. “Coming?”

Flashing the manager a smirk, he nodded. “Yeah.”

That night walking with the loud and unhinged crowd of friends and coworkers made Jake feel almost childlike. Sasha, still bitter about his clothes, made a fuss whenever anyone looked at him funny - which was often in that outfit. Ari, Heather, and Scott all laughed and cheered him on, calling him a brave boy for making the trek to Ozzy’s "without" whining. 

It occurred to him then that Jake had always felt so separate from them before. He’d show up late to their dinners. He’d skip their shows and put off any personal requests they’d asked him for until they told him just to forget it. Before, he didn’t feel like they were his friends… instead, they were just a means to an end. A show to entertain him when he felt like it.

His brows furrowed, suddenly hit with how horrible of a friend he’d been. Lena’s hand tapping his arm pulled him from the guilt. “You’re it.”

It’d been a while since they’d played tag. So long that he’d forgotten how much he’d started to enjoy it. Lena didn’t run off, instead choosing to walk calmly beside him as he reached out and touched her. “You’re it.”

That beaming smile made him fight one of his own. “You’re it.”

“You're it. No tag backs,” he replied, earning a surprised look. He nodded, looking back at the path ahead. “That’s right, Patrick taught me no tag backs.”

“Damn him!”

Jake laughed, happily listening to her grumble about how rude it was of her brother to ruin her fun. As the group neared the bar, Jake decided he liked this better. And as the night sped onward, filled with drinks and laughter and Sasha’s shitty karaoke performance to win his clothes back, Jake decided he liked the changes in his life. He liked having friends.

*

I wrapped the food Nana put in front of me, keeping my head down and trying - though failing - to keep my mind distracted from what day it was. It happened every year, and while some had been worse than others, I was determined to make this one not as bad as it should be. So, I kept my hands and my head busy. I worked beside Nana, packing to-go orders and helping the customers as Patrick fiddled with the leaky pipes in the bathroom.

"I'm almost finished up in here," Patrick said as he tightened the last screw. "Then Pete and I will head out. You riding with us, sis?"

I shook my head, handing someone their takeout box. "I've got some stuff to do before, but I'll be there before it gets too dark."

Pat nodded. "Sounds good. You and Ozzy could probably ride together."

"I'll ask him when he's getting off tonight."

Quinn leaned against the counter, not helping but not in the way enough for either Nana or me to get mad at her. My phone sat on the counter in front of her, buzzing intently. She glanced at the number and smirked, answering it before I could even say a word. “Hey, handsome, looking for some fun?”

I rolled my eyes as she batted her lashes. “He’s not gonna think you’re me.”

“Course he isn’t,” she purred. “He’d recognize your sexy voice anywhere.”

Wiping my hands, I took my phone and flipped her off. “Hey.”

Jake chuckled. “There you are. I was worried Quinn was gonna start hitting on me for a second.”

“Nah, you’re not her type.”

“Yeah, my ass isn’t nearly as big as Ari’s.”

I giggled, ignoring everyone’s watchful and teasing eyes. “What’s up?”

“Just calling to see what time you’re wanting to come over.”

“Come over?”

“Forget already, princess?” He mocked. “I believe I’m owed a photo shoot.”

My hand slapped my forehead as I cursed myself. “Fuck.”

He chuckled. “We can always reschedule if you’re busy.”

“No,” I insisted, looking at the clock. “I’ve got time.”

“Alright,” he agreed. “What time do you wanna meet up?”

Ignoring Quinn’s quiet questions, I replied, “Well, what are you doing now?”

Jake sounded a bit surprised but answered simply, “Nothing. I do have a few errands to run, though.”

“Ooohhh,” I cooed. “Sounds fun.”

“So thrilling,” he replied. “You’re welcome to join me.”

“I can meet you at Ozzy’s in fifteen minutes.”

“Thirty,” he countered. “I have some smaller things to do first.”

“Thirty minutes then,” I said. “See you soon.”

“See you soon.”

The second I hung up the phone, Quinn was in my ear. “What was all that about?”

Patrick emerged from the bathroom, wiggling his eyebrows. “Sounded like a date to me!”

I shook my head at them while I gathered my stuff. “It’s not a date. I’m just paying a debt.”

“A sexy debt.” I didn’t deny it, essentially confirming Quinn’s words and making her face light up with glee. “Oh my god! Spill it! Tell me what you freaky little sluts are gonna get up to!”

“Oh my god, you’re the worst!” I pointed at Patrick. “I’ll meet you guys there.”

He waved me off. “Go have fun with your boyfriend. I’ll make sure everyone gets where they need to be.”

“Love you!”

“I expect to hear all the details about your dirty hook-up tomorrow!”

“Fuck off, Quinn!” I shouted while laughing. 

My apartment, still cluttered with my old paintings and art supplies, was peaceful as I showered and changed into something a bit more… errand worthy. Long pants and a simple top that would keep me warm enough while Jake and I ran around doing whatever it was he needed to. After I’d managed to brush through my hair, my phone buzzed again.

I apologize for having to ask this on your day off, but we’ve hired a new hostess, and I’d appreciate it if you’d come in and give her a quick tour as well as a short rundown of her duties. Howard.

Sure, I answered, checking the clock. I’ve got some time. I’ll be there in a few minutes.

The restaurant wasn’t too far, and foot traffic wasn’t particularly bad yet, so getting there was quick and hassle-free. Nicky greeted me with a smile the second I walked in. "Mornin', Red. Come to laugh at the lowly serfs?"

"I would never!" I insisted. "I'm showing the new girl around real quick."

He nodded. "I think she's in the office with Howard."

"Thanks," I answered.

Sure enough, the brunette was there, sitting across from Howard as he went over a few finalizing papers with her. Once he saw me standing in the door, he smiled, shifting slightly to close one of his desk drawers before he stood. "Katrina, this is Lena Harrow."

The girl stood and shook my hand. She was cute, with a big smile and soft-looking eyes. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too."

"Lena is well acquainted with this place, so she'll give you a quick tour now before you officially start on Monday." He handed me a piece of paper with the locker number and combination on it, his fingers lingering on my palm for a hair longer as he said, "Thank you again for coming in on such short notice."

"It's no problem," I reassured him. "Follow me."

Katrina had decent experience in the restaurant field, so it was fairly some showing her around. She found her locker with ease and tested the combination a few times before we headed downstairs. I showed her the dining room first, then introduced her to Nicky and gave her a quick crash course on the bar before we settled at the hostess station. Amanda was working tonight, and had just finished changing in time to greet the new girl with me. While I found it slightly odd that Howard needed me while Amanda was here, I shrugged it off and focused on showing her how to go over the guest list. We both gave her tips on greeting people before Amanda got pulled aside.

"It's pretty simple," I told her, trying to help ease her nerves.

She smiled. "Everyone seems really nice."

I laughed and shrugged. "They all have their redeeming qualities."

"Lena," Simone's voice cut through the conversation as she exited the kitchen. "I didn't think you were working tonight."

“I’m not,” I answered. “Just showing Katrina around and helping her get the idea of what her job will look like.”

The blonde shifted, looking at the woman with calculating eyes that I could tell made Katrina feel more uncomfortable than she’d expected. “Howard’s finally hired someone, then?”

Katrina just smiled awkwardly. “Yeah. I hope I fit in around here.”

“I’m sure you will,” she answered, holding her hand out. “I’m Simone. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled, looking away from Katrina as she busied herself with the books to me. "You look adorable. Try not to be nervous, Jake is rather good with this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" I questioned with narrow eyes.

"Oh, don't worry,” she whispered, pulling herself in closer to fix my unruly hair. “I can keep your little date between the three of us." She bared her teeth in a tight smile, one that looked more like a warning than anything else. "Have fun."

I watched her walk away, a tension taking the excitement that had been safely growing within me since Jake's call and twisting it into something completely opposite. Others had insinuated that this was a date but when she did it I suddenly felt… Nervous. Is this a date? I wondered. Does Jake think it is? From then on, I tried to shift my focus to helping the new girl get a hang of the reservations book, but the feeling didn't go away. 

As soon as we’d finished and Amanda had taken over for the night, I waved goodbye to everyone and caught Simone’s predatory, smug gaze as I slid out the front door. I walked to Ozzy’s, trying to forget about the whole interaction while also trying to forget about this whole day entirely and failing miserably at both. I need a drink, I told myself as I hurried down the stairs and into the space. Maybe six.

Quickly moving behind the bar, I grabbed a shot glass and a bottle of tequila. Ian watched me down two, almost three shots before he cursed under his breath. "Holy shit. You good, Lena?"

Carefully breathing out a hot breath, I nodded, giving him a simple thumbs up while I lifted a fourth shot and focused on the alcohol burn inside me. Ozzy's heavy steps echoed from behind, where he placed a careful hand on my shoulder. "It's a bit early to be taking shots, dear. Is everything alright?"

"I'm good, Oz. Just need a little liquid courage." I smiled at him and helped clean up my mess. "You're getting off early tonight, right?"

"Course," Ozzy's smile was slightly more tense than usual, but given the circumstances, I understood. "I'd never be late to this."

"Wanna ride up together?" I asked.

"Actually," he sighed. "I'd like to ride by myself… if that's alright with you."

I squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring kiss on the cheek. "Course it is."

The alcohol made my head swim slightly as I sat at the bar and waited for Jake, focusing instead on Ian’s poor storytelling skills as he recounted his weekend in Las Vegas for a friend's bachelor party. It was nice to hear him talk with such enthusiasm, a thing that I knew today, of all days, would be lacking. Ian had a nice voice, so while he stumbled over his words sometimes or got lost on some long tangent, it didn’t bother me too much. A hand settled on my shoulder, and I lifted my head from off the bartop to find Jake standing next to me.

He glanced at the glasses in front of me and could no doubt smell the alcohol on my breath, but he didn't say anything about it. “Having a bad day?”

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

“Well, I hope you don’t start having one because of me,” he replied with a chuckle. “Like I said, we can reschedule.”

For a moment, all I could picture was Simone’s smug grin and her mocking eyes. For a moment, all I could focus on was the weight of this damn day. But, with a quick and determined shake of my head, I stood up, stumbling slightly. “No, let’s go. It’ll be fun.”

He watched me closely for a second but ultimately nodded. Jake walked close beside me, opting to stay on the side of the sidewalk that faced the street to, in his words, keep me from falling on my ass in the gutter. I wasn’t wasted. He knew that. I wasn’t even drunk enough to be numb or to say stupid shit. It was almost the perfect amount of buzz to get me through the day, hopefully.

We walked a few more blocks before a very familiar and obvious store window came into view. Surely not, I told myself. He wouldn’t… Jake’s steps never faltered as he walked forward, straight toward the sex shop with a shit-eating grin. God damn it. I paused, shooting him a look. Jake only pretended not to understand with a little tilt of his head. “Problem?”

"Seriously, a sex shop?" I asked, sending him a glare. "This is what you do on your days off?"

"Not often," he answered with a smirk. "But today's not a normal day off, is it princess?"

I rolled my eyes. "Riiigghhttt, your silly photo shoot.”

Jake bit his bottom lip. "You're welcome to wait out here if you're embarrassed."

God damn him. I scoffed, brushed past him, and entered the shop with my head high. I'd been in plenty of sex stores, and one of my best friends was a stripper. This was no different from when I’d gone with Quinn or Prue. Not different at all… 

He held one of the lingerie sets up in front of me. “What are you doing?”

“I gotta make sure the color looks good,” he replied with the widest grin. “Plus, I have to imagine what it’ll look like when I get you in it. For photo purposes.”

“Photo purposes, sure.” I shook my head at him, pretending to look at something on a random nearby shelf. “And what makes you so confident I’ll even entertain your lingerie picks?”

Jake leaned forward a bit, ever so slightly brushing the soft silk of the red piece he held against my skin. “Because I’m asking so nicely.”

My jaw clenched slightly as I shrugged my shoulder and turned my head away from him to look at the shelf again, not to avoid getting lured in by his lips or those pretty eyes. “Whatever. It’s your money.”

“Cheer up, princess,” he chuckled, lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “I’ll pick something good, I promise.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I watched him return to his shameless browsing. This is no different, I tried to remind myself. But, if it was so “not different,” why was my heart racing? Why did my cheeks burn when he’d pause to glance at me or hold a flimsy piece of lingerie up to test the color against my skin tone? Why did I feel this… nervous? I decided not to focus on what Jake was doing, instead just aimlessly looking around the store until he finally nodded toward the exit, holding his bag of purchased goods like a trophy. 

As we headed toward the next location, I tried to peek in the bag. “Well, what did you get?”

He pulled it away. “I’m not gonna let you ruin the surprise!”

“Oh, come on!”

“Sorry, princess. Maybe you should pay more attention.”

“Asshole.”

*

Jake had no idea what he was doing anymore. At first, the vision of what he’d wanted tonight to be like was so clear. After Halloween, it seemed so simple. He wanted Lena, and Lena wanted him. Yet, now that they were both here, it all seemed more complicated. He’d caught on fairly quickly that Lena wasn’t acting like her usual self. She seemed more distracted, and she’d clearly taken a shot or two before he’d showed up at the bar. 

Whatever it was that made her feel so different, Jake felt determined to make sure she knew he cared. The last thing he wanted was for her to go through with whatever their day together held and regret it later. The mere thought made his stomach twist in knots. 

The sex shop had been a fun tease but had also provided him with a tiny opening to getting her out of this shell of tension she’d wrapped herself in, as well as to pick up a few tricks for later, obviously. And while she still held onto some tension as they walked to the camera shop down the street, Jake could tell it had helped a little.

He held the door open for her and followed her inside, watching as she took in the space with quiet appreciation. Jake watched Lena weave through the shelves, bright eyes sparkling at the sight of antique cameras and equipment. She didn't even know what any of it was or what it did, but her genuine curiosity was obvious. 

In truth, he appreciated her genuine curiosity more than she would ever know. The only other person that had entertained his hobby was Simone, and even then, she only entertained him just long enough for him to get his picture of her on the beach in the mermaid costume, and then she’d pleaded with him to never bore her with it again. 

He walked straight to the counter, greeting the old man with a respectful nod. "Good to see you, Steve."

The man grumbled. "Here for your film?"

"Yeah," he replied, glancing over his shoulder at Lena. She kept her hands at her sides, but Jake could see the way she wanted to pick up each new thing and examine it. She'd once said he was observant and curious but, in his mind at least, she was the one that wanted to look at everything new until she understood it.

Behind his glasses, Steve watched him. "She with you or somethin’?"

"Or something," he replied.

Shaking his head, Steve dug around in a box. "She's outta your league."

Jake nodded. “Don’t I know it?”

“Least you ain’t as stupid as you look.” The old man set the film down in front of him and held his hand out. “Fifty.”

“You said it was only gonna be thirty on the phone.”

“Yeah, well, I lied. It’s fifty.”

He fished the money out of his pocket and set it in Steve’s hand. “Go to hell.”

The old man laughed. “I’ll save you a seat.”

Lena followed him out, asking questions about the various cameras she’d seen inside and the equipment that went with them. Jake took the time to explain it to her, promising to teach her a few things during their photoshoot, something that seemed to excite and terrify her. “So,” she asked carefully. “Where next?”

“Home bar.”

She made a face. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

With a groan, she followed along. “Alright, fine.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“No,” she agreed. “It’s got some… fond memories, but it’s still not Ozzy’s.”

"It's definitely not Ozzy's," Jake said with a chuckle. "Ozzy's has the best memories."

*

The bar was oddly crowded for three o’clock, but the types of people that hung around bars that early were the type that would usually stay as long as you let them. Jake greeted the bartender with a passive smile. “Hey, Viv.”

“Ah, shoulda known that bottle in the back was yours.” The woman gestured for him to go around and grab what he needed. “Don’t fuck anything up.”

Jake made a face, shrugging his shoulders. “I dunno if I can help myself.”

Whipping him with the bar towel, she shooed him away and turned her gaze toward me. "So you're her, huh? Lena?" The woman asked with a wide grin. "The famous redhead."

I tilted my head curiously. "Have we met?"

She shook her head, chuckling to herself. "No, but last time I saw Jake, he was pretty smashed and just kept talking about his redhead. His Lena.

My heart practically stopped beating as I stared, dumbfounded. "I… We… What?"

"It was cute," she insisted, looking over her shoulder at him. "I haven't seen him like that in, well, ever. It looks good on him."

Looking over at Jake as he found the bottle he’d been looking for, I admired his smile and the way his face looked so gentle when he wasn’t in the restaurant, trying to keep up his charming and uncaring persona. “Yeah… It does.”

She slid two shots across the bar with a kind smile. “On the house.”

“Thanks.” I downed the drinks quickly as Jake came back, and it was time to hop along to the next errand he had to run.

Bags in hand, Jake and I continued walking, making small talk. It reminded me of the first time we’d done this… spent time just running errands and enjoying the simplicity of each other's company. No expectations, no stress, just us. Suddenly Jake stopped and pointed to a pet store. “I gotta run in here real quick.”

“Do you have a pet?” I asked, face scrunching up in confusion.

“Oh, right, guess I didn’t tell you. I… uh… Took Hemingway home a few weeks ago.”

I faked a gasp. "You stole one of my brother's feral street cats?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "I didn't steal him. He followed me."

"Likely story, thief."

"You coming with or not?"

Nodding my head furiously, I followed him inside. Jake got the best cat food he could find, picking up a few toys along the way while I grabbed a small pack of cat nip and four of the most adorable sweaters I could find. I held them all up to Jake first, sticking my lower lip out. “Imagine how cute he’ll look in these!”

Jake gave me an endearing look and nodded along. “He’ll look great IF he’ll let you get anywhere near him with those.”

“He loves me,” I assured him. “Plus, I’m very persuasive.”

“Sure you are, princess.”

After paying and going on our way, Jake seemed to get quiet. “You okay?”

He sighed. “Last chance to reschedule. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything.”

I smiled at him, finding his constant need to reassure me that I was the one in control of this whole situation more adorable than I should have. “I don’t want to reschedule.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

From there, I could feel the tension between us lessen, and Jake seemed to get actually excited to show me his apartment. When he opened the front door, I wasn’t really sure what to expect, but then I saw it, and it just made sense for him. The apartment was small, nestled above some Chinese palace and what looked like an old laundry mat. The exposed brick felt warm and inviting, while the walls of shelves that housed every book and all the pictures and knick-knacks he’d deemed important enough to display made the space feel genuine. 

Some apartments felt staged and sterile, free of any and all personality, but not his. The tiny kitchen with a small island was off to the right, two stools were the only dining table I could see, and behind it was clearly the door to the bathroom. The left side was where all his shelves were, as well as a small coffee table for him to set things on. Straight ahead was his bed and an old, clearly worn leather chair with more shelves and an old guitar behind it, carving out a bedroom within the one-roomed space. Old hardwood floors were accentuated with patterned rugs and a few stacks of books that Jake was currently invested in.

He set his bags down and awkwardly gestured to the space. “Well, here it is.”

My eyes instantly started scanning the shelves, admiring the pictures that he’d taken over the years and gently running my fingers along the spines of his books and the small shells. “It’s very… you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” I replied, giving him a smile over my shoulder. “It’s all so unique and personal. Kinda feels like I’m walking through your head right now.”

Jake made a face. “I think I’d be a lot dirtier if we were in my head.”

“Shocking.”

A light pressure pushed into my ankles, and a loud purr echoed in the apartment as Whisky came out from his hiding place and began rubbing his head on me. “Hey, little guy. I was wondering where you’d run off to.” I leaned down and began scratching at his little head. “I’m surprised you let the big grump take you home.”

Still unpacking some of the bags, Jake scoffed. “Hemingway likes me.”

“Whisky,” I corrected. “Likes a lot of people.”

“He likes me best, though.”

I rolled my eyes and reached around Jake to grab one of the sweaters. “Wanna try on one of your outfits?”

Whisky hissed.

Getting it on wasn’t difficult, but as I held the floppy cat in my arms, trying to convince him to stand up, I realized the stubborn nature of the animal was going to be the hard part. "Oh, come on," I laughed as the cat rolled out of my arms and tossed himself to the ground without warning. "You look cute!"

Whisky hissed, claws digging into the knitted material, trying to tug it off him on his own. Jake glanced over his shoulder with a grin at the sight of the cat. "Told ya he'd hate it."

I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't hate it. He's just not used to it. So, we'll keep the sweater on for a little longer and ease him into it."

He hissed again, glaring at me. From the kitchen, Jake chuckled. "I don't think he likes that idea."

Whisky flipped again, swatting the air and grunting wildly as he scooted across the rug, trying to find traction. Still giggling, I reached out for him. "Okay, okay! Hold still, I'll take it off."

Once his little body was free of the cursed material, he hissed again and scampered into the kitchen, leaping onto the counter and taking refuge behind Jake. I could see his ears and the tops of his eyes as he poked his head out to glare at me."Seriously?" I asked. "He bought it, you know!"

"Wow, torture and lying? That's a new low,” Jake teased as the cat's eyes narrowed and looked between the two of us, seemingly weighing his options. "Don't listen to her, Hem. She's just trying to trick you into liking me less."

"I don't need to lie," I insisted. "He likes me better than you anyway."

"Sure, princess," he replied with a shake of his head as he started making drinks for us.

I put the sweater back in the bag and pushed it as far from me as I could. "There. No more clothes." Whisky still didn't move. "Fine, guess you don't want any of this." I shook the little pouch of catnip.

Like a moth to a flame, Whisky came running. He rubbed his nose all over the pouch, peeing at it impatiently. Jake laughed. "You really gonna use drugs to make my cat like you better?"

Dumping a small amount out onto Jake's carpet, I watched Whisky sniff in it and roll around. "He was technically my cat first, you know. I helped feed him."

"And yet I'm the one he lives with."

"Because you snatched him!"

Jake just rolled his eyes at me and finished mixing the drinks. He turned, walking toward the cat and me, holding the glass out to me. "Cherry bourbon."

"Thank you." I took a generous sip, catching the quick look of worry in Jake's eyes before he moved his attention to the cat. Whisky was a good middle ground to distract us both from what was on our minds. "Sorry for making you play bartender on your day off."

"I don't mind," he said, nursing his own drink. "But I might have to cut you off after that one."

"Oh?"

"Oz told me you'd had a few drinks before I showed up. That plus the two shots you had at Home Bar and this… I'd say you're feeling pretty tipsy right about now."

I shrugged, trying to seem casual about everything. I didn't want to dive into the mess right now. "It's been kind of a day for me. Sorry."

"I know I’ve said it like a hundred times today, but we don't have to..." He sighed, scratching the cat's back. "You don't have to do anything. We could just watch a movie or play with the dumb cat. The photo shoot was just... Impulsive. I didn't even think-"

"I want to do it," I corrected, finally finding the courage to look at him. "That's not... I... I'm just… a little bit… camera shy."

Jake's grin made my cheeks burn. "You? Lena, goddamn Harrow, are camera shy?"

"It's not funny!" I hissed, kicking him.

His laughter eased the nervousness slightly. "It's kinda funny. I mean, I've seen you punch bikers and threaten gang assholes, but you're scared of a few pictures?"

I rolled my eyes, resuming the attention I paid Whisky. "I'm not scared of pictures! I just…" The playfulness was gone now. Old wounds now laid bare and unavoidable. With a deep sigh, I finally committed. "I don't want anyone to see me like that. Exposed and vulnerable. Posed like some trophy… Some thing to be used… Like I'm not me."

Jake was quiet for a moment, eyes carefully fixed on the cat that lounged between us. "I wouldn't do that to you. Whatever pictures I take… They're not for anyone but us. Hell, I won't even look at them if you don't want me to." Gently lifting my chin with his finger, our eyes locked. Bright blue eyes shimmered back at me, sincerity wrapped up like a present and held before me. "As for the posing, I think it'd be a waste to try and erase the you from anything. The whole point of taking any pictures is to capture you. Your tattoos, your smile, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh."

As if it were some reflex I couldn't suppress, I felt my nose scrunch as an embarrassingly loud laugh forced its way from me. Jake's smile widened. I shook my head and regained control of myself. "Sorry, that was kinda loud."

"It's okay," he answered. "My neighbors hate me anyway."

"I'm guessing it's from the noise you and all those pretty girls you bring back here make." The teasing helped shift the focus from me and helped me gain some tiny sense of control.

Jake shrugged. "Probably, but fuck 'em. They're just jealous."

Rolling my eyes, I scratched beneath Whisky's chin. "There's that complex of yours."

With a chuckle, he set his camera on the chair. "What are you thinking?"

I debated making another teasing remark to deflect his question, but Jake would see through that. Whether or not he'd press it didn't matter. He'd know. And I'd know that he knew. So, I kept my eyes glued to the cat and just opened my mouth. "I'm thinking that you have a vision in mind for tonight, and… I… I don't want to disappoint you."

"I'm not your mom." His voice was steady, calm. It didn't hold any expectations or signs of annoyance at my pitiful, slightly drunk, stalling. "This isn't a performance, Lena. And, just for the record, you could never disappoint me."

"What if they turn out bad?" I asked, holding the sting of tears back.

"Again, I don't think that's possible. But, in the very unlikely chance they suck, it'll still have been a good time."

I sighed, pressing my hands to my face with an embarrassed groan. "God, I must look like such a mess."

"You're beautiful, Lena."

Beautiful. The word was soft, warm, and safe. Unlike all the other times I'd been called that - by my mother or Tony or even Francois and Sam - this one felt real, and I suddenly felt so… Seen. How do you do that? I wanted to ask him. How do you see me without knowing all I've done? How do you see me the way no one else does?

My hands fell away from my face; embarrassment lulled to sleep by the sight of Jake's sparkling eyes. Waves of crashing emotion stared back at me, sharing every feeling he felt and every thought he didn't say. His eyes repeated the same sentence, the same feeling as if it were some simple rule… Some law of the universe. You're beautiful.

I cleared my throat and clumsily stood, taking the cat with me. My head spun, the alcohol filling me with a dizzying sense of numbness. Blinking the tears away, I set Whisky down on the chair next to Jake's camera and asked, "So, uh, what do we do first?"

He stood, quietly reaching out to steady me with one hand while the other grabbed the sex shop bag. "You go get changed. I'll clean up and get my stuff ready."

"Which one do you want me in?" I asked, digging through the bag. "Holy shit Jake, how many did you buy?!"

With a modest shrug and a wide grin, he gathered up our glasses. "I imagined you'd look good in all of them, so I just grabbed the ones I liked most."

My mouth hung open slightly as I stumbled over my words. "There's like five in here. Lingerie isn't cheap!"

"What was it you said?" He hummed. "Right, it's my money."

"Let me at least pay for half," I offered, hazily searching for my bag.

Jake scoffed, setting a hand on my lower back when I nearly tripped over his rug. "Cool it, princess, before you hurt yourself."

I huffed in his face. "Seriously, let me pay."

"What kind of bartender would I be if I let a pretty girl like you pay?" He teased with a chuckle.

"Jake-"

"Lena," he interrupted. "Don't worry about it. Now come on, go get changed, or we'll lose the good light."

I huffed again and carefully made my way toward his bathroom. "I'm gonna slip the cash in your pocket or something before I leave."

"I'll just give it back to you at work."

Quickly flipping him off, I closed the bathroom door behind me, settling into the quiet space with a shaky sigh. "You can do this," I muttered to myself, looking around his bathroom for a minute - a poor attempt to try and calm my nerves.

I would have expected Jake's bathroom to be like most city bachelors were. Dirty and cluttered and very obviously not well maintained. But, it was shockingly not what I'd expected. The floor was swept and looked freshly mopped. The sink was free of hair and toothpaste, the white contrasting against the red brick and dark tiled floors. Dirty clothes were in a hamper, and all of Jake's things looked organized. 

Once the initial surprise wore off, I dove right into the bag Jake had given me and forced myself to push past the nervous pit in my stomach. Jake had bought five separate pairs of lingerie, each a different color and design. Two of them I put back in the bag immediately. They were both very beautiful but had no room for error. If I made one sudden move, my tits and bits would be fully out on display, and while it wasn’t anything Jake hadn’t already basically seen before, I still decided to spare myself the heart attack.

After a minute of consideration, I narrowed it down to two pieces. One a modest dark red with frills of black lace and structured boning that would accentuate all the right places. The other a silky green with a low-cut neckline and a more floral design. My eyes felt more drawn to the red, the design reminding me of the dress I’d worn to the club, and in the very back of my mind, I heard Jake’s multiple previous comments about how much he enjoyed the color red on me. Still, I held it up to my body and looked at it in the mirror for a minute longer. 

Red it was.

I put the rest back in the bag and set it down on the tiny sink counter, changing into the soft material with ease. It was flattering and fit well. The bottoms were like shorts, but the kind that was far more like a pair of underwear that really showed off your ass, and the top was like a crop top but a lot more… durable. With a deep breath, I looked at myself in the mirror, toying with the fabric and my hair before just deciding to commit. “You can do this.”

When I opened the bathroom door, I half expected Jake to break his neck trying to peek at what I’d chosen, but he just kept his eyes trained on the task he was doing. He lifted the camera up to his eye for a quick glimpse before he lowered it and messed with the small machine for another minute. The floorboards creaked as I took a few tentative steps out into the main room, drawing his attention to me.

If looks could kill, then I would’ve died right there. He looked me up and down, mouth falling open slightly as he nearly dropped his camera. Jake looked at me like I was a piece of art… a sculpture of polished marble… something so perfect he couldn’t believe it was real.

With a burning hot face, I tucked my hair behind my ears. “I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with my hair, so I just… left it.”

My voice seemed to shake him out of the daze as he nodded, licking his lips. “You’re perfect - your hair… you…” He scratched his head. “You look perfect.”

“Okay,” I chuckled nervously. “Now what?”

“Now…” he lifted his camera up one last time with a tiny smile. “We take some pictures.”

I took a few steps forward, looking at the camera closely. "You gonna teach me some stuff?"

Jake looked distracted, eyes darting between my face and my body, but he nodded. "It's pretty easy with newer cameras. You just point, make an adjustment or two and push the button. The shuttered clicks, and boom, a picture."

Holding my hand out, I smiled, feeling a small surge of something that made my nervousness slowly start to fade. "Can I try?"

"Course," he said, setting the camera in my hand and showing me how to hold it.

I lifted the camera to my eye, looking at him through the lens and mimicking his movement before snapping the picture. "You're pretty even on camera."

He laughed. "Was there any doubt?"

"Course not," I replied, brushing my fingers against his skin as I returned his camera. "Well, master photographer, where do you want me?"

Jake considered his options for a minute, his pretty blue eyes sparkling in the setting sunlight. He traced the light and pulled his chair over slightly to get the perfect angle. "Right here."

A chair. Simple enough. I moved to sit when he held up a smaller bag. I recognized the sex shop's logo and looked at him quizzically. "What's this?"

"Another one of my impulsive moments."

I opened the bag, staring down at a small vibrator and remote. "Really?"

He shrugged. "I think it'd be fun."

"Why's that?"

"It'd give me a chance to capture that face you make when you're right there on the edge." His eyes focused on my lips.

Tilting my head to return his attention to my eyes, I smirked. "And that's an expression you like?"

Jake chuckled. "One of many."

I grabbed the toy and remote, setting the bag off to the side before holding the remote out to him. "I'm assuming you'll want that."

"Absolutely." He watched as I moved to the chair, getting in a position that would make getting the toy in the right spot a bit easier. I half expected him to look away, to give me a moment of privacy like he had earlier, but instead Jake watched, eyes dark and hungry. "Need a hand?"

"I know my way around sex toys, Jake," I replied, easily getting it situated without breaking eye contact with him. "Now what?"

He hummed, thumb stroking over the remote for the toy, pressing one of the buttons experimentally. The damn thing pulsed to life between my thighs, pressing perfectly against my clit. I gasped, and Jake smiled, turning the toy off again. "Just making sure it works."

"Sure."

Then he stepped forward and carefully examined the area, mind working to come up with determination. He reached out and slid his hand along my leg, moving it to cross over my other one. "Leg there." He urged me to shift, leaning on my legs just enough for my hair to fall over my shoulder and my chest to pop out. "Right there."

"Try to get my face in the picture," I teased as he stepped back, lifting the camera to his eye and making some adjustments. 

The sunlight nearly blinded me entirely as it continued falling, ricocheting off the glass buildings. "Alright, look to the left. Keep your features as still but relaxed as possible."

I smirked. Click. "That's pretty vague."

"Just relax. Be yourself." 

Just before I could open my mouth again with another tease, I heard another soft click and felt the toy start again. My eyes shifted, looking right at Jake as I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. 

Click.

God damn him. "Starting already?"

He looked down at his camera screen with a pleased smile. "Yep. Next pose."

Time felt like it moved faster as Jake casually worked through a few poses. The toy steadily hummed between my thighs, slowly building my body up. My nervousness was entirely replaced by the pleasure of the toy and the soft praises Jake whispered after every shot. As I lay across the arm of the chair, legs dangling over the opposite side, my body bathed in the low reddish orange sunlight, all that building pleasure started coming to a head.

I could feel my legs starting to tremble and my chest rising and falling in heavy breaths as I tried to refrain from moaning.

"You're close, aren't you?"

"Yes," I whispered, not even an answer to his question, more a breathy plea.

I heard the mechanical click of his camera's shutter, but the sound only made the pleasure of the vibrations feel more powerful. Another click echoed, and within seconds the toy moved quicker against my clit. With a raggedy breath, I dropped the pose Jake had put me in, back arching off his chair as my nails dug into the coarse leather that felt too good against my skin.

Click.

"We should have done this months ago," he said quietly, reaching out to pull me into another position. His touch felt too good. Soft and lingering while at the same time firm as he positioned me again, fingers ghosting over my nipple and dragging across my skin to tilt my head toward him. “Look at me, princess.” My eyes couldn’t have closed even if I wanted them to, staring into the soft glow of Jake’s camera lens. “Good girl.”

My legs pressed together, something Jake noticed judging by the smirk he hid behind the camera and the instant press of the button again to make the toy stop between my thighs. “Fuck!”

Jake chuckled. "You didn't really think I was gonna make it that easy, did you?"

"I was hoping," I admitted with a sigh, bringing my arm to rest behind my head. Click. "Are you going to make me beg?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Scoffing at the smug tone of his voice, I carefully slid back into a normal sitting position. "Well, why don't you let me take a few pictures while you figure out what you want."

His smirk was wide and beautiful as he chuckled. "You wanna play photographer?"

"Maybe." I held my hand out and puffed my lower lip out to pout at him. Click. "I promise I won't break it."

Switching places, Jake got comfortable in his chair, leaning back to watch me as I curiously did my best to figure out the camera. Each photo I took seemed blurrier than the last, but Jake made for an excellent model. He took the initiative, changing his position after each click of the shutter. He kept it quite minimal, and maybe it was the alcohol, but I thought he looked good in every pose. 

Too good.

I found myself gravitating toward him, mindlessly snapping pictures that I wasn't even sure he was in the frame of. With that dumb smirk, his hands slid up the backs of my thighs, tugging me down into his lap. "You seem distracted."

God I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to do so much more than that. "I'm not-"

A soft click echoed in the room, and the faint buzzing of the toy resumed. My eyes closed tightly, a sharp gasp escaping my throat as my fingers curled into Jake's camera. "What was that?"

"You're the worst," I bit out, holding in a moan.

Jake was insufferable as he nodded, his free hand setting the camera off to the side before caressing my cheek as he upped the intensity and listened as I finally lost control. "You want me to stop then?"

"No!"

His thumb pulled on my lower lip. Dark eyes focused on them entirely. "Say please, then."

I ground my teeth together, holding onto that last sliver of defiance. Jake's brow arched, and he moved his finger to the off button. My hand reached out and covered his. "Don't!" The pleasure was building quickly now. Just a little more, and I'd come.

Jake wasn't relenting. "Don't what?"

"Please," I finally whispered, my hips gently bucking against his body, searching for something to keep the vibrations focused where I needed them. "Please don't turn it off again."

"Mmm," he groaned, hands moving to grab my hips and help me find the spot I was looking for. "That's my girl."

It wasn't a promise not to turn the toy off, but my slightly intoxicated and pleasure-filled brain didn't register that at first. So, I moaned and moved my hips, ready to give into the wave of pleasure that was just right there.

Click.

The vibration stopped, and no matter how frustratedly I ground my hips down, the movement alone wasn't enough. With a soft whine and a frustrated breath, I shook my head. "You asshole."

"Sorry, princess," he murmured against my neck. "I just couldn't help myself."

Fuck this! I lowered my head and pressed my lips to his. Both of us surrendered to each other - to the blissful feeling of having our lips on one another - and sank fully into the moment. His fingers tangled into my hair, tugging just enough for the slight sting to feel good. My hands clumsily reached between us, trying to undo his pants.

"I think you're a bit too drunk for that," Jake breathed, moving his hands to stop me.

A pathetic whine bubbled up out of my throat as hot tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I tossed my head back. "Please!" God, I sounded fucking insane. "Jake, please!"

He groaned against my throat, forcing deep breaths in and out of his lungs as he held my hands firmly in his. "Fuck, you're making this harder than it needs to be."

I tilted my head back down, drunkenly bold enough to press my lips to his in a deep, drawn-out kiss. He could no doubt taste the alcohol on my tongue, which didn't exactly help me. Panting, I pulled away, pressing my lips anywhere I could get them, still fighting back tears. "I want you," I whispered against his skin. "Please."

Finally releasing my hands to cup my cheeks, Jake had the nerve to chuckle at the sight of my tearful eyes. Suppressing a grin, he wiped the corners of them with his thumbs. "Oh, don't cry, princess! I can think of other ways to relieve some of that tension."

Other ways? Other ways? I didn't want his fingers or his mouth. I wanted him to stretch me open with the generous amount of dick he'd been blessed with at birth. I wanted to feel every inch of him pulsing inside me. I wanted him to fuck me so hard it hurt. I wanted him. Hazy from the alcohol and the multiple almost orgasms, I couldn't think of the words to vocalize this burning need in my lungs, so I just dumbly repeated myself. "I want you."

"You have me," he said, hands gliding across my skin and fisting in the thin material of the lingerie. His head tucked beneath my chin, teeth grazing my peaked nipple as he pulled me forward, grinding me down on the bulge I wanted to impale myself on so badly. "God dammit, do you have me."

My body slid down his, pressing sloppy kisses down his neck and across his still-covered chest until my knees hit the floor. Our eyes locked, both of us breathing heavily as I once again started undoing his pants. "Then let me have you."

All he could do was nod his head as I palmed him through his pants, taking my time to free his soft and achingly hard dick from his pants. It felt like the first time we did this. It felt better than the first time. 

Jake's fingers dug into the arms of his chair as I slowly licked him from base to tip. My tongue curled around the head of him, dragging against it almost torturously slowly. I could hear his blunt nails scrapping the leather. I had him exactly where I wanted him.

As soon as I took him into my mouth, Jake's hands were in my hair. He clutched me desperately as those pretty sounds echoed around us. I'd forgotten how unashamed he was about making noise. Each one of them went straight to my already-soaked cunt. There was a soft click, and the toy vibrated, albeit lowly, against my pussy. 

I moved to pull back, eyes pinching shut and a moan stuck in my throat, but Jake's hands held my head in place as he rocked his hips forward, urging me to take all of him. My eyes watered. Pleasure coiled in my gut like a snake as Jake looked down with a half-lidded gaze. "That's it." I made a low sound. "You can take it."

God! I could feel him start to pulse, and I wanted nothing more than to swallow every drop he had to give me, just like I had the first time. But Jake had other plans. With a hiss, he pulled me off him, saliva pulling like strings between me and him. He pulled me up, seating me on his lap and pressing the buttons on the toy again, making the vibration stronger and faster. 

I collapsed into him, my hand reaching between us to stroke his still-wet cock as he pulled my pants to the side and carefully maneuvered around the toy to shove his fingers inside me. "Jake," I gasped. "I… won't last… long."

"Me neither," he groaned. "God, you're so fucking beautiful."

My heart pulsed, a new kind of tear stinging my eyes. "Say it again."

His blue eyes held my gaze as he happily, stupidly said again, "You're beautiful."

It was embarrassing how quickly I came, head thrown back and my hand gently squeezing him. Jake turned the toy off, holding tightly onto me as my legs shook around him. Once I'd come down from the high, I started moving my hand again, more determined to feel him paint me with his cum.

"God," Jake said as his head hit the back of the chair. "Lena!"

I carefully leaned into his chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his throat. "Come on, pretty boy." My teeth latched onto his earring, sucking gently and listening to that absolutely perfect whine. "I want it." My lips hovered over his, eyes drinking in the sight of him so wrecked below me. "I want you."

With a loud groan, he pulled my head the rest of the way down, kissing me like his life depended on it. His hips stuttered below mine, and hot strings of his pearly white cum exploded between us, coating us both in the sticky release. My hand carefully worked him through the orgasm until he shuddered beneath me and went limp against the leather chair.

For a minute, all we could do was lay there, heavy breaths fanning across each other's faces, exchanging fucked out looks. For a minute, I could ignore the tiny sting of disappointment that we hadn't actually fucked each other because of me. But Jake didn't seem to care as he smiled up at me. His hands gently kneaded my still, slightly shaking legs, silently appreciating me in the now almost completely faded light. He reached over, grabbed the camera, and breathlessly looked through the pictures we'd taken.

"If you show anyone those photos, I'll kick your ass." It sounded confident and badass, but there was a softer, far more vulnerable tone that hid beneath it all. One Jake saw in an instant.

His smile was smug and prideful, but I could see that gleam of reassurance in his eyes as he said, "Don't worry, princess. Those are our eyes only."

"Our?" I asked.

Jake nodded, still visibly catching his breath beneath me. "You got a few good shots. They're blurry as hell but in an… artistic way."

I slapped the side of his chest, laughing breathlessly as my legs slowly began to stop shaking. "Asshole!"

"Artistic is good!" He insisted, setting the camera back down. "It suits you."

"Uh-huh."

The two of us just sat there for a minute, watching each other in that soft sort of way that made me feel tingly. Then, Jake tapped my hip, and his smile turned smug. "Think you can stand?"

Of course, I can! I wanted to say, but the numb tingle - a result of the overstimulated orgasm - made my legs feel like jello. "I…" Jake's brow twitched upward. "No… I don't think I can."

His chest swelled with pride as he wrapped his arms around me and slowly rose from his chair. "Hold on."

I clung to him as he maneuvered around the shit on the floor and walked us to his bathroom. He set me on my feet, holding me tightly as I adjusted to the blood rushing through them again, and quietly urged me to lean against the wall. Once he was sure I wasn't going to tip over, he started the shower, adjusting the temperature a few times before he was satisfied and turned his attention back to me.

Maybe I should have felt awkward about Jake peeling the sticky lingerie off me… Maybe I should have felt embarrassed by the fact that I was now naked in his bathroom, but I didn't. He tossed the fabric in one of his hampers and stripped himself beside me. Leaning against the wall beside his shower, I watched him, shameless in my admiration of his lean build and lovely tattoos. The alcohol made it easier to say the words I'd been thinking. "You're pretty."

Jake glanced up at me with a surprised chuckle. "And you're shameless. What happened to no peeking?"

"I was always gonna peek," I replied, giggling so hard I practically snorted.

Shaking his head at me, he tossed his clothes in the hamper and carefully helped me step into his tub, gentle hands lingering on my elbows as he guided me into the spray of hot water. I shivered as his hands stroked my skin. "Is it too cold?"

"No," I answered, relaxing into his soft body. "It's perfect."

"Good," he answered with a surprisingly gentle kiss on my shoulder.

Jake lathered soap on his hands, carefully scrubbing the residual stickiness off my body. He scrubbed himself as well, not once complaining that I was hogging the steady stream of hot water. Once I felt slightly more confident in my footing, I turned, letting the water douse my unruly hair as Jake massaged shampoo into his own.

I watched his muscles flex with his movements, mesmerized by how goddamn pretty he was. When he suddenly reached out and pulled me close, I jumped, slightly startled. Jake only smiled at me with a mumbled apology as he twisted, changing our positions in a second. He tipped his head back into the warm water, rinsing the suds from his hair and letting the hot water relax the knots in his back.

Without thinking, I reached out and traced his Adam's apple, admiring the little bruises already beginning to form in the shape of my teeth. I curled into his slick body, pressing my lips to each mark. I'd blame the alcohol later.

His hands danced along my spine and squeezed my hips gently. "Your turn."

All I could do was hum as he carefully turned me and squirted the shampoo into his palms. The sensation of his steady, strong hands lathering my hair and gently massaging my scalp was enough to make me moan. "God, you've got good fingers."

Jake chuckled, lips moving against the shell of my ear as his blunt nails continued to massage the soap into my scalp. "Told you I was good with my hands."

"Don't be so smug," I replied with another content moan.

His breath sent a chill up my spine as he chuckled against my neck. "Careful with those pretty noises, princess. Or you might just get yourself in trouble."

I smirked, leaning back against his chest fully. "I like trouble."

"I'm sure you do," he teased.

The concept of time was meaningless with Jake. I had no idea how long we spent in his shower, and I didn't care. His touch, soft and constant, was all that mattered to me. When we finally got out, he helped dry me off before disappearing into the main room for a minute and returning with a simple t-shirt that he helped me put on. From there, he wordlessly picked me up and took me to his bed.

It was just as soft as I'd imagined. Warm with that lingering hint of his cologne embedded in the fabric. I settled with my head on his pillow, eyes heavy as I watched him pull on a pair of sweatpants and continue with his nightly traditions unhindered by my presence.

Jake picked up the abandoned camera equipment, putting it all back where they belonged among his shelves of things. Then he set the glasses in the sink and put the alcohol back on his counter. He locked the door, a sound that made my heart tick slightly - old wounds and all - before turning the lights off.

The lights from the city outside cast an array of gorgeous colors through his windows. Shapes of light played across his ceiling. I sat up and watched them for a moment as the bed dipped, and he settled in beside me. "I like your apartment," I admitted softly.

"Yeah?" He asked, the tiredness finally beginning to sink into his voice.

"It's peaceful."

I could feel the warmth of him through his shirt on my back as he reached for me. Palms settled against my lower back, fingers tapping some unknown tune before he nudged me, a silent urging for me to lay down and settle, one I followed without hesitation. I curled into his side, resting my head against his chest as he pulled the covers over us. Hem- Whisky jumped onto the bed, curling into Jake's free side, stretching his little legs out to make tiny air biscuits for a minute before settling fully.

My fingers traced Jake's tattoos, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and the way the lights danced through his apartment. If this were anywhere else, I would have been afraid to look out into the dark - afraid that I'd see old faces or nameless bodies. This wasn't anywhere else, though. This was Jake's safe haven. It was where he kept the things that mattered to him. It was his books and his camera. His old chair and vintage guitar. His alcohol and his cigarettes. 

It was a place I felt I belonged in. Playing with the cat he'd "stolen", looking through his books and admiring his photos, sitting in his chair, showering with him, curling up in his bed… I belonged here. I belonged here with him. My fingers stilled against his skin as the feeling settled inside me. The thought, the feeling, was finally accepted instead of being denied once again.

"Jake," I mumbled into his skin, tired but unable to sleep until I knew he felt it too.

"Yeah?"

Do you feel that? My tongue felt unnatural in my mouth. Do you think I belong here too? My mouth was too dry. Do you want me to stay? The words tumbled out, hardly intelligible, "I didn't learn a damn thing about photography."

He laughed, a sound that made my silly little heart soar, smoothing a hand over my head and turning his head to smile down at me. "That's alright. I'm always willing to give you more lessons." Yeah, princess, I want you to stay.

"I look forward to it," I said, and with a tired smile, I tilted my chin up, pressing my lips to his in a soft kiss that he returned instantly. Good. Because there's nowhere else I wanna be.

Outside, the city kept moving. Time kept moving. But there, wrapped in warm blankets, pulled to sleep by a soft embrace - there in Jake's apartment, time stood still.

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter #sweet bitter #sweetbitter fanfiction #jake x lena #jake x oc #jake smut #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x oc smut #sweetbitter jake and lena #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter nicky #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter fandom

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 19 | Chapter 21

Chapter 20: Interlude - The Saint

TW: some fluff, our idiots are reflecting on their big feelings, Lena remembers the important thing she was supposed to be doing last chapter, angst, shouting, lots of blame getting passed around and everyone's sayin shit they don't mean, cruel words, grief, flashbacks, heartwarming advice, and reassurance, big hugs and make ups. I'm SO sorry that this chapter (and next) are so late! Life just got absolutely insane and I had to restructure and rewrite a ton of this chapter so it kept getting put off. But, she's here! I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I'm not gonna let my perfectionism rob y'all of a chapter for another month! Chapter 21 should be following tomorrow or the day after if life decided to let me breathe for five minutes! Thank y'all so much for your patience! Enjoy!

Jack Harrow was a man of many talents. He could throw a punch that would send his opponent to the floor like they'd been hit by a goddamn bus. He could take a hit too, straight to the face like it was nothing. He was an artist at cutting hair and taking care of stray animals as well as stray kids. He was a decent singer with a surprisingly smooth voice - a fact you'd never know about him if you'd only heard the slew of curses he knew. And Jack was quite the cook, in his mind at least.

Jack Harrow was a man of many talents. He was a fighter, a barman, a son, a lover, a father, and then he was dead.

It didn't hurt in the end, and it was quick enough that he hadn't caused too much hassle for those around him. He'd felt it coming, that quiet cold that seemed to numb him, and so he'd watched his beautiful daughter dote on him one last time, talking at length about how his boys would be there soon with a movie for him to watch. Ghostbusters. His favorite. Jack waited until Ozzy came - he'd wanted to wait for his boy too, but deep down, he knew there wasn't time for that - so, giving the man he loved one last kiss before the cold really hit him, Jack accepted his fate.

He forced his stiff fingers to uncurl around his jacket, holding it out to his baby with a smile. "Keep an eye on this for me?" She started to protest. "Just for a bit."

She slid it on, a smile on her lips as he nodded at her. "Badasses get the jacket."

"That they do." He was going to miss that smile. "Hey, badass, mind running to the cafeteria and grabbing me some gruel?"

"Course," she answered, pressing a kiss to his head. "Be right back."

The cold had numbered his limbs by the time she'd vanished. Jack could hardly even feel Ozzy's hand in his anymore. With all that strength, he squeezed Oz's hand and looked up at him with tearful eyes and wheezing breaths. His love instantly started trying to fix it. "What do you need? I can… I… I'll call in one of the nurses."

"Ain't nothin' they can do now." Jack smiled. "I love you, Oz. I've always loved you."

The man shushed him, hands shifting from holding his to pressing the call button on his bed. "Don't. Don't you dare start talking like that."

Jack just continued. "Tell the boys… Tell them… Tell all of them I love ‘em. Keep 'em safe for me, especially our girl."

"Jack-"

He squeezed harder. "You'll tell them, won't you?"

All Ozzy could do was nod, sniffling as he fought the tears in his eyes. "Nurse! NURSE!"

Death is different for everyone. It's one of the few cosmic laws that never bends but always greets you with warmth. As Jack Harrow closed his eyes, letting the cold take him entirely, the last thing he felt was the love of his life touching him. As Jack died, the sound of the hospital machines faded, replaced by the sounds of the alley between The Ring and Ozzy's Pub. 

He could smell the old leather and the cigarettes and the booze, but more importantly, Jack could feel the warmth of Ozzy tucked beneath his arm. They sat together in their little alley - their little pocket between two opposing worlds - and they just existed. Together. Like it was always meant to be.

Jack Harrow was a man of many talents. And, in the grand scheme of things, one could say he was quite good at dying.

*

I always loved the early morning. The soft glow of the rising sun over the city made everything shine. It made everything and everyone look so clean and happy. New York City was chaotic, loud, and demanding, but somehow, those mornings always felt peaceful.

The faint smell of the food trucks by my apartment was usually what woke me each morning. It was almost always hot dogs or a bagel cart or two, but today, it was Chinese food. Today it was the distant sounds of the city - sounds that were familiar but also new - and the very abrupt lick to the underside of my foot by a scratchy cat tongue.

Fleeing the wet tongue, I curled into the solid warmth that was wrapped around me. I opened my eyes, blinking until the haze cleared from my vision, revealing the soft face and gentle ocean eyes staring down at me. Jake.

Even as my head throbbed, the memories of last night swirling through my mind and bringing me a feeling of bliss, I smiled. My eyes drifted closed again, savoring the feeling of his arms around me, his hands caressing my skin, the softness of his bed, and the light smell of his cologne. When I opened my eyes again, he was smiling too - that thin one, the tiniest hint of genuine joy that he almost never let me, or anyone, see. "Hi." 

Jake laughed, a low, still tired sound that made my heart skip a beat. "Hi." He lifted his hand, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and his smile widened, not smug, proud, or teasing… Real as he repeated the word. "Hi."

I couldn't help but giggle. The blissful feeling quickly shifted into an odd but good feeling. As I moved my hand to cup his cheek, idly tapping my fingers against his skin, I realized what it was. I was happy. I was happy with Jake. Closing my eyes again, letting myself lean into that feeling, holding onto it for as long as I could, I pressed my lips to his.

We'd shared a lot of kisses. Lustful and heated, harsh and demanding, soft and meaningful. This one was one I hadn't expected. It was a kiss that held a touch of sleep and dreams, a gentle, patient, and simple thing. This was a lover's kiss, an embrace in soft blankets, and surrounded by that sunrise glow that I loved so much. When it was over, and I was met with his adoring gaze, all I could do was whisper that simple word again. "Hi."

"How's your head feeling?" He asked, seeming to shake himself of whatever vulnerable, tired thoughts he'd been thinking. The usual flirtatious gleam returned to his eyes as he lifted his fingers to my temple, pressing lightly. "Figured you'd have one hell of a hangover."

"It's not that bad," I assured him. In this light, I could see the slight flush on his cheeks. In this light, it was very hard to remind myself that this was my friend Jake and not my lover. "Sorry about that, by the way."

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders or trying to as best he could while lying on his side. "Don't worry about it, princess. You're a pretty fun drunk."

Rolling my eyes, I scoffed at him. "You're just saying that 'cause I basically threw myself at you."

"That did give me quite the ego boost," he admitted with a grin. "But, it was a good night."

With my cheek pressed against his pillow and the feel of his arms around me, I smiled. "It was a really good night."

I could see the way he instantly wanted to respond with something witty and smug, but Jake forced the sides of his mouth down and nodded. "So… I… What now?"

"You seem flustered." Grinning ear to ear, I sat up in exaggerated shock. With a fake gasp, I looked down at him. "Am I your first?"

Jake laughed, carefully sitting up and unintentionally - or very intentionally - pulling me into his chest. "Don't let it go to your head, princess."

"So I am your first. That's cute of you."

"I've had plenty of women spend the night," he finally replied. "I'm just not used to them staying for breakfast the next day."

Bumping our noses together, I used the swell of pride and elation to fuel my teasing. "What makes you think I'm staying for breakfast?"

His brows rose as his hands settled on my hips. "You're still here, aren't you?"

"Oh, come on, pretty boy! You gotta ask me properly."

Normally, Jake would have resisted a little, but today, he just nodded. "Lena, would you like to stay for breakfast?"

I hummed, pretending to think it over when really I just liked hearing him ask me to stay. "I'd love to."

For a second - one incredibly long and intimate second - it seemed like Jake was going to kiss me. A kiss that we both knew would unravel whatever tiny thread of self-control both of us still possessed on the ever-growing desire to lose ourselves in each other. His hands squeezed my hips, and then he carefully pushed me back and slid off his bed. "I, uh, don't know what I have that's edible."

Ignoring the slight burn of disappointment that filled my chest, I inched closer to the edge of the bed. Whisky emerged from the pile of blankets and slid into my lap, purring as I scratched his chin. "Got stuff for shitty eggs?"

"Careful, my version of shitty eggs is actually shitty."

"If I can survive Patrick's attempt at eggs, I'm sure I can survive yours," I assured him, carefully moving Whisky off my lap to stand up. Jake's gaze instantly drifted, eyes lazily rolling down my body. My heart stammered, and my face felt hot. Stupid, I told myself. He'd seen me naked before, and here I was, getting flustered by his eyes. With a soft clearing of my throat, I gestured towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna get dressed."

Jake nodded, scratching the back of his head and turning to his kitchen. "You can shower if you need to. What's mine is yours."

The words sent a shiver up my spine. What's mine is yours. It was platonic. It was him being a good friend. No matter what I told myself, the weight of what I felt… Of what I knew, he felt too, made it impossible to keep those words from meaning too much. "Thanks."

The bathroom provided me with a moment of privacy - a moment I used to stare at myself in the mirror, or rather stare at the new marks that littered my skin. I carefully touched each hickey and faded bite mark, my mind remembering how they all got there.

It had been a long time since I'd seen my neck constantly covered in love bites. One-night stands usually didn't leave any lasting marks, and Sam had always been too gentle to bite. Jake was different, though. He touched me like he was desperate… Starved. He was rough, but in a way that made me feel completely and utterly wanted. The energy Jake brought to intimate moments was electric, addictive, and attentive. I never knew what to expect with him, yet I always knew I would enjoy myself.

I always knew I was safe.

There, in Jake's bathroom, staring at myself in his mirror, I let myself fall. I wanted to be with him. Not just in some wild night of impulsive pleasure… But in everything else. I wanted to sleep in his bed with him. I wanted to eat whatever shitty breakfast he cooked up in the morning. I wanted to play with the cat. I wanted to hold his hand and kiss him without sneaking off. I wanted Jake. Every part of him.

With a deep breath, I let that fuzzy feeling consume me. I put my pants and shoes on, stuffing my shirt in Jake's dirty laundry hamper in favor of wearing his t-shirt for a little longer. Then I combed my fingers through my unruly hair and pointed at myself in that mirror. "You're gonna talk to him. You're gonna be honest, and you're gonna talk to him!"

Once I emerged from the bathroom, now filled with a determined fuzzy feeling, I made my way to the kitchen, where Jake was still shirtless, rummaging through his cupboards. Adorable, I thought with a happy smile. Now or never… My fingers tingled as the slightly nervous but still good feeling really started to take root in my chest.  Jake smiled at me before he turned and opened his fridge. "I don't think I've got any eggs. Or… Well, anything really."

"I'm sure a man of your talents can figure something out." I caught his smirk before I ducked my head back down and nervously fished my phone out of my bag, a last-ditch effort to prolong the conversation we both knew was well overdue. "We could always go out somewhere too. I'm not picky."

The first thing I noticed as I turned my phone back on was the insane amount of missed calls and messages. What the fuck? The second thing I noticed was the time and the date.

9:10. November 20th.

My heart stopped, and all the good fuzzy feelings drained from my body. All that nervous excitement about breakfast… About the conversation I'd planned to have with Jake… All of it was replaced by a deep, dark guilt. No… I tried to deny it. That can't be… it… With trembling fingers, I opened the messages.

Hey, we just got here. You and Oz running late? Peter.

Bring a think of that whisky dad liked. Patrick.

Are you on your way?

Lee, where are you?

It's been an hour. Are you and Ozzy alright?

Missed call.

Missed call.

Lena, answer your phone.

Missed call.

Lena?

Missed call.

Lena.

Lena.

Lena.

"Lena?"

"Oh god," I mumbled as my eyes stung. My hands locked around the damn phone. How the fuck did I forget? Why… Why wasn't I there?

Jake closed his fridge door, making me jump and look up at him in shock. His eyebrows furrowed, those blue eyes dancing over my face with concern. "Hey, you okay?"

And then it all came crashing down. The reason I'd forgotten about the family visit… The reason I'd forgotten to keep an eye on the time… The reason I'd forgotten the anniversary of my father's death. Jake. I'd been with Jake. I'd gotten so lost in him and that feeling of safety, warmth, and fun.

"I forgot," I whimpered. Seeing the confusion play on his face, I reached forward grabbed my bag, and turned to leave. "I… forgot."

"What?" He asked, head tilting as he moved closer. "Lena, wait!"

My feet didn't stop, not as Jake called out after me as I hurried down the stairs and out the front door, not as the harsh wave of passing bodies swept me into the crowd of people, and not when the tears started to spill down my cheeks.

Crying silently in a crowded place was a talent, one I'd mastered years ago, but it never felt any better than it did to cry loudly in silence. In both scenarios, you're alone. In both scenarios, your only choice is to keep walking forward. The tears weren't even the worst part. The guilt that now consumed my chest was smothering… Forcing my body into an old state of panicked breathlessness.

I'd forgotten about the anniversary of my dad's death… I'd forgotten about everything else. Everything except Jake and that fuzzy, warm, stupid feeling that I got whenever I was with him. Last night, a night that was supposed to be solemn and focused on the life my father led, was instead made all about me. 

It was a good night. I closed my eyes for a moment, hints of those feelings simmering inside me as I continued to walk. It was such a good night. Too good of a night. The sounds of the city faded away, replaced by the faint but steady noise of a flatlined heart.

Dad's leather jacket cocooned around me as I carried the small tray of food up from the cafeteria. The smell of his strong cologne made the sterile hospital less frightening and made me feel safe. Dad was here. Nothing bad was gonna happen.

Ozzy stood outside the door, a cold, void look on his face as he stared into the distance. I knew what that look meant… I'd looked that way before. But, there, with that leather jacket and that idiotic sense of hope, I refused to acknowledge it. Oz pulled himself out of it as I neared, moving to stop me with a gentle hand. "They ask you to wait outside?"

"Lena… He…" A sob tore through Ozzy's throat as he shook his head. "He's gone."

A forced laugh filled my lungs as I shook my head, ignoring the way I instantly knew he was telling the truth. Ignoring the way I knew in my bones, my dad was dead. "No. No, he's fine. I was just with him."

Oz's face tightened with pain. "Oh, my girl…"

"I was just with him," I repeated as my hands went numb and tears started to fill my eyes. "I…"

I brushed past him and walked forward to the door, where everything faded at the sight of my father lying on the hospital bed. His eyes were closed, chest exposed, and covered with those paddles as the doctors shouted at each other. My hands went numb, the tray falling from my grip as the sight of that flat green line forced my brain to acknowledge what had happened.

My dad was dead. "No." I bit out, desperate fear and bitter anger digging up more memories… Forcing me to relive another loss. "Dad…" I could feel phantom blood on my hands and hear echoes of the gunshot. I could see lifeless eyes looking up at me. "Get up."

Ozzy's arms wound around me as my quiet words turned into desperate and harsh sobs. "I've got you, my girl."

"Dad, please get up!" I screamed, pounding on the door the doctors had closed. "Get up!"

I still need you, I wanted to tell him. We all need you. 

There on the hospital floor, Ozzy held me tight as I fell apart. That day, I walked out of the hospital with nothing left of my dad… Just that leather jacket.

I knew my feet would carry me home. But what I didn't know was just what to expect when I got there. The Ring was closed, the lights off, and no one moved around the gym as I went to the back door and entered. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that made every part of me want to run away.

When I opened the apartment door, Patrick was the first one I noticed. He held a hammer, using it to fix one of the cabinet doors, as he glared at me. Peter stood up from his seat, his entire face draining of worry as he gave me a quick hug. "Where the hell were you? We were scared shitless thinking you were in trouble."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, dropping my bag onto the edge of the table. "I'm sorry. I… I just lost track of the time and…"

Patrick's face remained cold and hardened as he set his tools down and turned. "Where were you?"

Peter recognized that look. He recognized that feeling of static fire that filled the air between us. He'd felt it a hundred times by now… Felt it right before Patrick and I fought. "Pat…"

"No." His voice sent my hair standing on end. Every fiber of my being instantly reminded of that fucking penthouse… Of the way, Patrick was bigger than me… Stronger than me… Of the way, in moments like this, he reminded me of Tony. "Where were you, Lena?"

My heart pounded, the voice saying the words twisted. Half my brother and half him. Anger curled inside me. The ugliest… Deepest anger. "What does it fucking matter?"

Patrick's hand slammed down onto the table. "What was so goddamn important that you forgot about our dad?"

"It's none of your fucking business!"

"Like hell it isn't!" Peter was on his feet now, standing between us, eyes closed and tears pouring down his cheeks. "FUCKING TELL ME!"

"I DON'T OWE YOU A GODDAMN THING!" I screamed.

Patrick's eyes were wide. They were filled with his own traumatic past… With his own anger that was just as ugly and deep as mine. "You're so fucking selfish." Stop. "Nothing fucking matters to you." Shut up. "Not me. Not Oz. Not Pete. Not even our fucking dad."

All my anger boiled over, and my mouth opened, speaking the words I knew would strike deepest. "He isn't even your dad! You aren't even part of the family!"

Patrick didn't skip a beat in returning the sentiment. "I'm more part of this family than you are. You were hardly even here, and when you were, everyone couldn't stand you!"

Peter shoved us both back. "Stop! Both of you!"

"We all would've been better off if you'd never come back."

My heart stopped. My vision blurred as Tony's words echoed in my mind. "All you offer anyone is problems, stress… Trouble. They're all better off without you. And you know it."

Tears were shimmering in both our eyes as the reality of what we'd said dawned on us. I could see regret in Patrick's eyes… I could see that he hadn't meant the words he said… Just as he could see I hadn't meant mine. But we said nothing. Stuck in our hurt and our pride. Peter's voice was nothing but a dull background noise as I grabbed my bag and left the apartment, slamming the door behind me.

Hands trembling and my breath trapped in my chest, I walked, now unsure of where my feet would take me. I couldn't go home. I couldn't go to Jake. I was alone. And maybe I deserved to be.

I wandered the streets for what felt like hours before I finally stopped in front of the rundown hotel. Sliding through the hole in the fence and carefully maneuvered around the glass to stand at the bar. The smooth wood felt cold beneath my fingers as they sought out the neatly carved initials at the edge. J.H. Good ol Jack Harrow. The man… The father I'd forgotten about on the one day set aside to remember him properly.

Maybe it was stupid to be so distraught over one day, but the ache remained all the same. No matter what I told myself, I still felt horrible. Guilty. Selfish. Years of self-loathing and years of being told I was nothing but a selfish waste of space caught up with me. 

My dad had been the first to make me believe I was something. He was the first person that loved me, even when I was at my lowest. And I'd forgotten him. Deep down, I knew he wouldn't be mad at me for it. But that knowledge only seemed to make me feel worse.

Howard called and texted a few times as my shift start came and went, but all I could do was stare at the phone. The silence was one filled with ghosts, and I was content to sit there and wallow in the memory of them all. But, glass crunched beneath someone's shoe, forcing me to turn.

Mr. Hiragana bowed slowly, eyes taking in the damaged space for a moment before he came to stand beside me. "Apologies, I did not intend to startle you."

"It's alright," I told him. "I… What are you doing here?"

"I came with some inspectors to get a better idea of what needed to be done to turn this place into a restaurant worthy of your name." He smiled, head turning slightly to the three other people now roaming about the rubble. "I intended to call you, but it seems that is no longer necessary."

Moving to leave, I answered, "I can go if you need the place to yourself."

Mr. Hiragana chuckled and shook his head. "That is hardly necessary. Besides, it's been a long time since we've sat at a bar together and spoke."

I laughed halfheartedly. "It has been a while."

"You seem troubled," he said quietly. "Is there anything I can do?"

Shaking my head, I blinked back tears. "No. I… This is my own mistake. One I'll have to fix myself."

"Mistakes are often the stones that lead to better paths." He smiled, leaning in as if it were some secret. "That is why we must make so many in our short lives."

"What if the mistake is a really big one?"

"Then the end destination will surely be a beautiful one." He looked at the bar, eyes scanning the surrounding area with a humble nod. "This is the place your father chose, is it not?"

My fingers curled around the chain link fence as I stared between the metal at the grand building in front of me. Even with the missing windows and broken glass, I couldn't look away from the gorgeous place as it shimmered in the sunlight. "It's beautiful."

"This dump?" Dad replied, earning a swift elbow from Ozzy. "I mean… Yeah… Beautiful."

Turning, I looked up at him. "Are they gonna make it into something new?"

Dad shrugged, looking at the abandoned hotel. "They'll probably tear it down and build a parking lot."

"What?"

Oz shook his head. "He doesn't know that for sure, dear."

"Why are you so invested in some trash hotel anyway?"

Looking back, I shrugged. "I dunno. I just… Like it."

Dad bent down, scooping me up and lifting me over the fence. "Let's go check it out then!"

"Dad!"

"Jack!"

As I landed on my feet now on the opposite side of the fence, I looked up at the two older men as my dad saddled the fence, ready to join me. He extended a hand to Ozzy and winked. "Oh, come on, Oz. It'll be fun!"

Ozzy shook his head but climbed over with us. "You two are troublemakers!"

The building was full of old posters and sleeping bags from whoever had been squatting here, but all I saw was the chandelier and the crown molding. Potential. "Wow! Can you imagine what it looked like before?"

"That's boring," Dad insisted. "What do you see it as in your head?"

"A restaurant," I answered with a smile. "My restaurant."

Ozzy gave Dad a look before he bent over and asked, "Do you really enjoy that sort of thing?"

"What sort of thing?"

"The cookin' your aunt always has you doin'." Dad patted my head. "That whole restaurant she's stuffed you in."

I thought for a moment, reflecting on the conflicting feelings of Aunt Maddie's harshness and the actual cooking. "I like to cook. It's simple. I… I don't have to think about anything else."

With a nod, Dad smiled again. "A restaurant then. Yours. What you gonna call it?"

"Nishikigoi."

Ozzy laughed. "In English, dear."

"It's the word for koi fish." I scratched my head. "At least, I think it is. That's what the big fish said last time."

"Should I be worried about all this fish talk?" Dad asked, hoisting me up. "You're not gonna turn into some seabass, are ya?"

Giggling, I shook my head. "Not in this life."

Dad nodded to the elevator doors, urging Oxygen to follow us. "Come on, let's see if these work."

"Jack, no!" Ozzy hollered.

I nodded, sadly staring at the initials. "Yeah, it is."

"It is a very good place. Full of positive energy. I will take great joy in seeing you and your colleagues bring out its full potential." Mr. Hiragana bowed his head, settling a hand over my dad's initials in the wood. "He would as well."

"I miss him." Tears finally rolled down my cheeks. "I miss him so much, and yet… I find myself forgetting him. His smile. His voice. The way he laughed."

The old man frowned. "Death takes the spirit. Time takes the body. But memory is something we hold inside us through even the darkest of times." His hand took hold of mine. "A love that deep never leaves us, not even in death. It is impossible for you to have forgotten him."

"How?"

"You carry him with you. His smile is your smile. His voice is your voice. His laugh is your laugh. Your father left you with everything you would ever need to remember him by."

I wiped the tears from my eyes and cleared my throat, bowing my head to him. "Thank you, my friend."

"It is always an honor to offer you my advice, little fish."

"Well, since we're both here, why don't I show you around?"

He smiled, taking my arm and walking with me as I led him through the old hotel. Mr. Hiragana listened to all the ideas I'd saved up for what we could do with it all. For an hour, the crushing weight of the guilt and the pain lessened. With the input of the man I'd met so long ago at a bar in Tokyo, it felt like my dad was standing beside me, arm draped over my shoulder, making his usual witty remarks.

Once I'd talked his ear off and the inspectors had finished, I bowed my head and bid Mr. Hiragana farewell. Back on the other side of the fence, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and finally checked the messages that had been steadily buzzing the last hour. My heart nearly stopped at the sight of four missed calls from Peter. One from Patrick and one from Jake. It all came back in a large wave that doused all Mr. Hiragana's words of wisdom.

Please answer the phone, Lee.

You know he didn't mean it.

Just… Be safe. Call someone, please?

Peter's messages made my throat clench. Guilt and pain and that stupid bitter sting of anger still sitting in my chest.

The next message was from Jake. It was short and simple and surprisingly not dripping with frustration or anger, which only made the guilt burn hotter. Hey, I just wanted to check-in. Sorry about earlier, if I said something or… You know. Call me if you need anything.

I leaned against the chain link fence in front of the hotel, pressing my hand to my still-aching head and desperately trying not to cry. The phone buzzed in my hand.

You sick or something? Scott.

Pull yourself together, I told myself quickly, replying to the cook's message. Or something. It's been a day.

Sounds shitty. Wanna talk about it or something?

Nope. I texted back quickly. I ran into Mr. Hiragana and his inspectors, though.

How'd that go?

Good. He approved all the plans and is contacting his guys to get it started.

Before he could reply, I shoved the phone in my pocket and started walking. Among the crowds of people and their constant idle noise, I could think clearly. My feet carried me, familiar with every path and, deep down, knowing exactly where to go even when I didn't. I wanted to go home. Wanted to curl up in that old, lumpy bed and disappear. But Patrick's voice still harshly rang in the back of my mind. 

I wiped the wetness from my eyes, scolding myself for nearly crying once again, and shook my head. Home wasn't an option right now. So, I kept walking. Walking and listening and avoiding… All the things I used to be so good at.

The orange hues of the setting sun painted Nana's diner in a golden glow. The tiny little building looked almost heaven-sent as I made my way across the street and through the front door. It was busy tonight. Tables full of bodies happily conversing and enjoying their meals as the old Arabic woman looked up over the counter and sadly smiled at me.

Nana opened her arms wide and swept me up into her embrace, kissing my head and lovingly smoothing her hands over my hair. "Oh, Habibi, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," I answered, though I knew she'd hear the crack in my voice.

Pulling me back, she stroked my cheeks and swept me into a seat. "Sit, beautiful girl. Abdul and I will make you dinner."

As I sat in the noise of Nana's diner, I watched the people that came and went. Families, friends, lovers… There was no shortage of deep forged bonds staring back at me tonight. A great joke that made it impossible for me to forget what I'd missed and the angry words Patrick and I had exchanged. Nana served my food, setting the various plates down around me. "Have you seen Ozzy?"

She shook her head, then suddenly asked, "How was your night? I know it's a difficult day for all of you, but hopefully, your visit made it better."

I clenched my jaw, tears stinging in my eyes. Salt in the wound. I knew Nana didn't mean to remind me of my monumental fuck up. I knew she asked because she cared, but what was I supposed to say? It was amazing. I spent the whole night with Jake and completely forgot that it was the anniversary of Dad's death, so missed the family visit to his grave, and now everyone hates me. So I just shrugged. "It was okay."

Nana saw through me in an instant and gently set a hand on my head. "What is that brain of yours thinking?"

A hundred lies came to mind, each one just as likely to shift her focus as the last, but I said none of them. I was tired. So tired. "Am I a monster Nana?"

"What?" The old woman questioned, dropping to her knees in front of me. Her hand cupped my cheek as she shook her head. "You are no such thing! Not my silly, thoughtful, bright, good Lena!"

"What if all that's just a lie… A facade to hide what I really am?" Years built in my eyes as I averted my gaze. "What if no one really knows me?"

Nana's grip was gentle but firm as she forced me to look at her. "You listen to me. You are our Lena. My Lena. I have known you since you were in diapers. I have known you through your best and your worst. And I have loved you every moment." She smiled, that kind and gentle smile that warmed my heart a little. "You are no monster. No matter what that pesky brain of yours says."

All I could do was nod into her hands and sink into her warm, spiced embrace. The vicious thoughts - thoughts that Patrick's words had been true… That my mother had been right about me - quieted as Nana whispered her prayer into my hair. After a while, Abdul brought me plates of food, but I wasn't hungry. 

While I played with my food, the diner door opened, and Ozzy quietly walked inside. Nana let out a relieved breath and nodded in my direction. "You talk some sense into her, Oswald."

"Course I will." 

"Make sure she eats!"

He made his way to me, smiling sadly as he sat down. "You weren't at the grave last night."

"Rumor is you weren't either," I retorted with much more bite than intended.

He nodded, looking at his hands. "I wasn't."

After a moment of quiet between us, I asked, "Did you forget?"

His answer had the potential to ease my guilt. It didn't, though. Ozzy shook his head. "I remembered. Too much. Opened that damn box of loss and couldn't bring myself to do anything." He looked back up at me, eyes watery as he waited for my own truth to be spoken aloud.

"I forgot," I whispered. "I… I got distracted, and I…" Pressing my eyes shut as tight as I could, I scoffed at myself. "I had a good night."

Ozzy nodded, standing up and glancing over his shoulder at Nana. "I think it's time we both make amends. Take a bite of that food, or she'll be giving us both a good smack with her magazines." I did as he asked. "Good, now come on, dear."

Gathering my things, I followed him. "Where are we going?"

"To visit with the one person that can absolve us of our guilt."

The cab ride was quiet but not the kind I'd expected. I didn't feel at peace, and I didn't feel guilty. Instead, I was filled with an alarming sense of nothingness. I was filled with a dreaded sensation that had haunted me after I left the hospital. 

The graveyard was even more quiet. It was the revenant kind, though, the kind that made every step on dried leaves echo in the now chilly night air and dance among the dead. Both of us stopped in front of the worn tombstone, lined with fresh flowers and a few soggy cards. Patrick and Peter's gifts, no doubt. Ozzy sat down first, and I followed.

The ground was slightly wet, but neither of us cared as we looked at the name carved into the stone. There were so many things I wanted to say now that I was here, but it felt like each word was stuck in my throat. Ozzy didn't seem to have the same problem. He sighed, reaching out to touch the stone. "Hey, you big oaf. It's been a while." I could hear the sorrow in his voice. "Sorry I'm late. Don't worry, Patrick already gave me hell for it. Boy was downright hostile to me, and maybe I deserved it… The point is, I'm sorry. I just missed you so much that the thought of having to face the facts again was too much for me yesterday. I'm here now, though, and that's what matters."

Silence retook the graveyard. It was my turn to speak, and yet I had nothing. Ozzy's warm hand settled on my knee as I swallowed, separately trying to free the words in my throat. "He would've understood, you know."

"I know."

"Your dad loved you. More than anything. And there is nothing you could have done, now or then, to change that."

Shaking my head, I sobbed. "I forgot about him."

Ozzy's hand squeezed. "You didn't forget him, Lena. That's not possible, and we both know it."

"I-"

"You had a good night. You did things that made you happy… That made you forget about the pain and the sadness that his death stained that day with." With a chuckle, Ozzy shook his head. "You're allowed to live your life, love. He would've preferred it that way."

Looking into his misty eyes, I sniffled. "I know but… Why do I still feel so horrible?"

"Because death is hard." He closed his eyes and sighed. "It's angry and bitter and hard. Remembering or forgetting, it feels the same. So, feel it. Feel the pain and the anger. Feel the joy and the love. Feel it and then try to let it go. Try to let him go. That's all we can do while we exist in this world without him."

"Were you able to do that?" I asked. "Let him go?"

Oz shook his head. "No. I think in order to really do that, I need to find something to fill the home he left behind. And that… It's a very big hole." Turning to look at me, he smiled. "But you found something to do that. Or… Someone I should say."

Jake. "What makes you say that?"

"You let yourself let go. You let yourself feel and forget."

"I never really realized it back then, but I was really lucky," I finally said, tears still streaming down my cheeks. "Most people grow up with just one awesome dad… Sometimes, not even that. But I…" Looking up at him with a smile, I held his hand tighter. "I got two really good, really amazing dads."

He pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, and the two of us cried together. My fingers curled into his jacket as I whispered to him, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, my dear girl." When he finally pulled away, wiping his nose, he stood, nodding to the tombstone. "I'll give the two of you a moment."

Once the sound of his footsteps faded, I sighed, watching my breath rise in the cold air. "Hey, old man. It's been a while... Too long." I stared at his name engraved in the stone, trying to picture his face instead. "I'm sorry I didn't come yesterday, I was... Things got..." I looked down at my jeans, picking at a loose string of fabric. The same jeans I'd been wearing yesterday. "So, there's this boy. He's a complete idiot and just the biggest asshole you'd ever meet. Seriously, he gives Patrick a run for his money sometimes." I laughed to myself, imagining that look he'd give me, telling me to keep going. "But, he makes me feel a lot of things. Good things. He... He makes me feel like I'm normal. Like I'm just me and that... That's beautiful. That I'm beautiful."

My chilled fingers brushed some dirt off his headstone. "He makes me forget, too. Sometimes when I'm with him, it feels like time doesn't exist." I glanced over my shoulder at Ozzy, who stood on the path waiting. "Is that how you felt with Oz? That warm, safe, forgetting? Is it normal to be so... Captivated by someone?"

With a sigh, I settled into my seat in the damp grass. This would be the moment he told me something very profound, something only he could come up with. But, now, all that I could hear was the wind in the trees. Next would come the incessant prying. Dad would want every detail, so, like it was some cosmic secret, I whispered, "His name's Jake, and I think you would've really liked him."

Once I'd finished and pressed my hand to his grave, I felt the weight lift off me. Gone. Truly gone this time. "Bye, Dad. I love you."

Ozzy placed his arm around my shoulder and kissed my head. "Ready to go?"

My eyes cast to the opposite side of the graveyard. "Actually… Would you mind if we visited someone else?"

"Of course not, my dear," he answered, turning down the path toward the person he knew I spoke of.

Clumps of hair swirled along the floor as the door opened. Rada froze in the doorway and looked at the scene with wide eyes. "Lisus."

With blurred vision, I turned my head and looked at her. "I cut it off… oh, oh god, I cut it all off!" My fingers dug into my scalp as the weightlessness of my impulsive rebellion faded, replaced now by terror. "They love my long hair. Tony… He hates short hair! They're going to be so mad I made myself look uglier!"

The maid's lips thinned as she tossed her supplies on the counter and quickly made her way to my side. I flinched as she raised her hand to my cheek, gently attempting to wipe away some of the smudges of charcoal. "How long has it been since you slept Lyubov?"

"I can't sleep," I replied quietly. "They said I needed to finish my pieces for the gala… I'm not good enough… They-"

"None of this," she interrupted, helping me to my feet and leading me up the stairs to the washroom. "Let us get you cleaned up and fix that beautiful hair, hmm?

Rada bathed me, using a soft sponge to clean the paint and charcoal off my face and hands and washing my butchered hair. She quietly assessed the damage and helped wrap me in a warm robe. She lovingly brushed through my hair, finding a pair of scissors and carefully, meticulously cutting to even it out. After a moment, she said, "Repeat after me. Ya krasivaya."

"Ya krasivaya." My voice was shaking from the effort it took to keep my tears at bay.

Rada nodded, smiling at me through the mirror. "Good. Now, ya sil'nyy."

"Ya sil'nyy." 

"Ya lyubim."

"Ta lyubim."

"Mne uzhe dostatochno."

"Mne uzhe dostatochno."

Smiling at me, she smoothed her hands over the now even, short bob. "There, beautiful as always."

"He's going to hate it…" I swallowed a lump in my throat. "I'm so stupid…"

Clicking her tongue, she shushed me. "Do you hate it?"

I looked in the mirror, examining the short, black hair. "I… I miss the red."

She wiped the tears from my eyes and kissed my head. "Then we'll let the red grow back out. You go rest now, Lyubov."

Shaking my head, I tried to protest. "I have to-"

"I will clean up the mess," Rada interrupted, shaking her brush at me. "And then I will pick out your pieces for your show."

"Rada-"

"My Lena," she whispered, taking hold of my face. "My sweet girl… Rest. Let Rada handle everything else."

As she turned to leave, I asked, "What did the words mean?"

Shaking her head, she clicked her tongue. "You'll understand them soon."

I am beautiful.

I am strong.

I am loved.

I am already enough.

With a deep breath, I looked down at the modest stone that marked her grave.  I pressed a kiss to the tombstone. "Ya lyublyu tebya, mama."

*

Home felt far better than it ever had as I entered the gym through the alley door. I let my fingers trail along the pictures on the wall and headed upstairs to the apartment, finally ready to face Patrick and make amends to both my brothers. When I opened the apartment door, all the noise on the other side died. Patrick stood, holding the garbage can, while Peter sat at the table next to Dom. And Jake stood off to the side, half leaning against my bedroom door. 

I wondered why they were here as I dropped my bag on the ground by the door. "I-"

Patrick practically threw the garbage can back into the corner as he twisted around the table and slammed into me. His arms held me tightly to him as if it were the most important thing he could ever do. "You know I didn't mean any of it, right?" He asked, his voice nearly turning into sobs. "I didn't mean it."

I buried my head into his neck. "I know. I didn't mean it either."

Patrick held me tighter. "I know."

We didn't move for a few minutes, both of us breathing heavy sighs of relief at the unspoken but heard apologies. My big brother pulled away first, taking my head in his large hands and blinking away tears. "I love you, little sister."

With a sniffling laugh, I replied, "I love you too, big brother."

Dom made his way past us, wordlessly offering me a pat on the head. Peter hugged me, kissing my head softly. "Don't disappear like that again. Please."

"I won't."

Eventually the two of them followed Dom downstairs to lock the doors, leaving Jake and I alone in the apartment. "Hi," I mumbled, slightly afraid he'd be pissed at me.

Jake breathed a sound of relief? "Hi."

"I'm sorry about earlier…" I started, cursing my eyes as they once again filled with tears. "I shouldn't have run out on you I-"

"Stop," he said, not harshly or loudly… Definite and soft. "You…" His jaw clenched for a second, a far-off look threatening to fill his eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for."

He didn't hate me. I wanted to sob. "They told you then?"

For a moment, he looked scared, and worried as he stumbled on his words for a second. "What?"

"My brothers. I'm guessing they told you about yesterday? About it being the anniversary of our dad's death."

"That's why you were… I'm sorry. I didn't know."

I shook my head, quickly shushing him. "It's not your fault. I could have canceled."

"Why didn't you?" He asked, the vulnerability from this morning sinking into his voice.

Shrugging I smiled at him. "I wanted to be with you."

Without another word, Jake stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. This hug felt heavier… Deeper than the others. Jake held me so tightly that for a moment, I wondered if he was trying to consume me or mold us into one being. His hands cradled my head and back so gently, like I was a freshly plucked flower. It was odd and yet comforting.

Normally, I hated deep hugs. They felt too much like sorrow and pity and everything I didn't want to feel. But Jake's hug was different. It was soft and warm. Safe. I found myself melting into his arms, curling into him - seeking out that feeling that he just radiated.

"I missed you today," I found myself admitting against his skin.

Jake chuckled. "I missed you too, princess."

I pulled my head back, staring into his eyes. "You can stay here tonight if you want to."

"It is getting late," he replied, a tiny hint of teasing.

Laughing, I nodded. "I'd hate for you to get your ass kicked trying to get home."

He smirked. "We both know how easy it is for me to get my ass kicked."

"Come on," I said, gently pulling him into my bedroom.

We undressed in comfortable silence, both our eyes lingering on the other person's body in an odd, almost reverent way. As Jake climbed into the bed, situating himself under the yellow covers, leaving plenty of room for me to join him, I tossed our clothes in my chair and quickly ran a brush through my hair. The lumpy mattress felt better than ever as I sank into Jake’s side, instantly curling into him.

His hands gently massaged my shoulders as he inhaled my hair and looked down at me. I could see something, a feeling or a question, swimming in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

“I just… I didn’t make you feel… obligated to stay last night, did I?”

I sat up slightly, touching his cheek and shaking my head. “No! I stayed because I wanted to stay, Jake.”

Nodding, he swallowed. “You just seemed unsure before all the fun.”

“I mean… I guess was a bit… Nervous,” I admitted sheepishly.

His mood lightened as he chuckled. "Nervous about seeing me? I'm flattered."

"Not about that, jackass. Just… I…" With a sigh, I closed my eyes and shook my head, curling into him more. "I was just nervous that you were expecting it to be different."

Jake's fingers idly combed through my hair as he hummed, throat vibrating against my forehead. "I didn't really have any expectations."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I asked the question that could be a horrible thing to bring up. "Why did you tell Simone we were going on a date then?"

He pulled back, brows furrowed and confusion clear on his face. "I didn't tell Simone we were doing anything yesterday. Why would you think that?"

"I swung by the restaurant before meeting you. She told me I looked cute and not to be nervous because you were good at this sort of thing. Then she assured me she could keep our date a secret."

Jake's genuine confusion only grew. "I…" He paused and shook his head. "I'll talk to her about it. Sorry if that made you feel-"

Covering his mouth with my fingers, I smiled at him. "I didn't feel obligated to do anything. I wanted to. I just… I'm not very good at this."

His laugh vibrated through my fingers as he gently pulled them off his lips. "It's hard to imagine anything you're not good at."

"I assure you, I'm horrible at a lot of things."

"Name one."

"This," I answered smugly, relaxing my head back on his pillow.

Jake rolled his eyes, arms tightening around me. "You seem pretty good at it to me."

Our breaths mingled together, noses brushing ever so slightly. "Well, you're biased, so what you think doesn't count."

A soft silence filled the apartment. The hum of all that had happened… All that we both had come to feel and realize over the past few weeks slowly building. I could feel the question building up in my chest, burning… Pleading for me to let it out. It was only a matter of time before I blurted it all out. Jake just happened to beat me to it. "So… What… What is this?"

I felt all the air leave my lungs as I stared back at those eyes. This was a chance for us to both acknowledge whatever it was we were… What we wanted. It was a chance I wanted to take more than anything, but the words that stumbled out were not what I'd planned. "I thought you hated labels."

God dammit. Jake smirked and shrugged his shoulder. "Normally, I do. But, this isn't normal… Is it?"

"No, it's not."

"We don't have to have this conversation right now," he said, tiredly. "Raincheck?"

“Raincheck.”

That talk could happen tomorrow. But now, all I wanted was to get lost in the moment. Peaceful and safe and tired.  "Jake?" I quietly asked, determined to rid myself of that one last question that was still tugging lightly at the back of my mind.

"Yeah, princess?"

"If my brothers didn't tell you about dad… Why were you already here when I got back?"

He was quiet for a moment, so quiet I almost thought he’d fallen asleep already, but then his chest dipped heavily. "I was worried about you, so I showed up to ask if they'd seen you. Then you walked in."

I giggled, my heart practically doing summersaults in my chest at the soft admittance of his worry for me. "I do have amazing timing, don't I?"

Jake pressed his lips to my head, a simple, intimate act that made my eyes close and everything inside me still. “Yeah. You really do."

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter #sweet bitter #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fic #jake x lena #jake x oc #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter lena #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake and lena

[thepaintedlady00]

hey there! I got my wisdom tooth out this morning was sedated. The hospital said I needed an 'escort' with me to come with me and wait till its over to take me home and care for me. Everything was fine, I was just a bit loopy and funny afterwards :D This made me think - how do you think it would go down if Lena or Jake had to do this and had to be each other's escorts? :D I feel like either of them would end up gushing about how they love the other or something like that hahah

First off, I'm glad your wisdom teeth surgery went well! It's always a tough time having to get one or more removed, but it can be kind of funny after hearing all the stories about how loopy you get. 🤣

Second, I love this idea so I wrote two short little blurbs about how both Lena and Jake would be in this situation. 🤭🤷‍♀️ So, enjoy I guess!

Jake's POV of Lena's wisdom teeth removal:

Jake sat in the uncomfortably stiff waiting room chair, anxiously drumming his fingers against his bouncing leg. His eyes scanned every face that passed by, searching for any hint of bad news. Was it overkill to be this nervous? Maybe. But he'd read every shitty magazine they had on their coffee table and listened to the clinic gossip until that, too, got stale. So, worrying was all he had left to do.

Eventually, one of the nurses came out from the back room and looked at their clipboard. "Harrow?"

He was on his feet faster than either of them expected, earning him a chuckle from the elderly man he'd been waiting next to. "That's me."

"She did great," the nurse said with a reassuring smile. "She should be waking up from the anesthesia any minute now. I was told you wanted to be there when she woke up."

"Yeah," Jake answered, keeping it as simple as possible. They didn't need to know how freaked out Lena would be if she didn't have a familiar face there when she woke up. And they sure as hell didn't need to know what would happen if he wasn't back there.

"Right this way," the nurse replied, leading him to the back room where rows of curtains hung, separating patients, some of whom were still snoring. She pulled back the third curtain just enough for him to slip through.

Lena was lying flat on her back, a long ice packet placed around her jaw. Other than the mild swelling, she looked more than peaceful. Jake sat down in the chair in the corner, carefully reaching out to hold her hand, an act solely meant to ease his own anxiety. The nurse checked her vitals and carefully repositioned the ice pack before she smiled at him. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks." The quiet sound of heartbeat beeping on the monitor and the slow, even breaths that made her chest rise and fall were all he needed.

It didn't take more than a few minutes before he noticed her breathing grow more irregular, and her eyelashes struggled to open. Jake held her hand tighter in his as her eyes slowly opened. Groggy and confused, Lena blinked away the medicated sleep. He saw the spike on the monitor as the fear of her unknown surroundings and her past came flooding in. She lifted a shaking hand, intent on ripping the ice pack and any wires off her when he stood, catching her eye and taking hold of her other hand to stop her. "Hey, it's okay."

She breathed a relieved sigh, blinking away tears. Through the thick gauze in her mouth, he heard her thick mumble of his name, "Jake."

He smiled, moving his hand to brush the hair from her face. "Morning, princess." 

Looking around and gently probing the ice pack with her finger, she seemed to remember where she was and what had happened, relaxing into the mattress. "Howditgo?"

"Good." He chuckled. "They'll be showing up to check on ya in a minute."

Her eyes lingered on his face for a long minute, sparkling as she attempted to smile. "Yerpretty."

Laughing, Jake carefully bent over, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Obviously. Now shut up before you hurt yourself or something."

It would've been an understatement to say he was relieved when they finally gave him and Lena a long list of aftercare instructions and wheeled her out to the taxi. She leaned against him in the car, physically close enough to feel him finally relax when they pulled up to the side entrance of their apartment. He paid the cabbie before helping her out of the car, not letting her take more than a step before he scooped her into his arms. "Seriously?"

"Shut up," he mumbled, kicking the door open and standing in front of the elevator. "Hit the button for me."

Lena looked cute with her slightly chubby face as she tried to smirk at him. "Can't. Too weak."

He shook his head, turning to elbow the wall until he finally hit the button blindly. "You're kind of a bitch."

She mumbled something else but curled into him for the elevator ride up. Finally, home, Jake helped her settle into bed, having already gathered a basket of water bottles, four extra ice packs, and adopted yogurts and puddings so Lena wouldn't have to get out of bed too often. After taking the gauze out of her mouth, Lena took a nap, one Jake utilized to leave and pick up her pain pills from the pharmacy.

When he returned, he pampered her with a quick but soothing bath where he massaged her scalp and shoulders. After, he entertained her every request. Lena abused this power greatly, forcing him to wear a face mask and letting her paint his nails. Eventually, the torture retired to the bedroom, where the two of them curled up in their bed and watched Phantom of the Opera.

"Stop pretending like you hate it," Lena said, pressing a kiss to his neck.

"I do hate it," he insisted, though, at this point, they both knew it was a lie.

Jake enjoyed musicals. He oddly found himself relating to a lot of them. Lena was nonetheless wiser at first, that is until he randomly got them tickets to Broadway. Still, every once in a while, Jake had to complain just to try and throw her off the trail. It didn't work, obviously. Lena knew him better than that. She knew him better than anyone.

With a content sigh, Lena laid her head across his chest. "Thanks for coming to get me."

Jake only smiled. "You know me, I'm all about that domestic shit."

She twisted, gently tugging his face down so she could press her lips to his. “You are truly a prince among men. But, still, I know how much you hate that shit, so thanks.”

“I only hate that shit 'cause I don’t like seeing you in a hospital gown.”

“Why?” Her eyes gleamed as she teased him. “Not my color?”

He pulled her closer to him, arms wound tightly around her. “We both know you look best in red.”

Nuzzling her face into his cheek, Jake closed his eyes. “Shuddup and watch the movie, jerk.”

“Whatever, loser.”

Lena's POV of Jake's wisdom teeth removal:

I sat in the waiting room, casually flipping through the pages of one of the magazines the clinic kept on their coffee table. It’d only been about twenty minutes since I’d gotten the call that they’d be finishing up Jake’s surgery soon, so I was more than content to wait. Most would assume I’d be nervous, freaking out over the what-ifs and the complications possible, and while those thoughts did come and go every now and then, I knew Jake would be just fine. He was in perfect health. Besides, he was tough and unbelievably stubborn. It’d take a lot more than some anesthesia to take him out. The old woman sitting beside me leaned over with a gentle smile. “Who are you waiting for?”

“My boyfriend,” I answered. “Wisdom teeth.”

She nodded. “My husband has had his for years. Insists that they’ve never bothered him before, but now his dentures don’t fit right with them in.”

I chuckled at her. “That sounds like quite the pain.”

“He is,” she joked. “Took me a week to convince him to get them taken out. And he grumbled about it all the way til they knocked him out.”

The nurse came from the back room with a smile and a quick glance at her clipboard. “Harrow?”

Saying a quick farewell to the old woman, I stood, carefully putting my magazine back down before I approached her. “That’s me.”

“Everything went great! He’s awake now if you wanna wait with him while the doctor gets his paperwork together.”

“Yes, please,” I answered, following her into the back room, where she led me past a few curtained sections before stopping and gesturing to the right one.

“Let us know if he needs anything.”

“Thank you.” I slid through the curtain and smiled at Jake, who was lounging on the cot, idly poking his cheek. “Well, hello there, handsome.”

His head turned, eyes still slightly droopy from the drugs. His jaw and cheeks looked swollen as he smiled at me. “Leeeennnaaaa!”

I giggled as he reached out and tugged me closer. “How are you feeling?”

“I’mgoood,” he slurred, the ice pack sliding off his face as he moved to admire my ass. “Lookityourass!”

Fixing the ice pack, I rolled my eyes. “I probably should have expected that.” His hand cupped one of my asscheeks as I swatted him away. “Jake!”

“Whaaatt?” He asked, laughing. “You’rejustsohot.”

“You’re lucky you’re still high right now.”

It turned out that drugged-up Jake was even more touchy than regular Jake. It was kind of cute, not that I’d ever tell him that. As one nurse was going over his aftercare instructions, another was helping him into his wheelchair when he loudly proclaimed, “THATSMYGIRLFRIEND!”

Both girls laughed, “They know, sweetie.”

“ISN’TSHESOHOT?!”

The room was filled with suppressed giggling as every nurse and doctor in the vicinity was subjected to Jake’s loving praises, which didn’t stop when we rolled him through the waiting room. The older woman from before waved at us with a kind, “He’s a real keeper!”

The whole drive, Jake lounged on my lap while complimenting every feature of my face with a gentle, slightly off point of his finger. Once we got back in the apartment, he collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. Quinn dropped off his pain medication before he woke up and quickly fled the premise to join Ari for dinner. After the medication wore off a bit and he woke up, he ate some yogurt, and then we took a quick, cool shower where I helped wash his hair and gently wash his face.

Once the two of us settled into bed, his head resting in my lap with my fingers gently combing through his inky hair, Jake looked up at me. “Don’t laugh, but can we watch Moulin Rouge?”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the laugh in and nodded. “Of course, we can, sweetie.”

As the movie played and Jake shifted to lay in front of me, head on my chest, he mumbled, “I’m not saying I like this-”

“Shut up.” I kissed the top of his head and carefully set two ice packs against his cheeks. “I love you, loser.”

His fingers threaded through mine, settling our hands over his heart. “I love you too, jerk.”

#fic: nightshade #nightshade #nightshade oneshot #jake x lena #jake and lena #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweet bitter #sweetbitter #tiny sneak peek into the future of this fic?

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 16 | Chapter 18

Chapter 17: Candy Apple

TW: as always language, drinking, smoking, some minor blood and violence, a few lewd thoughts, minor panic, but overall a pretty chill chapter this week This was edited quick, so sorry for mistakes. And I'll be totally honest with y'all I am not loving it. This chapter was really just giving me the most trouble from the start. There was so much I wanted to add and I just bit off a bit more than I could chew with this one so a lot got cut and it feels kinda rushed, but I figured it was best to get it posted and out of the way so we can move on to bigger and better things. So, sorry if this sucks! 😅 I still hope y'all enjoy it!

Rain splashed against the pavement in large drops, making it hard for Jake to ignore as he rode his bike through the bustling city streets. The chilled liquid slid down the arms of his leather jacket and onto his hands, making them feel stiff in the October air. A taxi drove through a puddle, splashing the bottom of his pants and getting him even more wet than before. God, he hated the rain. 

In the alley ahead, he could see a sopping wet head of red hair. Lena stood in the downpour as Sasha, Ari, and Scott all smoked beneath the safety of the covered doorway. As the traffic filtered out of his way, he could better see how her hair dripped and how calm her face was as she talked to their coworkers as if she weren't soaking wet, but it was her peaked nipples that caught his and Ari's eyes most. Her white shirt was nearly sheer from the rain, and the thin bralet she wore did little to hide her breasts from the world, not that he was complaining.

He rode across the street, drawing the eyes of everyone in the alley, but hers were all he cared about. The green was more vibrant in the rain, but they still paled compared to her smile. A soft whisper of his name was all it took to make his heart beat slightly faster. Scott looked at his wet pants and shook his head with a chuckle. "Not the best weather for bike riding."

"No shit," he grumbled in reply.

Lena shrugged. "I think it's fun riding bikes in the rain!"

"You would," Jake looked at her wet clothes again. "What'd you go swimming before you got here?"

"Oh, haha, you're so clever!" She mocked, rolling her eyes and lifting her head up toward the sky with another smile.

She was so beautiful. His eyes studied her again, her hair, those eyes, the slight arch in her back as she leaned back, her breasts. Maybe the rain wasn't so bad after all. Sasha flicked a cigarette into one of the puddles. "I don't think I've ever seen a wet Tiger before."

Ari giggled, leaning against the Russian. "It's kinda hot."

Lena glared at both of them. "Perverts."

"You gonna work soaking wet tonight?" Scott asked, snuffing out his own cigarette.

Ari grinned. "Only if she's in the front with Jakey again."

She flipped the short-haired woman off before answering Scott. "Course not. Unlike the two of you, I'm a professional."

"Excuse me!" Sasha scoffed. "I speak four languages!"

"That's cute," Lena teased, pinching his cheek as she walked past him.

"You little cunt face!" The Russian replied, smacking Lena's ass and muttering some Russian to her.

She only laughed while Scott followed the rest inside. "Don't drag that water through my fuckin kitchen!"

"Yes, Chef!"

Jake followed his coworkers inside, hoisting his bike over one shoulder as he maneuvered around the shelves and people. Ari and Sasha headed out to the table, promising to save Lena food while she dried up. Scott went straight back into prep as Jake followed Lena up the stairs and into the locker room.

Simone was standing in front of the mirror, applying some of her favorite red lipstick. Their eyes met in the mirror as he set his bike against the wall. She smiled. "Good morning, my love. I trust you slept well."

The subtle shift of her eyes glancing at Lena didn't go unnoticed. The redhead said nothing as she began changing into her dry work attire. "I slept fine. Thought my fucked up hair would be enough for you to tell."

It was nice hearing her laugh, a sincere sound that made him lower his guard and relax as he hung his jacket up to dry and changed. Simone looked at him, shaking her head. "I should cut it like I used to. Maybe then you'd remember to brush it."

Chuckling as her fingers ran through his hair, Jake shook his head. "I'll pass. I don't wanna look like shit for the next two months." After she rolled her eyes, Jake carefully nudged her. "You seem to be feeling better. Taking a few days off must've been a good call."

"I am," Simone said softly. Her eyes flashed to Lena again. "What did you get up to while I was gone?"

Even though he'd already discussed the importance of keeping their new partnership quiet with Scott and Lena, Jake felt a pinch of anxiety tense his muscles. "Nothing interesting. You know me."

"I do indeed," she replied, gently squeezing his shoulder. "I'll go get us some food."

"Thanks."

"Good morning, Lena," Simone greeted as she passed the redhead, now doing up the buttons of her shirt.

Lena smiled politely. "Good morning."

Simone's eyes took in her wet hair with an arched brow. "Looks like you've had quite the walk this morning! Do you need help drying your hair before service?"

"Walking in the rain is always interesting, but I enjoy it. And thank you for the offer, but I've got it under control."

"Do let me know if you need anything," Simone replied before making her way down the stairwell.

It made Jake feel far better than it should've, seeing the two interact with one another in such a friendly manner. He knew both women had reservations about the other, but they were trying, and that's what mattered. Lena turned, pressing an old t-shirt to her wet hair. "Pull a hair tie out of Ari's locker for me?"

He followed her simple request, knowing Ari's combination by heart at this point. "You don't have one?"

"Thought I did," she replied. "But it looks like it got lost or something."

"Here." He handed her the hair tie and leaned against the locker next to hers. Watching her work her fingers through her hair, gently twisting it into an elegant and simple bun with only a few shorter curls sticking out and framing her face was mesmerizing. Once she'd made herself presentable, she hung her wet clothes up beside his jacket to dry, and the thought he'd been being onto just came out. "So you and Simone seem to be getting along."

Lena shrugged. "I may not be a member of the Simone fan club, but I respect the group's president enough to be nice."

Maybe it was stupid to feel so happy about something so simple. This wasn't the start of some budding friendship between Simone and Lena, he knew that, but it still felt nice knowing the woman standing in front of him - the one that meant more to him than even he was willing to admit - wouldn't ask him to choose between them as so many others had before. 

The relationship he shared with Simone was complicated, but she was his family… The only person he knew he could count on no matter what. Most women felt threatened by that; most demanded that he choose either them or Simone. That answer was always easy. Simone. As Jake looked at Lena, a sudden thought made the smile vanish from his lips. If Lena asked him to choose, would that answer be as simple? He couldn't imagine losing her, and that meant that somewhere along the way - somewhere between the first day she'd walked out of the kitchen doors and now - Lena Harrow had become as important to him as Simone.

Her green eyes held his attention as a name echoed in his mind and consumed his soul with an answer. An answer to a question Jake would never ask. An answer Jake would never let himself acknowledge. Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head slightly, asking, "You feeling alright, tough guy?"

"Yeah," he responded, lamely moving away from the locker and clearing his throat. "Just tired."

"It has been kind of a crazy week," she admitted with a teasing smile as she lifted her hand to his forehead. "Maybe you're the one that should be taking a few days off."

He brushed her hand away with a chuckle. "I'm sure Howard would love that."

"Well, you are a real pain in the ass for management." She tapped his chin with her finger. "Don't worry though, I'd still miss you."

It was playful banter, their usual kind, but her reassurance that his absence would mean something only made the feeling in his chest harder to shove down. Jake nodded to the door, gently urging her forward. "Come on, let's get this shift over with."

Family meal was something Jake rarely attended. He had no interest in sitting around some table with people he worked with, pretending that they were some big family. Even the name of it rubbed him the wrong way. After everything with Tess, his distaste for it grew. He'd show up early, per Simone's orders, but he'd stay as far from that damn table as he could. Jake would take the plate of food Simone saved him and eat it at the bar, isolated, uninterested, and angry.

It was odd to think as he sat at that table, surrounded completely by the noise and gossip of the people he'd worked with for so long they were… Kind of… A tiny bit like family. Even as he sat beside Simone, a statue of calm and composure, Jake interacted with the people around him. He joined in on their jokes and genuinely listened to what they said. When he looked over at Simone for a split second, he could've sworn he saw a scowl, but she discreetly rubbed his back and sipped on the wine Howard had selected for their morning.

Howard - the only thing that could put a damper on Jake's newfound positive outlook - entered the room with a stiff smile and those beady little eyes fixed on the woman sitting across the table from him. If everyone else at 22West were ships cast out to sea, Lena was a lighthouse. She was warm and bright, and safe. Everyone was drawn into her safe harbor, but Howard was the biggest ship, willing and able to speed past the others to have that harbor all to himself. A thing Jake was determined to keep from happening even if it meant sinking his own dinghy boat.

Lena turned her head, leaning back in her seat to give the manager her attention along with everyone else. "Changelings! Today's extraordinary, but rather obvious, selection of wine was chosen to celebrate an unexpected change, but I hope it'll be a good one in the long run."

"We're getting raises!" Nicky shouted, followed by a chorus of laughter.

"Or he's stealing more of our tips for the dishwashers," Sasha grumbled.

Howard chuckled, shaking his head. "Our dear Rosalyn has accumulated enough funds to tour Europe for the next few months. 

Ari took a big drink of her wine. "How'd that bitch manage that?"

"Maybe she had another job?" Heather added.

"Obviously, we are very happy for her," Howard continued. "But, it's left us without a hostess. So, after much deliberation, we're happy to announce that Lena will be moving to the front to cover hostess duties for the time being."

All eyes were on her as Lena's face fell. Sasha, who sat beside her, muttered in Russian before gulping down his wine. Simone sat up, looking at Howard with narrow eyes as she asked, "Whose decision was this?"

"Mine," Howard replied. "Though our beloved owner showed nothing but support for it. 

Jake could practically see her teeth grinding together as Lena set her jaw in place as Simone continued her questioning. "Did you discuss this with Lena first?"

"No, but if she has an issue with this new arrangement, I am more than happy to discuss it in private." He held Lena's gaze as he turned to leave. She was up out of her seat, following him to his office with fire in her eyes in seconds. Jake smirked. Despite having the biggest boat, Howard certainly wasn't doing himself any favors getting the lighthouse to like him.

*

"What the fuck was that?" I demanded, slamming Howard's door shut.

He sighed, taking his seat at his desk. "Given your position, I thought you'd be happy to have a more secure set of duties."

"I don't give a shit about being a hostess, Howard. Why didn't you come to me first?"

"I didn't think it would be an issue."

"Bullshit." I tried not to grind my teeth together. "After your part in springing, my mother and Olive on me, I thought you would at least consult me about changes like this. Changes that affect me."

He shook his head. "I am sorry, Lena, for springing this on you and for my part in the whole… Mess, that was our field trip. Things have been… Stressful as of late, and I find myself faced with very difficult choices. Choices I've had to make alone."

I breathed out my anger. Howard was a lot of things, but I knew he wouldn't have made a decision like this - one that put the delicate structure of the restaurant he'd dedicated his life to in jeopardy - lightly. "I understand that. Just… Talk to me before making announcements like that in the future. You know I hate surprises."

Chuckling, he nodded in agreement and pulled a dry cleaning bag out. "One last surprise."

"Seriously?" I questioned, looking at the sapphire dress inside. "Is this some kind of new uniform for hostesses?"

The manager shrugged. "The guests seem to appreciate it."

I accepted the dress with reluctance. "So I should start wearing fancier clothes to work from now on?"

"I am more than happy to provide you with suitable attire, Lena. Accessories as well. We both know Liz would have offered them to you if she were around."

Examining the sparkling blue earrings, I smiled at the fond memories of Howard's late wife. I'd only met her twice, long before the two had actually gotten married, but from the little I knew about her, I was certain Howard was right. Elizabeth was always kind and bright. "I'm still kind of mad at you for not giving me any warning, but I'm honored that you trust me with these small pieces of her."

Howard glanced at the now wilting white orchids on his desk. "They're just trinkets. Little things that sparkle. They pale in comparison to what she was."

"Still, I'll take good care of them."

"I know you will."

"I guess I'll go change again." I exited the office, still holding onto the tense frustration of the sudden announcement. It was harder to hold onto the anger; after all, it seemed Howard had been just as blindsided by Rosalyn's departure as the rest of us. I didn't envy the decisions on Howard's plate, especially with all the recent scheduling issues and the drama my mother had invited into the space in the form of her assistant. It was a tough decision, but Howard made it like he always did. The restaurant came first.

As soon as I walked through the kitchen doors with the dry cleaning bag on my arm, Scott scoffed, shaking his head. "Fucker actually did it, huh?"

"What?" I asked, slowing down.

"He put you on as hostess," Scott clarified, pointing a knife at the dress. 

My eyes narrowed. "He told you?"

The chef continued his prep work. "It's what we were fighting about the other day. He wanted to 'give me a heads up', and I told him you were the one he should be warning. He seemed to think you wouldn't care."

"Huh," I scoffed. "I don't mind being the hostess for a bit while Howard looks for someone new. Though, I would have appreciated the heads up."

"I was gonna tell you," he replied. "But Howard was adamant he had it under control, so I thought it best to back off. I don't need that drama, especially not with all the other shit we have going on."

"I understand, Scott," I reassured him. "Have a good service, chef."

Scott shook his head again. "Don't we always?"

I changed into the new gown, silk rather than the other night's satin. It was light and comfortable but made my chest a bit more… Pronounced. If it got chilly tonight, I was certain my nipples would be giving the guests a very different dining experience. The thin straps drew attention to my neck and shoulders, while the long sapphire earrings accentuated my jawline. It was quite the look, one that still didn't quite sit well with me, given the environment.

Though the dress was beautiful and the accessories were stunning, I hated that it made me so overdressed. I looked more like a guest than a hostess, and as everyone else looked at me as I passed, it was obvious they thought so too.

Jake's brow arched as he watched me exit the kitchen and head to the hostel stand. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he discreetly moved his bar rag along the already polished part of the bartop to stand behind me. "Guess I should get used to you being the center of attention out here."

"I'm hardly the center of attention," I answered, sparing him a look over my shoulder. "There will be plenty of fancy-looking guests."

"None that look like you," he responded, eyes dragging down my body.

"You're laying it on thick!" I laughed. "Who would've guessed that hostesses had such sex appeal."

Jake just shrugged. "It's a force of habit. I've spent the past six years flattering my way into every new hostess' pants."

I smirked. "And that turned out so well for you, right?"

"They may have hated my guts after the fact, but I assure you both parties involved had a good time."

Shrugging again, I kept up the playful facade. "Oh, I don't doubt you had fun."

His brows lifted. "Are you insinuating I'm a selfish lover?"

"I'm not insinuating anything," I replied with a grin as I turned to flip through the reservations book.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him chuckle and lean against the bar between us. "I could show you. That'll erase any doubt from your mind."

I held the book close and smiled at him, leaning over just enough to draw his eyes exactly where I wanted them. "Promises promises."

*

Service was going surprisingly well. At least, Jake thought so. The guests seemed satisfied with their lavish evenings. Some even left generous tips. But, as Jake made the drinks, dishing each one out with a dazzling smile, he couldn’t help but notice Howard’s leering. 

Lena was gorgeous, as always. She commanded the room in a way that made Becky, Rosalyn, and every other hostess they’d had at 22West look like amateurs. The silky blue of her dress reminded him of the night sky, soft and smooth and filled with stars if he looked at it long enough. But, no matter how nice of a dress it was or how alluring Lena looked in it, the whole thing didn’t sit right with him. 

No one got that nice of a wardrobe working here. No one. Not even Becky had received such lavish and expensive tokens, and she’d been sleeping with Howard for months before he transferred her. At first, Jake thought it was just a coincidence that he’d caught the managers lingering gaze, but the night continued, and the gazes did too. 

It didn’t matter where Howard was in relation to her; the reflection of that dress was always visible in his glasses. Jake might not have been the smartest bartender to grace the Earth with his good looks and raw skill, but even he was smart enough to know that this wasn’t normal. The outfits, the sudden change in her position, all of it stunk. He caught Howard staring one last time and ground his teeth together. He caught a glimpse of Simone as she headed down to the wine cellar; Jake leaned over and tapped Nicky’s shoulder. “Cover me for a minute?”

“You got it,” Nicky said, moving to replace him as Jake made his way down the stairs after the blonde.

She searched the wine racks with leisure, knowing each placement of each bottle by heart by now. Her eyes twinkled as she looked back at him. “Tonight’s been going well.”

“Yeah.”

The polite smile faded. “Is something wrong?”

Jake sighed, looking out at the second smaller kitchen in swing. “I don’t know.”

Simone held the wine bottle in her hands and took a step toward him. “Tell me.”

“It’s Howard,” Jake admitted. 

“Did he say something to you?” She demanded, cold and angry in seconds.

Shaking his head, he gave her a reassuring look. “No, it’s just this whole hostess thing doesn’t sit well with me.”

Her face relaxed, and she smiled slightly. “I would have thought you’d be overjoyed with it. Lena, being upfront certainly makes it easier for you to stare.”

He rolled his eyes at her teasing. “It’s not that. Well, not just that.”

“What is it then?”

“I dunno. I just find it weird that Rosalyn all of a sudden has money to go to Europe.” He scoffed. “Bitch was poor as hell when I fucked her.”

Simone nodded. “That was some time ago.”

“Yeah, but then instead of doing interviews or anything, he just puts Lena as the hostess. He moves the stand, gives her these dresses and accessories, and then just stands there and stares at her.”

“You think there’s something going on between them?” She asked, tone curious.

Jake practically laughed. “Hell no! Lena’s too smart to fall for his bullshit.”

Simone’s eyes narrowed as she asked, “What is it you’re saying, Jake?”

“I’m saying Howard’s up to something.”

She knew what he was asking of her without him having to say it, and with a gentle touch on the shoulder and a reassuring nod, Simone said, “Relax, love. I’ll see what I can find out.”

He leaned into her touch and sighed. “Thank you.”

If anyone could find out what was going on, it was Simone. So, Jake returned to work with a sense of calm washing over him. She would handle it like she always did, meaning there was nothing to worry about.

*

Service was relatively smooth as the guests slowly began to filter out, leaving just three tables to wait on. Most of the servers gathered around the bar, gossiping and sharing jokes quietly as they waited for the last esteemed guests to take the hint and leave. I stood by the hostess stand, memorizing the names and tables set to join us tomorrow night, when a familiar chill swept across my skin. 

I hated the feeling of eyes focusing on me, but I got used to it after a while in this dress, being upfront with all the people. The chill was something else, something far more unsettling than just a few long looks. As casually as possible, I looked around, trying to pinpoint where the lingering set of eyes was coming from. Howard watched me from the upper floor, and the group of gossiping co-workers shared multiple looks my way. A deep wave of nausea filled my gut as I slowly turned to the window and searched the shadowed figures moving through the streets. There was no visible reason for my body's reaction, no obvious sign of someone watching me, but that chill refused to settle.

After a minute or two of looking, I forced my eyes away and chose to ignore the feeling altogether, convincing myself it was just simple paranoia. I focused on Jake, watching him work the small crowd still sitting at the bar. I focused on his familiar movements and his cocky smile and dazzling eyes of mischief. I focused on the warmth that spread through my chest when those eyes met mine, and he graced me with a smug wink. I was here. I was safe.

Olive moved through the background of the bar, having been assigned to keep it well stocked since it seemed to be the least difficult thing for her to get right without Simone helping to remind her. All through the night, I noticed the tiny glares she gave Jake and me and how she'd purposely bump into Jake while he mixed drinks or reached for things. Whatever he'd said to her certainly pissed her off. While I found her attitude mildly amusing at first, that amusement vanished when her little bumps got rougher and more obvious over the course of the night.

Jake started wiping down the bar as the last remaining guests left. He made some offhanded request to Olive about putting the glasses away, and before I could even register what was happening, all hell broke loose. The sound of glass shattering filled the restaurant with startled gasps as all eyes looked to the bar. Jake’s low curse was what I heard loudest, though and my body was moving before I could recall telling it to. The second I rounded the bar, I saw blood coating the bartop and soaking through the rag he held to his arm. 

White hot rage filled my chest as my eyes sifted, finding Olive’s big, fat, fake tears and her shocked breaths. “Lena-”

“What the hell?” I demanded, moving to place myself between her and Jake.

“It… It was an accident.”

“Like fuck it was!” I yelled, not caring whether or not I drew the attention of the guests.

Jake’s hand squeezed my arm, grounding me and pulling my attention back to the person that really needed me. “I’m gonna need a hand cleaning myself up.”

Keeping my eyes locked onto his face to ignore the stench of blood and the crimson color that stained his shirt, I nodded. “Come on. I think the first aid kit is in the locker room.”

We hurried through the kitchen, ignoring everyone's questions and Scott’s warning about getting blood in his kitchen. Upstairs Jake sat down on the sofa and continued holding the rag to his arm as I tore the room apart, trying to find the first aid kit. My heart was pounding in my ears, old memories and past pains making it difficult to stay in the present. “I can’t fucking believe her!”

"I’m sure it was an accident," Jake said calmly as I finally pulled the first aid kit out from a pile of clothes in the bathroom. 

"Sure as hell didn't look like one from where I was standing."

“Alright, maybe it wasn’t an accident.” He chuckled. “Didn’t think she’d go that far, though. I’m kind of impressed.”

My hands shook, and my heart raced as the sight of blood - the sight of Jake's blood - threatened to pull me into full terror. “This isn’t funny.”

He bent his head down enough to catch my eyes, unable to reach out while he held the rag to his arm. "I'm okay. It's just a scratch."

Breathing out a shaky breath, I shook my head. "You shouldn't be scratched at all. Fucking stupid bitch."

Chuckling, Jake smiled. "I should get injured more often."

"What?"

"You look good, all riled up about my well-being."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "Don't get used to it." Nodding at his hand, I sighed, "Let's see."

He lifted the bloody rag from his arm, wincing slightly as the material peeled away from the wound. The cut was larger than I expected, starting from the center of his forearm and curving down toward his wrist. It wasn't nearly as deep as the last cut I’d tended to. "Guess I'm gonna have to cancel my morning boxing lessons, huh?"

"You shouldn't be out of the ring for too long," I reassured him with a sigh of relief. "But, you're telling Patrick."

"Cruel." His eyes watched as I cleaned and bandaged the cut easily. "You're good at this."

Part of me wanted to shrink into myself, to push him away from the trail of a past that still haunted me, but, to my surprise, I didn’t. Instead, I shrugged, a casual thing with more meaning than Jake would ever realize. “I had to deal with a lot of things like this growing up.”

“From the gym?”

“Some of it.”

“Did your mom…” He paused, knowing exactly how loaded the question waiting on the tip of his tongue was. “Did she hurt you like this?”

Lying would have been easier. It would have saved me from the slew of questions that would undoubtedly follow the truth. But again, I found myself opening up to him instead of shying away. “No. She favored blunt tools. Sticks and open palms, things that wouldn’t leave too noticeable of a mark.”

He nodded a brief understanding lingering in his eyes. “So, there was someone else then? Someone that made you get familiar with treating wounds and whatnot?”

My heart stopped, and I could feel my mouth open, the words, the admittance… the truth hanging on the tip of my tongue. Footsteps echoed from the stairwell, and a sigh of relief drew Jake’s attention away from me to the doorway, where Simone quickly entered. “Thank god you’re alright! Let me see!”

He waved off her concerned fussing. “I’m fine. Lena patched me up.”

“I cannot believe that Olive did this!” She huffed, examining his bandaged hand closely. “Accident or not, it’s just unacceptable.”

“I’m sure she’s all bent outta shape about it,” Jake replied with a grin.

Simone rolled her eyes. “Good to see the cut didn’t damage your poor sense of humor.”

I gathered up the garbage and closed the first aid kit, quickly moving away from the pair to collect myself. “A tiny cut isn’t enough to rid the world of my amazing charm.”

“Lena,” Simone said as I neared the doorway. I turned, looking at her as she gave me a simple nod. “Thank you for helping him.”

“It’s not a problem,” I replied, glancing at Jake before hurrying out the door and down the stairs.

It was an odd feeling that followed what could have been the biggest trauma dump I’d had since Cape Cod. Not disappointment but not relief. Something so mixed up and confusing that it sent a spike of panic through my veins. I’d almost told Jake everything. On a whim. Without any kind of prompting or an event that would force such a thing out of the cage I kept it inside. I’d almost shared the deepest, most scarred parts of myself with him of my own volition, and that was almost as terrifying as the thought of Tony waltzing through the restaurant doors like he used to all those years ago.

As I helped Nicky dish out after-shift drinks to the gaggle of gossiping co-workers, I resigned myself to tightening to locks on the cage. I trusted Jake. I cared about him. But I still felt so afraid that the truth would smother both of us. I was afraid that he would look at me differently if he knew everything, but truthfully, I was more scared of the possibility that the truth would change nothing. I was terrified that he would still look at me like I was beautiful and mesmerizing and… me. 

The group burst into cheers and hollers as Jake and Simone joined us. Sasha threw an arm around the dark-haired bartender. “An injury! Whatever will you do now, poor Jakey?”

Ari smiled into her glass. “Relax, it’s not like he can’t still use his fingers. Or his tongue.”

Sasha slapped her arm, suppressing a giggle. “I’m talking about his bartending! Dirty whore.”

“I can still bartend,” Jake reassured the Russian. “Like I said, it was just a scratch.”

Heather glanced over at Howard’s office door. “I don’t envy Olive right now.”

“It will be a miracle if this doesn’t get her fired,” Nicky added.

“She won’t get fired,” I replied, scrubbing the bartop a little harder. “My mother will have seen to that.”

Simone frowned. “Well, I hope she’s at least learned a lesson.”

I shook my head and bit back a scoff. “I doubt it.”

Jake watched me scrub the bar for a minute before everyone stopped and looked at Olive as she exited Howard’s office, big eyes free of tears and a smug grin set on her face. That fucking bitch. I made a move to follow her as she exited through the kitchen doors, but Jake’s hand reaching over the bar and taking hold of my wrist stopped me. “Relax, princess. Scowl any harder, and you’ll burst a vessel or something.”

“This isn’t funny,” Simone chided. “You could have been seriously hurt, and she doesn’t receive any punishment?”

“It’s fine, Simone.” Jake nudged her with his shoulder. “I’ve had worse.”

“Irrelevant,” she replied, turning away from him as Howard appeared. “Howard.”

The manager merely looked at her. “Yes?”

“Walk me home?” Her voice was cold. It was clear this wasn’t a question but a demand.

He tilted his head slightly but gestured for her to follow him. “Of course. Goodnight, changelings.”

The tension slowly filtered out of the room as they vanished past the windows. Sasha sighed, holding his glass out for a refill. “Well, now that blondie has that handled, who is up for dancing?”

“Me!” Ari replied instantly, shooting up from her seat and following the leather-clad Russian to the door.

“Still coming to Ozzy’s with us?” I asked, setting the dirty bar rag aside. 

Jake nodded, tossing his jacket over the bar to me. “Course I am. I gotta give Patrick the bad news.”

I laughed, not fighting with him about wearing the warm leather and joining him at the door as we followed behind our co-workers. “He’s going to be thrilled.”

Ozzy’s was buzzing with people and music when we arrived. Some Halloween decorations hung from the ceiling and the walls, an obvious attempt on Ozzy’s part to get it all up before Quinn’s birthday. We all moved through the crowd, running right into my brothers as they stood by the bar, waiting for an opening to get Ian’s attention for some drinks.

“FUCKING BULLSHIT!” Patrick hollered, looking at Jake’s arm with a scrutinizing glare.

Jake scratched the back of his head and shrugged. “Sorry.”

My brother sighed. “Well, guess we’ll have to focus on your legs or something til you’re back to a hundred.”

“Oh.” Jake looked surprised.

“What?” Patrick asked with a quirked brow. “Did you think a little cut was gonna get you outta training?”

“I mean kinda.”

“Not a chance, little brother. Not. A. Chance.” He laughed and clapped Jake on the shoulder. While my brothers moved up to the bar and ordered their drinks, Sasha, Ari, and Heather headed out onto the dance floor, and Jake and I joined Will and Prue.

"Where is she?" I asked Prue as I slid into the seat across from her. 

"Work." Prue glanced around. "She should be off soon, though."

"Arcade again this year?"

"Hell yes!" Her enthusiasm was infectious as Will followed the conversation without a clue as to what we were talking about, but still, he got excited anyway. "It's her favorite place."

"Do we need to book it?"

"Already done."

I grinned, giving her a quick high-five. "You're a saint!"

Jake asked as he sat down next to me. "What are we talking about?"

"Quinn's birthday party. You wanna join the planning committee?"

He leaned forward with that mischievous grin of his. "Desperately."

"You can be in charge of the cake," I offered, relaxing back in the booth. It wasn't something I thought would be particularly challenging, especially considering how little Quinn cared about the cake, but the slight widening of Jake's eyes told me he considered it quite the task. "You don't have to."

"I can manage a dumb cake," he insisted with that deep-set scowl that was starting to grow on me.

"Quinn could care less about the cake," I continued. "She doesn't usually even eat it. It's more for everyone else."

Will's brows furrowed. "What does she eat then?"

"Candy apples!" Patrick proclaimed as he and Peter slid into the booth, shoving Jake into my side. "Nana makes 'em special for her every year."

Peter smiled fondly. "Nana makes sure everyone gets something special on their birthday."

"An angel, that woman," Patrick added lovingly. "Always makes me the best, booziest rum cake."

Will tapped Peter's shoulder, asking with a dumb grin. "What does she make you?"

Though it was a simple question, I could see Prue's eyes light up as she answered, "Jam. She takes Lena and Quinn berry picking and makes me my jam and a big plate of jam tarts."

Peter leaned back, closing his eyes slightly. "Can't wait for my batch of cookies this year."

"Same," I replied. "I won't have to try and smuggle them to you."

"What does she make you?" Jake asked, glancing at me as he took a drink of his beer.

Before I could answer, Patrick spoke, "The real question is, what doesn't she make on Lena's birthday?"

Jake turned to my brother with a chuckle. "Should've guessed Lena got the royal treatment."

"Lena's not special," Pat insisted. "She just gets a big party because that's when she got back."

"Got back from where?"

My brother's mouth shut. He scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously as he talked over himself, trying to find something to say. Something that wasn't a lie, but that wasn't the truth either.

The truth. How was a person supposed to casually discuss how they narrowly escaped death at the hands of a rich and psychotic "ex" just a few days before turning sixteen? How could anything I said possibly explain the horrors every birthday previous to that had been filled with? The mixed emotions my birthday brought were a can of worms best left untouched, so I didn't meet Jake's curious eyes, instead letting my eyes lock onto Quinn as she emerged through the crowd. "There's the birthday girl!"

She welcomed the attention, not stopping until everyone wished her a happy, almost birthday. "All this love and attention is good for my skin." She sat down next to Peter, smudging glitter onto his shirt. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just discussing your birthday."

She clapped. "Let me guess! Prue already booked the arcade, and now you're trying to find people to dump cake and booze on?"

I rolled my eyes. "We all know I'm on booze duty."

"Til the day we die bitch." Quinn laughed. "So, who's the poor bastard on cake duty this year?" Narrowing her eyes, she pointed at Peter. "Kiwi?"

Peter rolled his eyes at her new nickname for him, a term almost everyone had adopted upon seeing the fuzz growing on his head. Secretly, Peter enjoyed it. The kiwi fuzz meant he could get his old hair back. "Nope."

Her finger turned toward Patrick, who nearly rolled out of the booth to avoid it. "Don't even try to curse me like that."

Quinn frowned, shifting her gaze to Jake, who gave her a shrug. She clicked her tongue. "Oh, you poor boy."

"I've been assured the cake isn't a big deal," Jake said, looking at me.

"Course she'd tell you that," Quinn replied. "No one has ever been able to find me a good cake."

I rolled my eyes. "That's because you're a drama queen with impossible cake standards."

She shrugged, stealing Patrick's drink as he slid back into his seat. "I've never had a cake I liked. Sue me."

"If I could, I would."

"Why have you never had a cake you liked?" Jake asked, throwing his arm over the back of the booth behind me as he relaxed into the booth's shitty cushioning.

"I blame Halloween." She gestured to the decorations Ozzy had half-heartedly started putting up. "Everyone's so focused on the candy that they start neglecting bakeries."

Prue shook her head. "I'm fairly certain bakeries thrive in October."

Quinn signed and said, "Maybe I just hate cake. God knows I've had enough shitty cake to last me a lifetime and then some."

Everyone at the table could sense the shift in her mood, but Patrick and I felt it on a deeper level. The three of us hated our birthdays. Quinn and Patrick pretended they didn't, and maybe some part of them did enjoy the attention and the gifts and the celebration, but deep down, the pain of all those birthdays spent alone lingered. 

Patrick spent every birthday on the street or among strangers until he found his way to our gym. Quinn spent hers cooking herself a cake and eating it alone while her dad was passed out on their sofa. And I spent mine either in the ocean or on the floor of a polished penthouse. Every birthday between us was spent blowing out those damn candles and making a wish. A desperate and stupid wish that would never come true. A wish that we'd each finally get what we wanted. A wish that our lives would somehow change for the better.

For Patrick, that was a home, a family of his own that loved and accepted him. It was a thing he'd found with us, but a thing that still felt like it wasn't entirely his. A damaged way of thinking that no one, not even my dad, could keep him from feeling.

For Quinn, that was happiness. She had a lot of happy moments since we became friends, but the joy and lightheartedness were still things she considered fleeting. A deep-rooted, broken part of herself that no one could repair but herself.

For me… For me, it was peace. I had good days, bad days, and the moments in between, but peace, true fucking peace, well, that was a fucking pipedream. Unlike the others, my wish hinged on a madman's whims. One that was determined to remind me this life I'd built for myself, that I'd fought and bled and killed for, wasn't permanent. Not while he lived.

Wishes were for children, yet we sat in front of the candles every year, closed our eyes, and made that same wish. Only the three of us knew, and while everyone else clapped and cheered, we all shared the same look. The look of tired hopefulness, clinging to our wishes while also preparing ourselves for the ultimate disappointment of them not coming true.

The conversation shifted, leaving the three of us sharing that look over the table as we carefully rejoined the world around us. No one noticed except Peter, who'd seen it all enough times to recognize it, and Jake. To my surprise, his eyes shifted from my face to Patrick's before they settled on Quinn. A look, realization, and something else made his face drop.

Familiarity. I realized. Jake knew what the looks on our faces meant because he had a similar experience. He watched Quinn closely for another minute, determination and resolve settling in those blue eyes like a storm. Whatever he had planned, he was going to make sure it happened.

The two of us hung out with the group for a while before we snuck out the back door and settled on the couch in the alley. Whisky was quick to jump into our laps, having taken to following us out or waiting for us on the couch. Burrowed against my chest, cloaked in the warm leather of my jacket, the cat purred contently as Jake rested his head against the alley wall. “How’s the arm?”

He turned his head slightly, glancing at me with a smile. “Worried about me, are you, princess?”

“Course not.”

“Bullshit.” He leaned over slightly, pressing his shoulder into mine. “You looked like you were gonna cry earlier.”

I rolled my eyes. “I absolutely was not!”

He chuckled, raising a brow. “No? You seemed pretty shaken up about it to me.”

That urge to tell him the truth returned, and I had to tighten my grip on it to keep it all from tumbling off my tongue. “I don’t like blood.”

“You seem fine with it when you’re boxing.”

“That’s…” I sighed, turning away from him. “That’s different.”

Jake sat up, the vulnerable curiousness that he’d shown in the locker room resurfacing. “I’m guessing it has something to do with what we were talking about earlier.”

“Jake,” I breathed out. “Please don’t.”

His fingers brushed against my leg. “As much as I wanna bug you about it… I’m not going to push it.”

“Thank you.”

“I get it,” he answered. “There are some things that just… need time.”

My finger smoothed down Whicky’s back, letting the rumbling purs lull the fear and tightness in my chest until it felt easier to breathe. “So, what kind of cake are you gonna get Quinn?”

Jake laughed. “Fuck if I know. I was just gonna ask you a million questions and get whatever you told me to.”

“That’s not how this works!” I insisted, slapping his arm. “You gotta fail on your own, just like the rest of us.”

“I’m not gonna fail.”

“Oh?” I teased. “You some kind of special hot shot baker now?”

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head at me, leaning back into his comfortable position, lazily petting Whisky’s little head as he poked it out of the top of my jacket. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I’m tingling with anticipation,” I mocked.

Jake's eyes sparkled. "I can think of a few better ways to make you tingle."

"Shut up."

*

It was always kind of weird being in an empty arcade, but I found that I enjoyed it. The games chimed and echoed their cheesy catchphrases in my ears as Prue, and I finished setting up the last of the birthday decorations. Will, Peter, and Patrick were scattered around the arcade making sure everything was ready for Quinn’s special night while the employees sat back and relaxed, knowing the drill well enough by now to know we’d refuse any kind of help.

We’d been at it for hours, making sure to cover all our bases and make the space reflect the over-the-top dramatic birthday girl. It was all just the way Quinn liked it, cheap and sparkly. Prue waved to get my attention, quickly signing, “Did you remind Jake about the cake?”

“No,” I replied. “I doubt he needs a reminder. He seemed pretty determined to get it right.”

“Text him?” She begged. “I want everything to be perfect!”

Smiling at her genuine concern, I nodded. “Aye, aye, Captain Prue.”

Hey, tough guy, don’t forget the cake.

The response was immediate. I didn’t forget the cake. Where do you want me to take it, though?

Nana’s. We’re going there after the arcade for food.

Sounds good. See you at 7.

Will exited the game area with a smile. “Everything is ready!”

Patrick and Peter both left the laser tag area with grins. “Laser tag is gonna be epic tonight!”

“Thank you, guys!” Prue sqealed, enveloping all of us in a big hug. “I hope she likes it.”

“She loves it every year, Prue,” I reassured her. “It’s going to be amazing.”

We spent the rest of the time running errands for Nana and making sure every part of Quinn’s party was going to be exactly how she wanted. It was the least we could do, and Quinn deserved every second of it. After Nana essentially kicked us all out, we waited outside the arcade for everyone to show up.

Beneath the neon lights and the distant arcade sounds, we all happily clamored together. Sasha and Scott were the first to arrive, followed closely by Heather and some of the cooks. Jake showed up later, smoking a cigarette as he hurried across the street, ears covered by one of his black beanies and his hands tucked safely in his pockets. The chilled air stung my legs as I leaned against the arcade door with a smile, arms perfectly warmed by his leather jacket. “You’re actually on time. I’m shocked.”

“I just finished dropping the cake off,” he answered, blowing smoke in my face. “Nana insisted I stay to test some of the food.”

Patrick groaned. “Lucky bastard! Nana never lets me taste the food anymore.”

Peter laughed. “Because your version of taste the food is having a four-course meal.”

“They’re coming!” Prue signed quickly as she bounced on her feet, still holding onto Will’s hand.

“Here they come,” I shouted to the rabble as Quinn and Ari rounded the corner.

Everyone cheered and sang and showered Quinn in attention as she walked, hand in hand with Ari, to the center of the crowd and bowed. “Oh my god, this shit’s even bigger than last year!”

Ari kissed her, staining her lips with the dark burgundy lipstick. “You deserve it, babe.”

I could see the blush that colored Quinn’s cheeks as she looked around at all the familiar faces with a smile. It was something she still wasn’t used to, having so many people actively here for her. After living the majority of her life with an addict father who could have cared less if she was there or not, it made sense that she’d be a bit starstruck by it all. I opened the door. “Come on, let’s go inside before everyone freezes, and this turns into a mass event rather than a birthday.”

The mixture of spooky and birthday decor fit Quinn’s personal tastes well, drawing her eyes in and bringing a bright smile to her face. “It’s fucking perfect, you guys!”

Ari tugged Quinn to the skeeball machines, giggling about how whoever got the highest score would get an illicit prize. Everyone fanned out, finding something to enjoy while Peter threw his arm over my shoulder. “Laser tag?”

“You fucking know it!” I replied with a wicked grin.

Patrick clapped Jake on the back. “We get the boy this time.”

I shrugged, confident in my skill. “Take him. I’m still gonna beat your asses.”

Jake raised a brow. “Wow, you sound real cocky right now.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Let’s make a bet,” he suggested as we slowly followed Patrick and Peter toward the laser tag door.

“I thought we were gonna bet for drinks again.”

“That’s the general bet for everyone. I’m talking about another one, just between us friends.”

I smiled, curious about the idea behind that sinful look he was giving me. “I’m listening.”

Jake stopped just outside the door and leaned against the frame, his earring poking out of his beanie as he grinned down at me. “Winner gets a whole day where the loser does whatever they want.”

“So, when I win, you’ll have to spend an entire day waiting on my every whim?”

Chuckling, he shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”

“Count me in.”

We got geared up and were standing around listening to the safety speech when Jake’s hands squeezed my hips, and his lips brushed against my ear. “You’re gonna look so good in the pictures I plan on taking of you when I win.”

His words made my mouth run dry and my body heat rise. “Pictures?”

“Mhm,” he breathed, pressing himself into me. “Let’s just say I plan on getting up close and personal with those tattoos of yours.”

I couldn’t have contained the shiver that ran down my spine even if I’d tried to. Jake’s lips curled into a smile against my ear. “Sounds like you’re gonna be really disappointed when you lose then.”

His teeth scraped against my neck, forcing me to bite my tongue to hold in a loud moan. “Good luck out there, princess.”

He joined Peter and Patrick, leaving me with nothing but a wink to fill the loss of his body against mine. I quickly scoffed at him and turned to Will and Sasha. “Let’s kick their asses.”

The match started like every match did, with both of our teams trying to execute wild half-thought-out plans before the other could dwindle our numbers. Will and Sasha went to take the high ground while I stayed low, convinced Peter would still want to conserve some of his energy. The thick fog made it hard to tell which of the neon lights that surrounded the space was one of the vests belonging to my opponents or just decoration. I stayed close to the wall, intent on using the smaller walls to duck behind if the need arose. It was a good plan, one that didn’t account for Patrick’s insanity.

He dove out of the fog, almost tackling me. I would have tried to shoot him if Peter hadn’t of emerged from the balcony to lay down cover fire and drive me forward. Ducking under the walls and hurrying through the maze of fog and lights, I made it to the other side of the room, carefully moving out from my cover to aim down the path behind me. Patrick was like a bloodhound, so I knew he would be following me. 

While my attention was on the maze I’d left behind, Jake slid out from his cover to my left. I caught the movement but turned too late. His hand grabbed the laser gun in my hand and tugged it to the side, his body moving forward just enough to press mine into the wall. I struggled against him for a minute, trying to free my gun from his grip, but with an aggravated sigh, I stopped. “Let go!”

Jake smirked. “Alright.”

While his hand loosened around my gun, he pushed himself forward and ducked his head down, his lips pressing against mine in a fervent and feverish kiss. I opened my mouth to him, tangling our tongues together as his now free hand disappeared in my hair while the other still held his gun. My head hit the wall as I tilted it back, desperately trying to give him more access to my mouth while I dropped my gun and gripped him by the hair.

The exaggerated sound of the laser tag gun going off echoed in my ears as my vest vibrated. I pulled away from his lips, looking down at my now-red vest and Jake's gun aimed at the sensors. He shot me. Looking up at his stupid smug face, my mouth fell open. He fucking shot me! Using the tip of his laser tag gun, he lifted my chin, moving his head back down until his lips hovered over mine. "Have fun buyin’ me that drink, princess."

“That’s cheating!" I slapped his arm, glaring as he pulled away with another wink. “Asshole!”

We never stood a chance. Patrick and Peter had effectively led me straight to Jake knowing full well he’d be more than capable of distracting me. And while I was lulled by the lustful need to feel Jake’s lips on mine, my brothers made quick work of my less skilled teammates. The perfect plan.

While the winners cheered as they exited the laser tag room, I scowled. Patrick laughed, squeezing my shoulders. “Don’t look so glum, sis! You put up a damn good fight at the beginning!”

“Oh shut up,” I growled shaking his arm off me. “Just figure out what drink you want, dick.”

Jake stood next to me, smug and insufferable. “So, what day works best for you?”

“Planning your little photoshoot already?” I questioned.

“Absolutely,” he answered, those fucking eyes running down the length of my body. “Got any red lingerie? I’ve got a vision.”

“I have plenty of lingerie,” I replied. “But you won’t be seeing them.”

He bit his lip. “Oh, you want a fully nude album then?”

In spite of my blushing cheeks, I scoffed at him. “You cheated. Why should I give you anything?”

“A bet’s a bet, princess.” He replied. “Unless you’re too… intimidated to pose for me.”

“November 19th. It’s a Sunday so we’ll both have the day off.”

Jake leaned forward, his breath mingling with mine. “It’s a date then.”

The remainder of the night was filled with dancing and karaoke. Quinn was having the time of her life, and I could tell that it meant a lot to her to have so many people show up for her birthday. Once it came time to head to Nana’s for food we all cashed in our tickets, walking away with shitty prizes that weren’t nearly as good as the frog I’d won last time. The air was cool and the walk was calming, though it was still difficult for me to keep my heart from beating wildly while Jake looked at me. I could practically see the scheming going on in his eyes as he examined every move I made, committing the poses he liked best to memory. 

Nana had the whole diner decorated, food set out on every table and the entire staff present ready to holler. She stood between Ozzy and Abdul as Quinn entered, her face twisting into a beaming smile. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!”

She’d never admit it, but I saw the tears building in Quinn’s eyes as she looked around at the room of people she loved and let Nana’s arms wrap around her. “Thanks, Nana.”

“Anything for my girls,” the old woman said, pinching her cheeks. “Anything for you my Quinny.”

The food was immaculate as always, comprised of Quinn’s favorite meals and of course her candy apples. When the time for cake came Jake set a box in front of the birthday girl with a nervous shrug. “I did my best.”

Grinning evilly at him she started to open the box. “We’ll see about that, bar boy.”

The grin faltered. Ari was the one that pulled the cake out of the box, laughing at the comically large peach that resembled an ass perfectly. Written on the top was a simple message that Ari read, “A Peach for the Queen. Happy birthday Quinn.”

Everyone was silent as we watched Quinn look up at Jake with glossy eyes. “Where did you get this?”

“Had a few of the bakers at the restaurant whip it up.” He tried not to look like he cared as he shrugged his shoulder. “Sorry if it’s garbage.”

Quinn shook her head and stood, quickly pulling Jake into a tight hug. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Jake.”

He stood there awkwardly for a minute before he set a hand on her back and relaxed into the hug. “No problem, Peach Queen.”

Nana and Abdul lead the song, but I was too focused on Quinn’s face to sing along with them. She looked so happy, smiling like an idiot with Ari hanging off her shoulders, pressing kisses to her head and face. Her eyes looked around the room, taking it all in with a look of wonder that I’d never seen before. Ozzy clapped loudly. “Blow out the candle dear girl!”

She stared into the flame for a minute, closing her eyes tightly as she blew the candle out. More cheering and celebrating echoed in my ears as she looked at me. It wasn’t like the other looks, not tired or dumbly hopeful, but genuinely happy instead. Patrick and I glanced at one another, surprised and emotional smiles tugging on our lips and making our cheeks hurt. 

Quinn’s wish came true. And that meant that maybe… just maybe ours could too one day.

The girls and I walked to Quinn’s apartment and settled in for our traditional sleepover. While Prue gathered the snacks together in Quinn’s tiny kitchen the birthday girl and I sat in her bed. Quinn was half laying back in a sea of pillows and soft blankets, letting me take the clips and braids out of her hair while she stared at the wall in front of her, still smiling. 

"What'd you wish for this year?" I asked, running my fingers through Quinn's hair, gently removing the rhinestones and pins.

"A million bucks." She joked before shrugging, leaning further back into me. "Seriously though, this was the first birthday I've had where I didn't know what to wish for." Quinn looked up at me with tears building in her eyes. "This is the first year I've had everything I could ever want. I'm happy."

I wiped her eyes and smiled. "That's good, right?"

"It's weird," she insisted with a laugh. "Good weird, though."

"Good." Setting her accessories on my nightstand, I nudged her. "What'd you wish for then?"

Quinn snuggled into me. "I wished that everything would stay this way. Happy."

I kissed her head. "That's a really good wish, Quinny."

*

Sweet harmonies echoed in the glass house. Anthony stood at the window, gazing out at the bright city below as he languidly swirled the wine in his glass. His ringed fingers tapped along to the sounds behind him.

People sounded so different when they were underwater. Their bodies thrashed and struggled so much slower. Unlike most would think, the cold water made the pain more pronounced and more noticeable. The body would fight to conserve heat, and in situations like this, it would only see to the prolonging of its own suffering. The ways one could… Persuade the mind in the cold were numerous and long if done properly. Hot water, however - a scream echoed out amongst the orchestra.

Hot water made the blood vessels widen. It opened itself up in turn, allowing more inflammation. The heat made bleeding out far quicker, so one had to work quicker, but Anthony trusted his associate's skills in that regard. Jules knew Anthony favored using cold water to get information, but this wasn't about information. This was a lesson. A punishment.

"PLEASE!" He closed his eyes, savoring the sound as slowly sipped his wine.

He tapped his finger against his glass twice, and Jules saw to another dip in the scalding water for their guest. The screaming added so much depth to the music, something Anthony had always enjoyed about simple moments like this. After a few seconds of muffled thrashing and quick bursts of screaming, Tony set his glass down and rolled up his sleeves, turning to greet his guest with a smile.

He looked vastly different than he had when they first grabbed him. His face was swollen, and once pristine, well-cared-for skin was now marred by deep cuts and burns. Barely conscious, he struggled to beg, but that was fine. They were past begging anyway. His measured steps clicked against the marble floor until they stopped in front of him. Taking his favorite knife from Jules, Anthony smiled as they tore his shirt open. "Let's get started, shall we?"

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake x oc #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweet bitter #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake and lena #sweetbitter jake x lena #lena harrow #sweetbitter lena #jake and lena #jake x lena #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter santos #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter tess #sweetbitter nicky

[thepaintedlady00]

Jake's POV: Halloween

TW: some mild feelings of inadequacy, man's is RUNNING in this, flirting, some very suggestive language and talk, as always mentions of alcohol, depictions of drunk idiots, a very heated make-out session, a bit of a hand job, some fingering, and the good ol' Russian cockblock!

Here's a little treat for y'all! Jake's POV of this was just too good not to share! 😂 Enjoy!

Jake watched as Lena moved through the mass of bodies, bathed in some unfathomable holy light. It might have just been a costume, some cheap dress with some cheap wings, but god, did she make it feel real. The way she playfully glared at Quinn, and the genuine amusement that followed at the sight of Ari made him suddenly feel nervous.

Looking down at his normal attire, Jake finally understood the meaning of the stripper's previous statement. It's not us you're disappointing. The costume hadn't been for Quinn's benefit but for Lena's. He was an idiot. An underdressed absolute fucking idiot.

The second she approached him, he could see that joyful light in her eyes dim… Disappointment staring back at him. He was familiar with that look, familiar with the bitter sting and the way his whole body tensed at the sight of it. Simone often had that disappointed gleam in her eyes, so one could say he'd gotten used to it. So used to it he'd usually laugh or make some flippant self-important asshole-ish remark and leave it at that. But Jake didn't feel like laughing now.

He almost felt sick. Like the disappointment in Lena's eyes made him physically want to throw up. Why was this different? He wondered. Was it simply the fact that she was disappointed? Or was it the fact that it was her that was disappointed? Then it happened… The thing that made the answer clear. Lena shoved her disappointment down, clearing it from those emerald eyes entirely, and smiled at him.

Simone would have just outright told him how she'd expected better. Howard would have made some mocking passive-aggressive comment. Literally, everyone else in this world would have done something to make him feel guilty or inadequate. And yet, there she was, smiling at him like there wasn't anything wrong… Like he was worthy of it.

What made it different was that Lena moved past it. She didn't try to make him feel anything or try to change his mind. She just smiled at him and gestured to the couple now making out behind her. "Those two are quite the pair, aren't they?"

Fuck. He looked down at his clothes again, a burning hot feeling filling his chest. Disappointment. Jake was disappointed in himself. Fuck. "I gotta go."

He heard her shocked reply, "What?" He felt her quickly reach out to try and halt his steady steps toward the door, but Jake didn't stop. His mind was made up.

That was how he ended up standing on the curb, desperately trying to catch a cab home before abandoning the foolish notion that a cab would be fast enough. 

That was how he ended up running like a madman through the streets. He shoved his way past crowds of dressed-up people, ignoring their angered shouts and focusing on the image of Lena lingering in his mind. 

He practically tore his door off the hinges, slamming it open suddenly enough to cause Hemingway to jump and scatter under his chair with a discontented hiss. Breathing heavily, Jake closed the door. "Sorry, Hem. Gotta be quick."

Quick, as it turned out, would be an almost two-hour process. The first thirty minutes were spent tearing apart the box and struggling to get the dumb costume on. The next thirty minutes were spent meticulously fixing his hair and getting the fake glasses to fit. Then Jake spent an embarrassing amount of time convincing himself to walk out the front door. "You look ridiculous."

Simone had always hated Halloween. She hated the costumes and the loud noise and staying up late and the horror and scares… Everything Jake had once loved about the holiday. He couldn't remember what Halloween had been like with his mom, but if he thought about it long enough, he could sometimes recall her blurry smile. He remembered every Halloween with Simone.

Her dad always got drunk, and her mom always tried too hard while not trying at all. As always, she was all talk and no action. She'd discuss plans with them, but it was Simone that always came through. She was the one that would take him to get a costume, and she was the one that would help him get dressed. Even though she hated it and made snide remarks about how stupid he looked, she still took him trick or treating. She didn't pretend to enjoy it, but she did it.

"Come on," Simone hissed, pulling his arm. "We're going home."

"There's still a whole block left!" He whined.

She turned and glared at him. "You look fucking ridiculous, Jake!"

She'd said as much before they left the house, but now it felt worse somehow. "It's Halloween… It's a dumb costume."

"Well, you're too old for dumb costumes. You're thirteen, for god's sake! What kind of thirteen-year-old still goes trick or treating!"

His eyes stung with tears, and as he looked around at the other kids running wild with their candy bags, he suddenly felt self-conscious. Plenty of thirteen-year-olds were in those crowds, but Jake didn't see that. He wiped his eyes with his stupid costume sleeve and nodded. "You're right. Let's go."

Simone sighed, noticing the change in him like she always did. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just… I don't want you to embarrass yourself."

"It's fine. Let's just go."

As the two walked back, Jake listened to Simone list all the reasons this was for the better. While she talked, Jake quietly decided he didn't like Halloween anymore. Not the costumes or the candy or the loud noises or staying up late. It was stupid, and he'd been stupid for enjoying it at all. 

On that Halloween night, as he lay in bed listening to the other kids laughing in the streets of Cape Cod, Jake decided he didn't like being thirteen anymore.

The conflicting feelings and the relentless echo of Someone's voice in his head quieted when he looked down at his phone and saw a slew of messages waiting for him.

"Did you seriously bail? Everyone's asking where you went. So, text me or whatever, so we know you're not dead." Ari.

"I saw you leave. Hope everything's alright. Call me if you need anything." Ozzy.

"Hey, asshole, where the hell did you run off to? Look, you don't have to dress up or whatever, but you can still lighten up a bit. Just text someone. You might be annoying, but no one wants you to be in any trouble." Quinn.

"Hey… I, uh, hope you're not sick or dead or anything. You, uh, left pretty quick, so everyone's pretty worried about you. Call me if you need anything. Happy Halloween, Jake." Lena.

Jake found his feet moving before his mind had the consciousness to tell them to. At first, he felt ridiculous. Old self-conscious fears of someone telling him he looked stupid or saying he was too old to be dressing up plagued him for a few blocks. But, the closer he got to the bar, the less he cared about what anyone else thought. And then he stepped inside and found her in the low lighting, red hair glowing and wings framing her body in a way that made his heart race.

Watching her eyes widen, and her glossy perfect lips part in shock made the whole thing worth it. He moved around everyone in his way until there, standing among the crowd searching for him, she appeared. Her green eyes found him, and that nervous tension in his gut was replaced by another tension. A need to have her.

As the two drifted closer, he found himself unaware to keep his eyes from wandering. He took in every detail, filthy thoughts… Images of what he wanted to do to her - what he wanted her to do to him… All of it paused at the sound of her soft, slightly horse greeting, "Hey."

"Hey," he answered with an involuntary smile.

She made a quick gesture to his costume and hid a smile of her own. "I thought you didn't do costumes?"

His face suddenly felt hot as he chuckled. "Usually, I don't. But, I figured, why the hell not?"

The awkwardness that hung between them evaporated the second she slid her body right next to his, a long delicate finger dragging down the cheap buttons of his costume. "You know… I've always wanted to fuck a Ghostbuster."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"That your way of saying you're not interested?" She asked, looking up at him through her long lashes.

For a moment, Jake wanted to laugh at her. How she could ever think he'd be anything but interested was laughable. Shaking his head, he answered, "Oh, I'm interested. Always thought girls in angel costumes were sexy."

He watched that playful look grow. "Why's that?"

"I don't know." His eyes drifted again to the soft curve of her neck and the supple cleavage her pretty white dress allowed. Those thoughts were back again, louder than before, impossible to ignore. He wanted her. More than anything, he wanted her to want him. "But I am very interested in seeing that dress above your hips and those legs wrapped around my waist while you moan my name."

Her pupils dilated as she laughed, her body pressing into his. "These wings aren't the best quality, but they'd be a good place to pull on, you know, to help bounce me."

"That's a very good idea." The image instantly filled his mind, and his hands instinctively grabbed fistfuls of her dress. "Though, I am very tempted to just rip it all off you."

"How blasphemous." Her eyes shifted, and it was like he could see the decision being made. "Meet me in the alley?"

"Are you-"

"I'm not drunk or high or anything." She lifted herself on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was far too short to satiate the burning hunger building inside him. She pulled away, whispering the exact words he'd wanted to hear, "I want you."

His fingers traced down her spine, testingly tugging on the base of the wings. "Good, because there's nothing I want more than this."

She pulled away, and his eyes drifted down the length of her. A finger tapped beneath his chin, drawing his attention back to those damn green eyes. "Don't keep me waiting."

Couldn't even if I wanted to, he'd almost said. "I wouldn't dream of it, princess."

He watched her as she slowly made her way through the crowd and out the back door, hips swaying and those pretty eyes of hers catching hid right before she disappeared out the alley door. Holy shit. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest. Pounding so hard he thought he'd break a bone. 

Jake was anxious, buzzing with thrilling anticipation that made him want to run across the alley to the woman waiting for him. Sadly, he knew the feeling of Quinn and Ari's eyes too well. They watched him from their booth and giggled together as they continued drinking. He was hoping to be discreet. An unlikely thing, but one he wanted to attempt anyway. The last thing he and Lena needed was their loud teasing.

So, Jake stopped by the bar, ordered a drink, and acted like nothing had changed. He made small talk with Patrick and Katie, and Oz before the group of bikers came flooding in, providing a perfect cover. He molded into the crowd, carefully weaving through them and out the alley door. From there, it was quick, his feet moving as quickly as he could make them until he opened that last door and saw her standing there.

She froze, halting the obvious packing she'd been doing, and just watched him as he closed the door behind him. Lena looked cold, her costume not providing her much warmth while she waited for him. Jake almost asked her if she wanted a jacket, but that was when she moved forward and pressed her chilled lips to his. Her fingers curled into his costume, and Jake lost any notion of nervous anticipation.

She was here. She wanted him.

Their bodies moved with one another like they'd been made to. Jake pulled her dress up, exposing the soft skin of her bare legs to the brisk air. Lena shuddered against him, breaking away from his lips for a split second to gasp. Heat coursed through him with every sound she made. Pulling her leg up over his hip, he turned them, pressing her into the brick wall and swallowing the whines she made before he pulled away.

His lips stayed as close to hers as he could get them, breath fanning across her face as he breathlessly said, “Take your underwear off.”

She bit her bottom lip, and it took every ounce of control to keep him from ripping them off of her. His eyes drank in the sight of her, bending down to slide the silky garments off. "Better?"

Jake’s hands slid up higher, fingers gliding along the curve of her ass with a nod. God, he'd wanted this for so long, and now… He had to keep himself in check, or this would be over too fast. His hips pressed into hers, forcing another moan from her lips. Keep it together. “Yeah, that’s better.”

“Fuck." Her hands fisted in his hair, tugging softly for one second before she moved them to the front of his shirt and pulled until the buttons popped open.

Fuck. He groaned, helping her get his arms out of the fabric. The feeling of her soft palms running along his bare chest and her nails digging into his back made him almost lose himself. “God damn.”

He hoisted her up, using the wall to help steady her as her legs wrapped around his waist. Reaching between them, he tried to pull the focus back onto her. He needed her to come first. He needed to make sure she enjoyed this just as much as he was. His skilled fingers circled her clit, eliciting sounds that, in Jake's mind, only further proved how goddamn perfect Lena was. 

"Jake." The way she moaned his name and moved herself more desperately against him only made the fire in him burn hotter. When her head tilted back, he didn't waste the chance to latch his mouth onto the gorgeous column of her throat, kissing, sucking, biting, trying to consume her as she had consumed him. "Couch. Now."

Jake almost came right then. The wanton sound of her voice… An order but at the same time a plea. It sent him backward without a second thought, carefully stumbling until his ass hit the old sofa. For a split second, he regretted choosing the alley. It was dirty and dingy… Not what she deserved for their first time. But that moment came and went as Lena's mouth locked back onto his.

The feel of her tightening around his fingers as she pulled his dick free of the costume and wrapped her hand around him. It felt like lightning struck him, filling him with an immeasurable amount of pleasure. His mouth fell open as he mumbled for the wings on her back, desperately pulling her down harder. “Fuck, Lena!”

Withdrawing his fingers, Jake angled his hips, settling his sensitive, pulsing dick settled between the lips of her pussy. She didn't stop the steady rocking of her hips, and he didn't stop pulling her. Each movement of her hips made the tip of him catch against her clit, and Jake watched with lustful eyes as the sensation drove her mad.

God, she was beautiful. Gasping and moaning against his lips, sharing his breath like it was the only oxygen she needed. When her eyes opened, and the blown green of them met his, Jake felt like he'd combust. Lena's eyes mirrored his. Desire, lust, hunger but also that speck of a thing… That feeling that neither of them had mentioned aloud. Passion and vulnerability. Trust and intimacy. Things he'd never felt before. Things he'd never expected to find in her eyes.

This was real. It was more than a quick fling - more than the sinful urge to have what he wanted, an urge he was more than used to. She was real. What he felt for her… That was more real than anything Jake had known.

His heartbeat skipped around, fear stealing the breath from his lungs. This was real. It was different and good, and… he didn't deserve it.

“Jake." The soft whisper of his name, her voice, was enough to pull him from that spiral of uncertainty. Her hand moved between them, carefully guiding him where he - both of them - wanted to be most.

“Come on, princess,” he encouraged, shoving any doubt and fear from his mind, focusing on her. Just her. He roughly tugged on the straps of her dress, wanting… No needing for more. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ONE ANOTHER!” That good for nothing, god damn fucking Russian!

Both of them froze, and Jake watched a fury that matched, no, surpassed his own fill Lena's eyes. She whirled her head around, casting that hellish gaze on the drunken Russian. “SASHA!”

Quinn and Ari drunkenly scrambled through the doorway after him. Jake groaned, head falling back against the shity cushion. God damnit. "This is cheating!”

Ari hiccupped. “You can’t just barge in on them!”

“This is America, lesbians! I can do whatever I want!” Sasha yelled words slurred and a glassy look in his eyes.

She moved off Jake’s lap, shoulders set and fists clenched, clearly seconds away from a fight. He shoved himself back into the costume and grabbed her arms as she began to unleash that anger on the drunken crowd. "Are you guys fucking serious?! Our sex is not any of your business, and you absolutely have NO RIGHT barging out here when you know we’re-”

Sasha’s watch beeped. Midnight. “I WIN! Pay up, you vaginas! I WIN!”

As he celebrated his victory, Jake forced his angry breaths out of his lungs. He'd fucking kick Sasha's ass later. That is, if there was anything left to kick once Lena was through with him.

“On my god!” She groaned, frustratedly fixing her dress.

Ari and Quinn fished cash out of their costumes with huffy sighs. “You guys couldn’t have jumped on each other like two minutes earlier?”

I swear to god… “I’ll fucking kill you.”

The rest of the night was spent in seething silence. Neither of them wanted to have the dressed discussion of what almost happened… Or face the reality of the fact that they both wanted nothing more than to finish what they'd started. Sasha loudly boasted again about his victory, and Jake scowled. And maybe kill a Russian too. When the time came for the idiots to crash at Lens's house, Jake walked them all home beside her. That frustration and deep-rooted ache coursing through his body made it hard to think of anything other than the feel of her body against his. When she turned and offered him a sigh, he felt some of the weight ease. 

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," she said, still sounding as disappointed as he felt. He realized then she likely thought that this would be a wake-up call or something for him. Lena Harrow likely thought this minor - annoying and fucking ridiculous - interruption would be enough for him to give up the seemingly endless pursuit of her.

And so, before she could disappear into her apartment building, Jake reached out and stopped her. He pulled her back to face him and kissed her. It wasn't as ravenous as their kiss in the alley had been and not nearly as heated as the others they'd shared over the months that had passed. This kiss was softer, a bit shy… It was a silent assurance that tonight hadn't changed his mind.

You are not some quick thing to me. He wanted to tell her. But, as he looked down at her flushed cheeks and dark eyes, he knew he didn't need to. Lena felt it. She felt that hum of something between them. And so, he set his forehead against yours with a simple, "Night, princess."

"Goodnight, tough guy," she replied, just as simply.

By the time he'd gotten back home, most of his anger had faded. Jake was going to get Sasha back for the interruption, of course, but for now, he focused on having spent this Halloween among friends. He tossed his shoes into a corner, slammed his door shut, and promptly fell into his bed.

Hemingway jumped up to join him, pawing at Jake's costume for a minute before he gently rolled into his chest with soft purs. Chuckling, Jake gave the cat what he wanted and scratched his head. "At least one of us had a good night."

Meow.

Staring up at his ceiling, he sighed. "Now that I think about it, my night was still pretty good."

On that Halloween night, as he lay in bed listening to the city noise, Jake decided Halloween wasn't as stupid as he thought. That night he smiled, quietly wondering what Lena would want him to dress up as next year.

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweet bitter #sweetbitter #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter lena #lena harrow #jake and lena #jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x oc smut #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweebitter ocs #cut pov #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter sasha #happy halloweeeeeeen

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

Chapter 12: Hors d'Oeuvres

TW: Simone's POV, the sexual tension between these two fuckers is going to drive me insane 😂, as always mentions of alcohol, drugs and sex, minor panic attack, not so fun flashbacks, language, Olive only gets worse, Tess is back so a bit of drama, lots of teasing (it's Jake and Lena, of course, there's teasing), a bit of light foreplay, some sexy "we have to be quiet" content 🤭, vaginal fingering, hickeys, minor cliffhanger? Enjoy y'all! The editing was a bit glitchy for this chapter, so please take mistakes with a grain of salt!

Scarlet petals felt like silk beneath Simone's fingertips. The intricate arrangement of flowers that now occupied the most expensive vase she'd owned was a most welcome addition to her home. They accentuated the warmth and life her modest apartment had been staged with and, in Simone's opinion, added to the image of what she meticulously designed for the small space. So beautiful, she thought, quickly admiring the note. "D'un ami à l'autre." One friend to another. She smiled again, mentally noting to preserve one of the flowers later.

It was an odd thing, having a friend. She was so used to being alone that she'd nearly forgotten the feeling of true companionship. Tess had been her friend, or as close to one as someone like her had. She was young and naive and so easy to sway on practically anything. Anything but Jake, she coldly reminded herself. Simone could see the selfish jealousy in her eyes when she confronted her in the wine cellar. She could see that Tess felt threatened by her importance in Jake's life. Judging from multiple half-tended relationships, Simone knew she would be a problem. Problem, as it turned out, was far too tame a word for Tess.

Simone was rarely surprised by people, but Tess' desperate selfish need to have Jake led her down quite the unforeseen path. Sleeping with Howard, she could have predicted. She was young and easily influenced, so seducing her would be easy on Howard's part. But trying to convince him to fire Simone… That was the real shock. It failed, of course, no thanks to Howard, Jake, or anyone other than herself.

Simone was strong, independent, and not the one to try and outmatch. It only took her one look at Tess to realize something was amiss, and with some well-placed listening and a bit of applied pressure finding out about Tess' intimate relations with Howard had been easy. One call to Maddie Glover, a dear and useful tool, and Simone had secured her position in less than a day.

Jake took the news poorly, of course, but after a few small stretches of the truth and some comforting words, he fell back in line. Or so she'd thought. Pulling one of the red petals of the flower, Simone grit her teeth. Red was a hideous color. One Simone hadn't noticed until she came into the picture.

Lena Harrow. Lena Glover. Unlike the others, she was difficult to get a grip on. Confident and observant and just as cunning as Simone was. She'd shown her intelligence and strength on her first day, and she'd shown Simone she was a threat… Another problem. But, this time, she refused to be caught off guard.

The relationship budding between her and Jake was one that Simone recognized as different instantly. With other back waiters and hostesses, Jake had a singular focus. He'd sleep with them once, maybe more if the sex was good, but he would always drop them and return to her side the second she called. Tess had only gotten what she wanted so badly because Simone prompted Jake to give it to her. Their emotional connection had been a shock, the sincerity of his care for her a threat she'd not thought possible. It was nothing concrete, though, nothing she couldn't handle.

Lena was different. From what he'd told her, what she could see on the surface, and what the ever-chittering group of drug-addicted pawns had been babbling about, they'd not slept together. Jake had obviously pursued such in the girls' first months, but somewhere along the way, his focus had changed. He started to care about the red-headed rebel. He cared so much that he began keeping secrets from her and defending the girl he insisted he wasn't sleeping with. But, more than all that, he'd denied her.

She'd used their code, tried and true, never failing, and he'd said no. Such a child, she complained to herself as she got dressed. The denial was bad enough, but he'd brought up Fred and Etienne in some desperate attempt to punish her, to lord her past misjudgments over her head.

Fred, Serena's husband, had been an old flame. There was once a time she actually cared about him… Perhaps even loved him. He was suave and rich and intelligent, but she couldn't commit to him, knowing what he offered was not everything that she'd wanted. So, he'd taken up with Serena… Or had been entertaining her on the side all along. They'd both betrayed her. Losing a friend and lover all at once hurt, but she'd learned her lesson.

Etienne had been different. He had everything she could have ever wanted and offered her more. Etienne had been her one shot at a real life. He'd given her everything she could have wanted - a vineyard in France, money and freedom, and the prospect of a family of her own. Even if she'd disliked his loud and very involved family, Etienne had been her ticket out of this miserable life, and she'd lost it.

Simone remembered his words in the alley as though he'd spoken them to her yesterday. “Simone, you haven’t changed. Look around.” She examined the apartment she’d had since she moved here, the furniture she’d carried with her from Cape Cod, and even a few things from that perfect life in France. Her eyes settled on the clawfoot tub… the one she’d been so proud to keep. So adamant about making it fit into the odd little space. “Same job, same bartender, even the same lipstick. Still incapable of actual intimacy.”

She'd always been told she was colder than everyone else, less inclined to form intimate relationships with those that didn't capture her interest or have anything to offer her, but to hear it from him was different. It hurt to hear Etienne, a man she’d once thought was perfect, tell her he had not wanted to see her again… tell her she was frozen in her ways. She wasn’t used to the feeling, not after going to such lengths to ensure she would always have everything she needed.

Now here she was. Same city. Same job. Same apartment. Same lipstick. Stuck with the immature child of a bartender that she’d brought up and all the attitude and bullshit he always put on her shoulders. Simone glared into the mirror as she carefully applied the red lipstick. Howard had been right that night, not that she’d ever admit it to his face. She had nowhere to go… nothing to do with her life but fight to stay on top. She’d let far too much go in the past months with Howard’s so-called changes to the restaurant and Scott’s inability to stick to the damn menu, and now with Jake’s sudden irrational need to defy her at every turn.

Simone fixed her hair, ensuring no strand was out of place, as she looked over the page she’d taken out of Howard’s scheduling book with a thin smile. She’d left far too much up to chance… up to other people far less competent and nowhere near committed enough, and now it was time that changed. If she couldn’t count on anyone else to do the right thing, she’d just have to do it herself.

Did you get my gift? The text message on her phone brought her back to the beautiful red roses on her kitchen table.

They’re beautiful. She replied.

Have a delightful day, mon ami. Do let me know if there is anything you need in the meantime. Speak soon.

With her head held high, she waltzed through the front door. Simone always took her time entering to admire the incredible space that fuelled more like home than anywhere else. She loved every inch of it. The green walls and pink chairs, right down to every tiny scuff mark that marred the wood floors and chip in the paint. Her face hardened, nearly becoming a full scowl at seeing the new flower arrangements.

The orchids, an outdated memorial dedicated to Howard's late wife, had been bad enough, but in the past few months, Howard had taken it to another level. The new bright red sword lilies made the space look cheap. The old, pristine look of the restaurant clashed against the modern arrangement and bold color. It was hideous. Truly a new low for Howard's idiotic game of changes. 22West didn’t need changes. It didn’t need to be modernized as Howard claimed. It was perfect, every inch, just as it was.

She ran her hands over the railings as she ascended the stairs. This place was like the finest web spun by the most talented and dedicated spider. The spider spent years on it, perfecting it and meticulously building it to be the jewel of this half-rotten harsh city. And they would see it all torn down to make way for some new and cheap string. Not on her watch. 

Simone let out a slight huff of air before continuing to examine the space before everyone else came in with their loud noise and idle gossip. She looked over every table, ensuring each was free of scuffs and markings before Howard and the cooks joined her. They stayed out of her way, Howard only offering her a nod of recognition - a symbol if anything, that he now recognized her as the player she was. She returned it with a nod, though she knew he was far lesser than she was. 

Jake was early today, joining Nicky behind the bar, already dressed for his shift and looking put together or as put together as he got. From the top floor, she watched him, offering a simple smile when he looked up to acknowledge her, and then the front door opened, and that hideous red that matched the flowers came waltzing in. He greeted her instantly, smiling… looking as he had all those years ago when he was just a happy-go-lucky boy. She missed that look, and in an instant, her simmering feelings of resentment toward the girl turned into a roaring fire. Why did she bring out such innocent beauty in him when she couldn’t? Lena leaned over the bar, straightening his tie and playfully tapping his chin with her finger. If Simone had been holding a glass, it would have shattered.

Lena may have been a Glover by blood, but she held nothing of her aunt's determination, strength, brilliance, nor her mother's grace, finesse, and wisdom. She was no spider. Just another insect, winged and hiding behind fading beauty. She wreaked havoc on the delicate web with her noise and her flapping. Her very presence here weakened the strength this place had worked so hard to establish. But Simone saw her for what she was. She saw her and refused to let another little bug bring the downfall of the one place she could call hers. 

With a deep-set scowl, she watched Lena happily skip toward the kitchen doors with Jake watching after her, but this time she saw something else as well. Standing off to the side, Howard watched her go, a look of fondness and something even deeper plain on his features. Interesting, she thought to herself. Maybe Howard’s sickening attraction toward young girls would finally come in handy.

*

I sat with my arms wrapped tightly around myself, shivering and sniffling. The city buzzed around me, blurry and too loud for my inebriated senses. The alley pavement provided little warmth as I curled into the chilled brick. God, this was pathetic. The loud purr of an approaching engine and the hazed glow of headlights filled me with fear. That fear motivated me to stand, turn, run, or try anyway.

My skin scraped along the pavement as my body, reeling and disoriented from the drugs I'd taken, crumpled to the ground instantly. I began pulling myself across the ground with a whine I could only describe as animalistic. I'm not going back, I thought, half determined and half afraid. I won't let him take me back.

Two warm hands touched my skin, and I howled, begging and pleading and weakly fighting their grip off me until they grabbed my arms and forced me to still. "I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I'm sorry, Tony, please…"

"Lena," the voice whispered, soft and soothingly, as his hands moved to my face. I flinched away, nearly knocking myself out on the brick wall. "Look at me. Look at my face."

No, I told myself, though my body had instantly complied. My vision swam, my eyes slowly honing in on the familiar face of the tenderhearted biker. "D… Dom?"

He nodded, loosening his grip on me. "It's me. You're safe."

"I heard his car… I… He…"

"It was just my bike," he explained. "He's gone. Remember?" The fuzzy memories of snow and blood and a deafening gunshot echoed in my brain, but it was quick and fleeting, almost like a dream. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"No!" I shouted, withdrawing from him. "They can't see me like this. I don't…" My lips quivered as tears slid down my cheeks. "I don't want them to be disappointed in me."

Dom settled onto the ground, holding my hands in his. "They love you, Lena. Nothing you do will ever change that."

"No one else could ever love you. Not like I do." His voice filled the word love with a rotten and tainted feeling. I would have rather been punched… Beaten beyond recognition that felt that feeling. "They can't love me… Not like this."

With a gentle sigh, he carefully lifted his thumb to my forehead. "Get that brainwashed bullshit out of your head. Your dad's been looking for you all night, Ozzy's got everyone on the streets looking, and your idiot brothers have been to nearly every drug den in this goddamn city. Hell, Quinn's even got dancers asking about you." He lifted my chin, melting my eyes. "And I ran six red lights to get here when one of my boys called sayin' he saw you. That's love, Lena. Not the possessive and situational obsession that the rich prick bullied you into thinking was love."

"I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I… I'm so sorry…"

Dom's arms were around me instantly, carefully crushing me to his chest. "It's okay. Nobody's mad at you. There's nothing to apologize for."

"But I… I didn't call you…" I cried into his shirt. "You told me to call…"

"All that matters is you're safe." Dom smoothed his hand over my head. "Come on, slugger, let's get you home. Think you can hold onto me that long?" I nodded as Dom lifted me into his arms. Then, as if he could sense my unease as we neared the street, he squeezed me tight. "Don't worry, kid, nothins getting past me."

The softness of my bed eased me awake, but it was the loud snores coming from the front room that genuinely made me feel safe. Dom stayed, as he always did. No matter what, Dom was there when I needed him. Rain or snow or sun, he'd come for me. I lay in bed a minute longer, just listening to the stillness of my apartment. I was here, and I was safe. For a moment, I recalled the feeling of a warm hand on my forehead and the soft Russian voice soothing me. But that was replaced by a painful burn in my chest that forced the memory away and urged me to move… To avoid feeling that loss again.

I made my way out to the living room, quietly peeking over the back of the couch where Dom had sprawled out as much as possible, one hand dangling off the edge and the other tucked under the big stuffed tiger Jake had won me. Looking at him, drooling on my things, I couldn't see the hardened drug-dealing biker. In this quiet moment, he was just Dom, the guy that loved watching rom-coms with Peter and me while my dad worked, the guy that followed me on dates and sat two tables down just in case I needed him, the guy that had answered my hoarse and desperate call that night in the snow.

Dom was many things. Drug dealer. Biker. Babysitter. A protector. An idiot. But, above all of them, he was a good person. He acted like some dangerous and hardened man that dealt drugs because he liked power and money, and he was that to a small extent. But, the real Dom was more like another annoying big brother to those he cared about. He dealt drugs to make money, but it didn't go to an empire or himself but to his boys and their families that needed it and people in the community like Nana, Abdul, Quinn, and even Prue.

I pulled the light covering over his arm and entered the kitchen, quietly making breakfast before heading in for my shift. Dom slept soundly, only spurring when a noise echoed down the hall of the building. He was up instantly, pulling the gun from beneath the tiger and listening for a moment before he moved to check. "It's just my neighbors," I tried to tell him, but Dom went anyway.

He opened my front door and discreetly walked the long hallway once, twice, before returning. “Told ya nothin’ would get past me,” he said with pride as he cautiously checked the windows. “The little cunt’s too scared to face me after what happened last time.”

My jaw clenched at the unpleasant memory. “Yeah, you really did a number on him.”

“Sorry,” Dom said as he leaned next to me. “I know you don’t like thinking about that.”

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “Ozzy says it’s good to talk about things that make you uncomfortable sometimes. Something about letting the bad out or whatever.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like Ozyy’s been watching too much daytime television again.”

I smirked. “You, of all people, don’t get to judge his guilty pleasures, Mr. Darcy.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Dom replied, rolling his eyes. “I was drunk off my ass when I told you that.”

“And I’ll never forget it.”

“Bitch.”

“Dickhead.”

A comfortable silence settled between us as I gently tended the eggs in the hot pan. Dom watched me for a minute before finally asking, “How was the club?”

The club. A blush rose to my cheeks as I remembered the heated moans Jake had made in that shitty bathroom. My heart thudded quickly in my chest with the memory of his dark eyes and his hands on me. “It was good.”

His brow quirked, and he made a face. “I’m gonna pretend not to notice that very obvious look you’ve got.” I chuckled, mumbling a quiet thanks before he continued, “Eddie, didn’t give you any trouble?”

“Nope. Didn’t even see him inside,” I told him. “Eddie’s an idiot, but he knows better than to come looking for a fight Dom. Especially after last time.”

His roar of laughter made a part of me ease. “It was pretty hilarious watching you scream at him like he was some dumb teenager.”

“I screamed at you, too,” I recalled with a pointed look. “You were both being fucking stupid.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “Well, I’m glad you had a fun time.”

Looking over at him, I sighed. “Thanks for coming up here. You know I appreciate it.”

Dom shrugged. “Ain’t that what babysitters do?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I waved him off and plated the eggs. “Go sit down before I change my mind about sharing breakfast with you.”

Breakfast with a drug dealer usually would have been an awkward affair, but sitting next to Dom on my couch, I could only smile at the fond memories I had eating his shitty breakfast attempts when I’d stay at his place to get high. It wasn’t something I ever expected of him, but rather something he insisted on doing to ensure his best customer was alright the morning following a bad trip. Getting to repay the favor now felt good, and if the way Dom scarfed the simple omelet down meant anything, he agreed. 

After cleaning up the dishes and getting ready for work, Dom gave me a ride, insisting that he was headed that way to begin when we both knew he was just being overly cautious. He took his helmet from me and nodded to the front door. “Have a good day, slugger.”

“You too,” I answered. “Try not to-”

“Get arrested, I know.” He rolled his eyes and put the helmet off, giving me a final wave before riding off.

I rarely came in through the front doors to start my shift, opting to take the far less conspicuous alley entrance instead, but today I didn’t care whether or not the flock of coworkers swarmed me. The door slid open, sunlight filling the space with a soft glow that made it look as magical as I’d once thought it was. Light scattered along the back wall, casting colors through the various glass bottles of wine and other alcohol in a rainbow of light hues. Jake turned his head and smiled, and suddenly I liked coming in through the front door. 

“You’re later than usual,” he remarked with a light, teasing tone. “Long night?”

Cheeky fucker, I thought to myself as I approached the bar with a shrug. “It was alright, I guess.”

His brow lifted. “Just alright?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I did, but my jaw is killing me today.”

Jake shook his head, chuckling. “That sounds rough.”

I shrugged. “Eh, it could be worse. How was your night?”

“Perfect,” he said without hesitation. “Though I do owe a friend a pretty big favor.”

Using one of the bar chairs to prop myself over the counter, I fixed his crooked tie, gently tilting his head up when his gaze dropped to my boobs. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Hopping down, I made my way through the kitchen, greeting the staff by name as I walked up the stairs and into the locker room, sliding past Sasha and Ari as they made their way out. Will exited the bathroom, smoothing down his hair. “Hey, are we still on for our lesson Sunday?”

“Yeah,” I answered, opening my locker and turning to smile at him. “I picked up a very impressive selection of cheeses for our snack plate.”

“Sounds good. See you at eight?”

“Eight it is!”

As Will turned to leave, he nearly ran face-first into Simone, who’d merely regarded him with pursed lips and a slight nod of her head as he maneuvered around her. I focused on changing quickly, not wanting to risk further confrontation with her, especially not while Jake was here. The only thing keeping Simone from meeting my fist was him… was how desperately he wanted us to get along. I knew that was impossible, but Jake still saw Simone through the rose-tinted glasses she’d made and strapped to his head. As one who’d once had a similar pair of glasses, I knew how hard it was for true color to show through. I didn’t care about her, but I cared about Jake. So, I’d bite my tongue, and I’d ignore her.

“It seems like tonight is going to be rather hectic,” she said, effectively ruining my plan to simply coexist in silence.

I could count the times Simone had approached me for a conversation on one hand. And each of those times, it'd been clear her motives were less than genuine. I glanced at her over my shoulder. "Yeah, it looks that way."

For a minute, it seemed like that would be the end of it, but then she closed her locker. She checked herself in the mirror and cautioned, "You should be careful around Howard. He’s always had a taste for younger girls. Our previous hostess was a true statement to the lengths he’d go to in order to… have his cake and eat it, if you will. Poor Becky never saw the transfer coming.” She smiled a bit, looking at me through the reflection. “She did make quite the fuss about it, which certainly ruffled Howard’s feathers. And then there was Tess, though that was deemed a mutual agreement. Still, it’s no less predatory.”

I looked at her momentarily, trying to gauge why she’d be sharing this with me. A ploy for my favor? Or a trick meant to make me feel uneasy about my place here? Either way, the absolute disbelief that filled me remained. “A rather ironic warning coming from you.”

She turned sharply, sending me a deathly look. “This again?”

“I don’t know what your game is, Simone, and I honestly don’t care.” I closed my locker and turned to her. “I just find it funny how hypocritical of Howard’s urges you are given your own are rather similar."

"What's funny," she started with a dry humorless laugh, "is how you still have the audacity to speak like you know anything… To turn away every olive branch, I extend to you to allow you to avoid potentially compromising situations."

I shook my head. "Like I said, I'm not here to play your game. Have a good service, Simone."

No one would be having a good service tonight. Orders came flooding in as the servers tried to discreetly rush specific tables that had apparently been overbooked. I shifted between line and dish before hustling out to help keep the bar stocked as the number of guests waiting for a table indulging themselves in a drink or two grew. Sliding behind Jake, I replaced the ice bucket. "Are you two good on bottles?"

They're both turned to take a quick look at the shelves. "Good here," Nicky replied.

"Should be good til close," Jake said, gaze sliding down my face. "Thanks, Princess."

My body hummed as the vivid image of shoving him up against the bar and tearing his shirt off filled my head. "Just doin' my job."

Howard walked briskly, eyes wildly scanning the dining room as if his life depended on it. Though, I suppose it did, in a way. This restaurant had been a large chunk of his life. He lived and breathed through this lifeless space's success, and over the years, that seemed to have taken its toll. Jake and I watched him stride into the kitchen and loudly demanded to know what was taking so long. 

The bartender smirked beside me. "Sounds like Howard's having a bad night."

"You don't need to look so pleased," I told him with a smile. "This scheduling bullshit affects all of us."

"I'm a ball of energy," he assured me. "I can do this all night."

I clicked my tongue, polishing a glass. "If you're doing this all night, that means you won't get to come to Ozzy's. Which would be a damn shame since I'll be behind the bar tonight."

Jake tilted his head slightly. "And that affects me?"

"I would assume so, considering how you can't seem to take your eyes off me every time I'm behind a bar."

Shifting closer, he grabbed a menu from behind me, pinning me against the shelves. "Maybe I'm just imagining what you'd look like on top of one, moaning my name."

His heated words affected me more than I could logically explain. Finally, I straightened up, putting us chest to chest. "I'll keep that in mind tonight."

He turned, handing menus to two guests before turning his head and sending me a wink. I moved back into service, but this time whenever I followed one of the servers with plates, Jake's eyes following me made my body ache. Indulging both our sexual curiosities in the club had been a mistake if I wanted to continue fooling myself into thinking I wasn't going to fuck Jake. As our eyes locked across the dining room, it became crystal clear that it was only a matter of time before we both tossed aside the flimsy rules and gave into that base desire.

Howard gently took hold of my arm and led me off to the side of the dining tables. "I need you to get something from the wine cellar."

"Of course. What vintage?"

"The 1806 Château D'yquem."

My jaw dropped. "Howard, that's a 300,000-dollar bottle."

He nodded, stiffly gesturing to the table across the balcony. "One of our esteemed soigne guests has insisted on having it."

"Is he some kind of multimillionaire?" I asked, still in shock that someone could afford something so extravagant.

"Yes," he replied. "Quickly, please."

I moved down the stairs sliding through the kitchen doors and into the wine cellar, where hushed voices made me pause. "What were you thinking?" Simone?

"It was the only thing I could think of. And I… I wanted to do it." Olive. My jaw clenched as I stood listening.

"You look ridiculous!" Simone replied. "It's splotchy and off-tone. You should have at least gotten some help."

Olive sniffled slightly. "Do you think she'll be mad?"

"No," Simone said, honestly softer. "She won't be because we're going to fix it."

"Thank you, Simone."

"Breathe, little one," she cooed as if she were speaking to a child. "And do what you came here to do. If you want to show her you're better and more deserving, you must do better."

Olive took a few stuffy breaths. "I will."

Their footsteps echoed off up the other entrance. I was so focused on figuring out what their conversation meant that I didn't hear someone joining me in the stairwell. "You alright?"

I jumped at the unexpected sound of Jake's voice in my ear and would've fallen the last two steps if he hadn't steadied me. "Holy fuck!" I gasped, turning and slapping his arm. "Jesus, don't sneak up on me!"

He, of course, had the audacity to smirk at me. "Sorry, princess. I wasn't expecting to see you standing on the stairs. You lost or?"

"Yeah, I'm lost," I taunted, continuing down the steps. "Not like I grew up running wine to tables or anything."

Jake followed, searching the racks across from me. "So, why were you standing on the stairs? Eavesdropping?"

I bit my lip, watching him for a minute as I weighed my options. I didn't want to lie to him, but it felt like bringing up Simone now… After everything that had happened between us would only put it all at risk. Sighing, I finally replied, "It was just Olive bitching about her hair and Simone cooling her off. Nothing interesting."

"Why hide then?"

"Olive's a psycho," I said. "Figured I'd be less likely to fall down any stairs if I just avoided her altogether."

"Probably smart."

"Despite what my brothers say, I am rather good at making smart choices."

His dark eyes flashed up to mine. "Like giving a bartender head in a club bathroom?"

I smirked. "That was impulsive, but I didn't hear you complaining."

"And you won't," he replied, slowly making his way around the rack to stand beside me. "Just making sure you're not regretting it."

"I'm not." The air between us was so thick with tension. It felt like fire against my skin as he watched me, eyes taking in the rising blush that now made my face burn. "Though there is something I regret."

Worry roiled his eyes, and he stilled his steady lean toward me. "Oh yeah?"

My fingers dug into the shelf, using it to keep me steady as I turned into him. "I shouldn't have stopped you from returning the favor."

The tenseness disappeared from his shoulders as he smiled down at me, leaning back slightly to chuckle. "Aw, are you feeling a bit riled up, princess?"

I pinched his stomach. "Don't laugh at me, asshole. I could've left you high and dry last night."

"You could have," he replied, slowly returning to his original place, looking down at me as I practically curled into his chest. "Why didn't you?"

My heart stuttered in my chest. Why didn't I? It was unavoidable now… There was no way I could justify the filthy carnal need that overtook me last night. And I didn't want to avoid it anymore. Not with him. "Because I didn't want to." We were practically sharing the same breath at this point as I smiled, thermometer memory of him with his head thrown back haunting me in a gorgeous if not inconvenient way. "You looked too pretty, all hot and bothered."

Jake laughed. "Well, if you could've seen my view of that exchange…" His finger curled around a loose strand of my hair with a smile. "You'd know you were the real star of that show. I'm definitely gonna need to thank Quinn for that dress."

"She'll love that," I whispered, entirely too focused on his lips.

"I'm counting on it."

"Trying to get in her good graces?" I teased.

He shrugged, refusing to break eye contact with me. "She seems like a good person to be in the good graces of when getting close to you is concerned."

I smirked, tilting my chin up. "Is this not close enough for you, Jake?"

"No," he said thickly. "Though I'm starting to think I'll never quite be able to get close enough to you."

I had to look away then. Had to occupy my hands with the bottle of wine I'd come down here to grab. "Never hurts to try, though, right?"

He moved closer, impossibly so, "Right."

For a moment, all I could do was dumbly stare at him. Then, my mind was swarmed with a sinful fantasy of him closing the distance between us and pinning me to the wine racks. The bottle slid through my loose fingertips, falling for a moment before Jake deftly caught it. He looked at the label with a stupid grin and whistled as he handed it back. "Careful princess, that's an expensive bottle."

"Asshole." I playfully shoved him, clearing my mind of the greedy thoughts of his pretty face and pretty moans and how I would do almost anything to see him undone for me again.

Hurrying back up the stairs, I approached Howard and his VIP table with a polite smile. "So sorry for the wait. This bottle was rather well hidden."

"As most gems are," Howard added, giving me a long look.

"The 1806 Château D'yquem, a truly unique selection that is, in my humble opinion, unparalleled," I said as I poured the wine into their glasses.

The men at the table were solely focused on me in the way I'd gotten used to from men like them. They shamelessly checked me out and even whispered low words of approval to one another. But the one closest to the railing made the hairs on my neck rise. The predatory gleam in his eyes and physical appearance reminded me too much of him. He lifted his glass to his nose before taking a sip and hummed. "It is truly as delectable as you claimed, Howard. But, you failed to mention the exquisite creature paired with it."

With an awkward chuckle, Howard smiled thinly at him. "Lena is one of our most prestigious servers."

"Lena," he purred, eyes narrowing as he looked me up and down. "Feels like we've met before."

"I doubt it," I answered as politely as I could muster. "I don't think we run in the same circles." 

"Maybe, but that can certainly change." He leaned forward, reaching out and taking hold of my wrist, lifting my hand to press his lips to it. "You can leave me your number. I'm sure I can think of something you can give me to improve your social circles."

With thinly veiled venom, I pulled my wrist from his. "No, thank you. I'm quite content with my social circles."

Howard spared me an apologetic look as I turned to leave the howling laughter of the group. His voice was steady above them, though, "We'll see, baby girl."

I froze, chills running up my spine and making my hands tingle as the old drug-addled memory clicked. Tony threw him to the floor as I shoved myself up against the wall. "Selfish fucking prick! I invite you here…" The sound of his punch singing made me flinch. "And you fucking dare to touch what's mine!"

With a gurgled laugh, Tony's guest replied, "She wanted it."

I violently shook my head. "Ton-"

"Shut up!" He growled, throwing a nearby vase into the wall beside me. "I'll deal with you later."

The older woman stood off the side, clutching her cleaning tools in a deathly tight grip, mouthing words in Russian. I ignored the sting of the shattered glass that hand cut me as Tony's guards picked the man up. With a bloody smile, he winked at me. "I'll be seein' you, baby girl."

My heartbeat echoed in my ears alongside a faint ringing as I moved through the dining room. I forced air through my nose, reminding myself to keep breathing… To just keep moving forward. Jake's eyes followed me, concerned as I steadied myself on the bar where Nicky stood. "Hey, you alright, Red?"

"Yeah," I breathed out, sparing a glance back up to the table and the man smirking down at me. Then, tearing my eyes away, I turned, heading into the kitchen with a slight tremor in my hands as my vision swam.

"Take it to the bathroom," Scott said, glancing up at me.

"What?"

"You look like you're gonna be sick. Take it to the bathroom. The last thing I need is you throwing up on my floor."

Isaac raised his head from the back by the blazing stovetop and found me standing slightly hunched over the table. "Are you okay?"

Get it together, I scolded myself, fighting against the sting of tears gathering in my eyes. Finally, with one sharp exhale, I nodded. "I'm fine." Moving to stand next to Santos at the sink, I grabbed a dirty pan and started washing, ignoring his warning that the water was too hot… ignoring the pain of the boiling temperature practically flaying my skin. I gritted my teeth and used the pain to focus on what was in front of me.

By the time service was over, I still stood at the sink scrubbing the already clean dish in my hands until my fingers went numb. Everyone else had filed out, leaving me and Santos and Isaac. Finally, Santos, the sweet person he was, finished washing beside me and quietly said, "I think it's clean enough to go on the rack now."

The sincere earth in his voice made me stop and hand him my plate. "Sorry."

"It's alright," he replied. "This will be the cleanest dish in the kitchen."

Isaac followed me up the stairs and stood beside me. He stayed silent as I wrapped a finger or two with band-aids and changed until the question refused to settle within him. "What happened?"

I could only glance up at him, meeting his eyes for a fraction of a second before looking anywhere else. Isaac had been the newest addition to my family group. He'd been around long enough to hear about my aunt and my mom, long enough to know the abuse I'd faced between the two of them. But, when the darkest parts of my past came into things… he knew only the name and bare description of the man that had nearly killed me, as well as the vague warning Dom had given him. "If you ever see that fucker show his face, you call me."

Isaac was sweet and funny, and loyal. I loved him. But, the oldest, ugliest of my fears barred me from ever opening up that box of memories I'd buried. The only one that knew all of it, every fucked up second, was Dom. Not my brothers, Ozzy, or even my dad had known all I'd endured. I didn't want them to carry that weight, and now… I didn't want how they saw me to change, not any of them.

Shaking my head, I replied, "It's nothing."

"You practically burnt yourself washing those dishes. Your hands were starting to bleed from scrubbing so hard. That's not nothing." His eyes fixed on my hands for a minute before he sighed. "Was it Tony?"

"No," I answered quickly. "He wouldn't come here while Dom's around."

"I know that, but something happened that made you think of him tonight. Right?"

Blinking away tears, frustrated and stubbornly, I shook my head again. "Let it go. Please."

Isaac looked pained but nodded. "Just… Try to remember I'm here if you need me. We all are."

"Thank you."

Jake quietly entered the locker room with that observing look he was so good at. Isaac scratched the back of his head and smiled. "See you at Ozzy's?"

"Yeah," I answered, shaking off the weight that had settled on my shoulders and discreetly wiping moisture from the corners of my eyes. "I'm helping with the bar tonight, so I'll be around."

Isaac turned, giving Jake a nod before loudly descending the stairs to join the others. I didn't look at Jake, couldn't look at him, knowing full well I'd likely cry if he gave me that look. Thankfully, Jake seemed aware of this and began changing as though nothing was out of the ordinary. “Rough night?”

I smiled to myself and nodded, even if he couldn’t see it. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Rich assholes are the worst company.”

With a slightly shaky chuckle sighed. “Yeah, they are.”

The silence between Jake and me had grown into something familiar, and while rare, I cherished it. I didn’t think about the past or the future when he was there, but I focused on him. The way he moved in a room, or the way he studied everything his eyes could see… how he settled close to me and didn’t need words to tell me I was safe. That feeling was something I’d only known in short bursts… safety, peace, comfort, whatever you wanted to call it, Jake carried in abundance. 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly. “That last table really seemed to get under your skin.”

“I’m okay,” I told him. “Just feeling kind of sick of this place and the shit we have to put up with from those dicks.”

Jake’s locker closed, and he wordlessly stood beside me, offering me a cigarette. “Nice to know someone else feels the same way I do.”

I accepted his cigarette and watched him light it for me. I looked up, taking in a deep breath of smoke before breathing it out and holding it out to him. “Why not leave then?”

He shrugged, but the expression on his face… the fear and regret and worry, told me the answer before he said it. “Where else would I go?” Simone.

“Anywhere you want,” I replied. “That’s kind of the only good thing about being an adult.”

“Eh, nowhere else has really spoken to me, I guess.” He blew out a puff of smoke and smiled down at me. “ Besides, I’m perfectly content right here.”

I nudged him with my shoulder, taking the cigarette back before asking, “Seriously though, is there nowhere you’ve wanted to go? Like even just on vacation?”

Jake thought for a moment, surprisingly taking my question seriously as I smoked beside him. “Japan.”

“Japan?” I asked. “Why there?”

He shrugged again. “Dunno just speaks to me.”

I narrowed my eyes and handed him the cigarette again. “Should I be concerned by this whole speaks to me thing? Like, are you hearing voices?”

“No,” he laughed. “It’s more of a… feeling.”

“Describe it to me,” I urged.

“Why?”

“Maybe I want places to speak to me too.”

Shaking his head, he answered honestly with the first words that came to his mind. “It feels like home used to. That warmth… the smell of my mom's cooking… you know, just calm and welcoming. It feels like I belong.”

My heart resonated with his words more than he knew, and in a complete and meaningless coincidence, Jake had put into words what I’d felt whenever I was with him. “That sounds like a really nice feeling.”

His blue eyes sparkled, seemingly glad I’d not answered with some joke or insult. “Yeah, it does.”

I knew it was ridiculous and that there was no way he’d been thinking the same thing I had, but for that short moment, the silence between us hummed with something more. Something deep and meaningful and filled with much more than simple friendship. For a moment, it felt like we were… connected… just two horribly disfigured souls sharing a tender hope between them. A hope that they, we, belonged together.

Straightening up, I nodded to the door. “I gotta get to Ozzy’s.”

“And I’ve gotta go entertain our coworkers with fancy drinks.” He handed me his jacket and the cigarette. “Take those with you to keep you warm on the walk.”

For once, I didn’t fight him. Instead, I simply accepted his jacket and the cigarette with a smile. “See you later?”

He grinned back. “I’m sure I’ll find some way of catching your attention when I get there.”

“Don’t you always?” I teased as I exited the locker room and headed out to start my shift at Ozzy’s.

*

The night was a blur of faces, drinks, and noise, but when the group showed up, things seemed to liven up. Prue and Quinn practically jumped up at the sight of their respective partners, and in my own very platonic way, I’d buzzed when Jake walked through the door behind them. Everyone hung around the bar for a while, making idle conversation with me as I worked before they secured a booth and sat down to enjoy the company of one another more comfortably. Jake hung behind, watching me work with that gleam in his eyes that screamed of sin.

It was fun until Olive strolled up to the bar, her hair freshly died, a deep red that now matched mine. She smiled at me, those wide eyes full of some smug thing that I didn’t quite understand. “Can I get a glass of Irish Whiskey?”

Good fucking god, I thought, rolling my eyes and grabbing a glass and the whisky bottle. “Here.”

Olive nearly spat the whisky out as she forced it into her mouth. My brothers, who sat at the bar to keep me company, practically gasped. Patrick made a face, and Peter looked absolutely mortified as he asked in Irish, "Is this her first drink?"

"Nope," I answered. "She's trying to prove a point about how easy it is being me or something… I'm not totally sure."

"Jesus, that's just sad," Patrick shook his head. "Oi, moon eyes, don't go wastin' all the good whisky."

She sheepishly giggled, but the look in her eyes as she met Patrick’s screamed something was off. “I guess it just takes some getting used to.”

Patrick saw it, too, straightening his shoulders and setting his eyes. “Or maybe you just don’t like whisky and should stop tryin' ta fool people.”

Olive huffed, swinging her hair over her shoulder and turning to Jake. Her eyes dragged down his form before she flashed them back up and smiled at him. “Hi, Jake.”

“Hi.”

“You gonna come sit with us?” She asked, taking a step forward.

“Not yet.”

She frowned, “What if I said please?”

Patrick shook his head, mumbling into his drink, “Cunt.”

Peter’s eyes stayed trained on me, watching for the moment I’d had enough of this girl and her games. I tried to convey I was fine through my eyes alone, but my brother wasn’t having it. Jake shrugged. “Same answer.”

With a deep sigh, she moved closer, sliding right up against Jake and pushing her chest into his. My grip on the whiskey bottle tightened as I glared over the bar at her. “Oh, come on,” she whined, hands moving along his chest in a way that made my chest ache. Each breath felt like fire as I attempted to breathe the rage out. “I thought you were supposed to be fun.”

Patrick reached over the bar, tugging the bottle out of my tight grip, likely to try and save the whiskey and my hand from shattering. Jake straightened up, staring Olive down. “Fun’s not a word people use to describe me very often.”

“We could change that,” she assured him.

Oh, fuck this. I grabbed the first tray of drinks that Ian finished. “Booth three, right?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

“I’ve got it.” I slid out from behind the bar and moved as quickly away from it as my feet could carry me without outright running. Booth three just so happened to be the one my coworkers and friends had chosen to settle in for the night. They all smiled and cheered as I grew closer, but Quinn and Prue’s faces dropped at the stiffness of my posture and my expression. “Your drinks, dear delinquents.”

"You are the prettiest little waiter I've ever seen, Tiger Bitch!" Sasha said, snatching the drinks off my tray.

Ari rolled her eyes. "I thought you were the prettiest."

"Well, obviously. She's a second fiddle compared to me."

Quinn's eyes narrowed. "Where's Jake?"

I shrugged. "Bar, probably."

She arched her brow, lifting herself up to catch a glimpse of the bar. Those light eyes turned dark in seconds as she spotted Olive. "She dyed her hair?"

"It looked worse a few days ago. Seems like she got smart and fixed it."

"Okay, that's just fucking creepy." She looked back at me. "Is she like stalking you or what?"

"No clue."

"Wanna kick her ass?"

"So badly," I sighed and shook my head. "It's fine. I'm just going to ignore her."

Heather slid into the mouth next to Scott and nodded. "Look who I found."

Tess smiled as Sasha cooed at her, coaxing her into the booth beside him. "Baby Monster!"

Olive joined the table shortly after, followed by Jake, who paused at the sight of Tess. The look he gave her was different from the annoyed one Olive got. Some part of him still cared about her, one he likely would try to ignore. His eyes were tender and hurt, and then they were nothing. He looked at me for a second, an awkward stiffness now settling between us as we both debated bringing up the scene at the bar. Ultimately he looked away, greeting Tess with a dismissive nod as he sat down in the only free spot next to Olive.

Fucking great.

*

Tess had heard about the new bar the group liked to frequent through Sasha, and while the Russian hadn't outright invited her to join them, she figured it would be fine. Getting in was easy, working up the courage to approach them… Jake, in particular, was not. When she'd gotten in, he was sitting at the bar talking to people, she didn't know, and then that girl from before came in. 

She figured he was sleeping with her, but when he practically shoved her off him to make his way toward the table, that worry vanished. So, she sat down with her old group of close friends and tried to get over the anxious pit in her stomach. Tess came here for a reason. Her eyes met his over the table, and she smiled at him. He didn't return her polite gesture. She wanted Jake back.

The night seemed to drag on, with Jake's attention glued to the bar. He watched the girl… Lena, as she moved and every part of her, felt that sting of jealousy at the way his face seemed to soften each time she looked back. The thing that really did her in was when she approached the table and grabbed his hand. "Dance with me?"

Tess almost laughed. Jake didn't dance. Everyone knew that. But, without so much as a sarcastic reply or any fight, he followed her out onto the dance floor. Her mouth hung open, disbelief filling her as Sasha laughed.

"It's quite the sight. Seeing our moody Jakey lighten up."

"What's gotten into him?" She asked. "Even when we talked a few days ago, he seemed different."

Sasha grinned, sipping his drink. "That would be the Tiger's doing."

“She can’t be that special,” Tess insisted, shaking her head. “I mean, it’s only been a few months. He barely knows her.”

He sighed. “Sweet, innocent baby monster, those two are star-crossed lovers… twin flames… She knows him more than you ever did.”

She tried to laugh it off and not feel the sinking defeat that settled in her gut. “There’s no such thing as soulmates, Sasha.”

“Maybe not,” the Russian admitted, looking out into the crowd with a nod. “But those two are as close as it gets to being a reality.”

Out on the dancefloor, Jake was illuminated by the mix of red and blue light. A lavender haze settled over his smooth skin, making his wide smile stand out more. Tess had never seen him smile like that… not once since they’d met, not even with Simone. That smile - genuine, soft, and everything she’d ever wanted - was aimed at the shorter redhead who danced in front of him with a smile as blinding and joyful as his. She’d asked him to dance before, and he’d given her the stoic “I don’t dance" yet there he was, dancing with her… for her. They looked good together. They looked like they belonged together.

Tess didn’t know what made Lena different from everyone else Jake had slept with or dated. Still, the longer she watched them move in perfect harmony, the more obvious it became that something was different. Whether it was her or Jake, she couldn’t say, but it hurt nonetheless. How long had she spent wanting what they had? How long had she told herself it’d happen one day… that she just needed to give him time? Lena had Jake in a way Tess never did; she wasn’t even sure if either of them realized it.

*

I leaned over the counter and grabbed my water bottle, drinking quickly as Jake made his way into the alley to smoke. Dancing with him was yet another impulsive decision, one I was more than glad to make if it meant getting to see him smile. Olive had attempted to cut between us, only to get pushed off by Jake. She left shortly after, seemingly done with whatever attempt she'd been set on making tonight. Stupidly, I felt elated, knowing he'd rather dance with me than her. He may not have been mine, but Jake certainly preferred me to Olive, and that felt nice.

The air was chilled as I stepped out into the alley, following Jake. Tess stood off to the side, looking around like a lost puppy. "You lost?"

"I was…" She took a breath, straightening her back and committing to her words. "I was looking for Jake."

"Ah," I hummed. "He said he needed a smoke break."

Tess nodded. "I saw him come out this door, but he's not here."

"Maybe he wanted a minute to himself."

"Don't Pretend like you're not coming out here to follow him." She said, Stern but surprisingly not malicious. "Where is he?"

I shook my head. "Sorry, I don't hand the location out loosely. Why do you need to find him?"

She sighed. "Because I just… I want him to know I still want us to be together."

"Is that what he wants?" I asked.

"I don't know," she replied, the frustration and anger in her faltering. "Why does that matter to you?"

Scoffing, I tilted my head to the side, eyes narrowing. "Because it's important. Why doesn't it matter to you what he wants?"

Tess shook her head. "I do care! I've always cared! I'm the one that encouraged him to open the bar with Scott."

"Did you do that for him or for yourself?"

"You don't know me," she said, the offense of my words showing in her eyes.

"No, I don't." I smiled at her. "I'm just curious about what your intentions are."

"To be with him."

"That's all?"

"Yes."

Nodding, I made my way to the door of the gym. "See you around, Tess."

She sighed. "That's it? You're not gonna tell me where he is?"

"Jake's made it clear he's not interested in talking to you right now. I'm not going to force him to do anything he doesn't want to. So, goodnight."

I didn't stick around to listen to her reply, making my way through the closed gym and out to the alley. Jake sat on the old couch with a hairless sphynx cat in his lap. I smiled, nodding to the little creature, practically purring as he scratched beneath its chin. "Make a new friend?"

He shrugged, moving the cigarette from between his lips. "Looks like it."

"He's cute," I said, sitting down next to him and offering the cat similar affection. "Maybe cuter than you."

"Ouch." He feigned a wounded look. "What took you so long?"

"Tess was looking for you."

He rolled his eyes. "Great."

Focusing my eyes on the cat, I asked, "What happened between you two?"

"I thought I knew her," Jake said simply with a bitter smile. "Obviously, I didn't cause the second I let my guard down, she fucked Howard and tried to get Simone fired."

It amused me to no end that I hadn't been the only one not fond of Simone's attitude or relationship with Jake, but I let it slide. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" He scoffed, angrily flicking his cigarette butt and refocusing on the cat. "It's not like it really mattered."

"It did matter," I answered. "You cared about her, and she betrayed your trust."

He looked over at me and shook his head. "I should've seen it coming."

With a chuckle, I nudged his shoulder. "You some kind of fortune teller now?"

Rolling his eyes, he nudged me back. "You know what I mean."

"Your feelings matter, Jake." I held his gaze, even when he gave me that look. "Tess hurt you. But… You still care about her. I can see it."

Jake sighed. "Guess that's what I get for hanging around you too long."

"She wants to try and work things out," I continued ignoring his teasing.

"Yeah?"

I nodded, picking at my fingers. "Yeah. She told me."

With a hum, he looked toward the alley door and sighed. "Can't say I'm surprised. She was pretty hung up on me while she worked there."

"Is that what you want?" I asked, forcing the question out into the air along with the quiet reminder that Jake wasn't mine. He didn't owe me anything.

His eyes moved across my face for a minute. His eyebrows furrowed as though he didn't understand my question. "Does it matter?"

"What you want matters," I reiterated. "That's why I'm asking. Because I want you to be able to pursue the things you want… I want to help you if I can."

"Why?"

"Because that's what friends do," I answered, focusing on the part of me that felt for Jake enough to want him to be happy and not the part that selfishly wanted him for myself. "And while you and I are a bit… Unconventional, you're still my friend."

It took him a minute to answer, but eventually, he shook his head. "I don't want Tess."

"Okay." Is that it? That's all you can say?

Jake tilted his head slightly. For a minute, it looked like he was going to ask me what I wanted, a question I'd been trying to avoid for fear my answer would be too honest. Instead, he watched the cat leap out of his lap before he asked, "You up for a quick sparring match?"

"You want to spar?" I laughed. "Since when did you take an interest in boxing?"

"Seems like fun," was all he gave me as he stood up. "Yes or no, princess?"

I hopped to my feet, grinning ear to ear. "Absolutely!"

We left our shoes in the ring and secured our gloves. His were the classic training gloves, and mine were the flat padded ones meant to take a hit. Jake stretched his arms out the way Patrick had told him to. "You ready?"

"I was just about to ask you that." Smirking wide, I nodded. "Hit me with your best shot, pretty boy."

The second his fists collided with the padding, I felt it. Lightning shooting up through my palms with each powerful strike. His smirk nearly made my mouth drop as I shook out my hands. "You alright, princess?"

"Those were some decent hits," I complimented.

Jake shrugged. "Patrick's been showing me some moves."

My smile grew wide at the thought of my brother coaching Jake. I held my hands back up to him. "Well, let's see what you’ve got, Jerky Jake."

He groaned. “Jerky Jake? You can come up with something better than that.”

I tutted, bracing against the power behind his fists as he struck my covered hands again. “You gotta earn your boxing name in the ring, just like everyone else.”

“No special treatment?”

“Nope.” Three more hits.

“Damn, and here I thought you found me pretty.” He swung again, but this time I leaned to the side and caught his arm, pulling him in close. 

“I find you very pretty,” I whispered, pressing one quick kiss to his lips.

Jake, still stunned by my sudden and swift kiss, just stood there smiling for a minute. Once he regained his composure, a bit that smile shifted into a mischievous smirk. “Are kisses part of this elaborate earning thing?”

Shrugging, I waved him forward. “Maybe. You’ll have to actually try to find out, though.”

“I enjoy a good challenge.”

*

Will’s ASL lessons had been going well throughout the last few months. Between me and Prue and Will’s research, he’d picked the language up quickly. We spoke with one another entirely in ASL throughout our lessons, and he only had difficulty with a few words and hand motions. I was impressed but unsurprised by the man's work ethic. 

“You work today?” He signed, slightly too stiff.

“Yeah, Howard said we’re overbooked again,” I replied.

Will groaned. “It’s been absolute chaos trying to figure out why the hell the reservations have been so fucked lately.”

“Sorry, that sounds like a nightmare.”

“It is,” he said, switching to speaking without thinking. “Howard’s been on my ass about it all month.”

“What does he expect you to do about it?” I questioned, standing to clear our cups and a small plate of snacks. “It’s not like you’re the one making reservations every night.”

Will shrugged. “He’s just on edge. You know how he is when it comes to service.”

Nodding, I washed the dishes with a soft laugh. “Yeah, nothing less than perfection for the esteemed guests! Still, this is getting kind of insane. There’s only so much schmoozing we can do when there’s four parties waiting for their table to open up. And if Howard gives away any more bottles of wine, we’ll be selling grape juice to the rich dicks.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He stood, looking out the window to access the weather. “Looks like it’s going to rain later.”

“That’s just what we need. I’m sure the guests will be even more willing to wait for a table while they’re dripping in our doorway.”

Turning to grab a rag from my drawer, I felt a rush of cold fly in front of my face, accompanied by the piercing sound of glass shattering. My body froze in place as the rock skirted across the counter in front of me and off onto the floor. Will moved across the floor, now littered with glass, toward me. “Are you okay?!”

My heartbeat echoed in my ears as I looked over at the window, now cracked with a hole now flooding the space with cold air. “What the fuck?”

Will strode around the island and picked the rock up off the floor. "Did that seriously just happen?"

"Yeah."

"You got some kind of stalker or something?" Will asked nervously.

Sharing out the window, I felt dread consume me. "Or something."

Will looked at my apartment with a quiet curse. "We should call the police."

"No," I told him, pulling out my phone. "I've got a guy."

Dom took care of everything. Patrols through the neighborhood, fixing my window, and even ensuring someone would be outside my apartment all day and night for the next few weeks. It helped ease the fear and worry that settled in my gut, and Will eventually calmed down. The two of us walked to work, followed by Ryker. 

"How are you so calm right now?" Will asked.

"I'm kind of used to this."

"What? Rocks through windows?"

I shrugged. "I lived in a shit neighborhood. It's not a big deal."

Ryker glanced at me, bidding to the building. "Want me to hang around today?"

"That's okay, Ry. I'm good."

"Just call if you need us."

"I will. Thank you!"

Will and I argued more about the severity of the event while we both got dressed, oy stopping when Ari and Heather came up to change. "Quinn told me to bring this to you," she winked, handing me the dress bag. 

"Thanks." I hung it in my locker and shrugged on my shirt.

“You both brought extra clothes, right?” She asked Will and me, who both nodded. With a big smile, she clapped. "Good!" I watched Ari nudge Jake's bike as he climbed the stairs and set it down.

"Morning," Will said, half nicely as he closed his locker, finishing smoothing out his suit. Jake ignored him, eyes focusing on me as he moved to his locker.

“You hungover or something?” Jake asked, glancing at me over his shoulder with a grin. “You look like shit.”

“It’s nothing.” I tried to assure him, closing my locker and starting to button up my shirt.

“Someone threw a rock through your window,” Will interrupted with a look. “That’s not nothing, Lena.”

Shit. Jake’s grin dissolved quickly as he turned to look at me, eyes scanning over me. “What?”

I sighed, sending Will a glare. “It’s nothing.”

"Someone threw a rock through your window?" He repeated. "When was this?"

"This morning," Will answered. "We just finished our ASL lesson when a baseball-sized rock nearly knocked her out."

"It hit you?"

"No," I answered, waving off his hands. "I'm fine, Jake."

He scoffed, taking hold of my arms and using his grip on me to get a better look at my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Will’s odd expression of surprise, like seeing Jake care about someone was new to him. “Like fuck you are. Are you sure it didn’t hit you?”

I pressed my hands against his chest, forcing some space between us and meeting his wild eyes. “If it had hit me, I’d be in the hospital.”

“That’s not funny,” he scolded. 

“Relax, please,” I begged. “I’m okay.”

Jake finally sighed and shook his head. “I can cover for you while you talk to the cops or whatever it is you need to do.”

I chuckled. “I appreciate it, but Dom’s got it covered.”

“Ah,” he hummed, still not completely calm. “Shoulda known you’d drag your drug dealer into it.”

With a shrug, I flicked the loose button on his shirt. “Better not walk out onto the floor lookin like that, or Howard will kill you.”

“I’d say the same, but I think everyone would enjoy you walking around with your top open.”

“Shut up,” I moved to turn away from him and finish getting ready when he stopped me with a look. It never ceased to be jarring seeing the real and raw vulnerability that his eyes held when he’d let me see.

“You sure you’re okay?” His voice, too, raw and real… god I loved it when he sounded like that.

I nodded, offering him a glimpse into the anxious fear that I still held inside, knowing Jake wouldn’t press for information but would rather know the truth of it. His jaw tightened at the sight, and his hand, still lingering on my arm, squeezed softly, running his thumb along my skin. A soothing gesture, one I’d come to learn was something of a habit he held. “I will be.”

Will cleared his throat and shut his locker door, bringing the guarded look back to Jake's eyes. He let me pull away and finished buttoning his shirt before quietly leaving the locker room. The tenseness in his shoulder's told me Jake hadn't let it go, and part of me felt glad that he was angry, worried on my behalf. I finished with my own buttons before following them down for family meal.

The night went as expected, like shit. As the constant stream of food neared an end, I sighed. "Howard needs to figure out the shit with the books. This is ridiculous."

Scott nodded, plating the last table gracefully. "Fuck yeah, it is. It's a good thing I'm amazing at my job, or this place would be buried in angry reviews."

"Yes, chef!" The kitchen agreed.

"Stop that." Scott shook his head. "Asskissers."

The locker room was thankfully more upbeat than the night had been, with everyone buzzing about going to Ari's show. I changed into the dress Ari had brought me from Quinn, grabbed my bag for the night, and joined the others outside as we gathered to go to Ari's show. Jake looked at my dress and nodded. "Looks like I owe her thanks for two dresses."

I rolled my eyes. "This is literally the plainest dress I could find."

"Guess you just make it look good then."

"Shut up," I laughed, shoving him as we walked. 

The club Ari was performing at wasn't too far, which made the walk go by quickly as Jake and I moved between the members of our group to tag each other. The stoic, unbothered way he went about our game never failed to lighten my mood. All the stress I'd built up during the day melted away as Jake brushed his hand against the leather of his jacket around my shoulders. "Tag."

At the club, we danced and drank, simply enjoying the lively music and good company. While Ari performed, Jake and I danced, a purely platonic thing that only made the heated frustration I'd been plagued with since the warehouse party worse. And he fucking knew it. With a smug grip, he pulled me in closer, fingers digging into my hips and his half hard dick grinding against me in a way that made me gasp. Sadly there was no sneaking off to a bathroom, not with Sasha there. Another fact he knew and enjoyed. It seemed he was hellbent on making me miserable. 

The cab ride to Ari’s hotel certainly didn’t help ease the tension, as I ended up practically in his lap by the end of it. Quinn had described Ari’s place as big in a sad way, and now that I was there, I realized what she meant. An entire hotel was basically empty of guests with no one but a few staff members and people Ari’s parents had hired to stay with her floated around the place like ghosts as we walked through the lobby and crowded into the elevator. The whole way up, Quinn held Ari’s hand that determined look in her eyes as she looked lovingly at her partner with that assurance Ari no doubt needed. You aren’t alone anymore.

Her place was exactly as I’d pictured it, messy and chaotic, with designer clothes and drugs strewn about. Outside, on a modestly sized patio, was a deep pool that glowed in the dark light, the water rippling in the chilled wind. The stairs led up to a long hallway of rooms that Ari told us we’d be staying in tonight. We all set our bags down on the steps and jumped straight into the afterparty portion of the evening. 

Everyone drank, playing multiple rounds of beer pong until Sasha tipped the table. We ordered food, and we bitched about work and family and everything in between in true sleepover fashion. Prue and Will were the first to head off to their room, and I was unsurprisingly right behind them. I’d need a good hour or two before I’d be able to get to sleep anyway. “Quinn, what room am I in tonight?”

“You’re going to bed already?” She asked, sparing a look at Ari, who stood beside Jake in the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

“Long day,” I answered. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

She nodded, “I get it. Come on, I’ll show you the room.”

“Thanks.”

Quinn opened the door to the bedroom for me with a mischievous look. “This is you. We only had so many rooms, and obviously, we couldn’t put anyone with Sasha, so you’re gonna have to bunk with someone tonight.”

“That’s okay,” I replied, setting my things down on the bed. “Who am I bunking with?”

Ari giggled as she led Jake through the door. “This is your room.”

We locked eyes with one another, the ploy our friends had constructed plainly obvious. Looking at Quinn, I shook my head. “Really? You’re gonna stoop this low?”

“I’m in it to win it, baby,” she said, patting my cheek. “And I’m gonna need more than one bathroom blowjob to get it.”

“Truly diabolical of you,” I replied. “You do know we’re both adults, right? We have that funny little thing called self-control.”

Ari rolled her eyes. “Please, you two are a matchbox next to an open fire. Just let it happen already!”

Jake set his things down next to mine and smiled at me. “You wanna change first, or should I?”

“I will,” I answered. “You usher the perverts out of the room.”

Quinn scoffed. “I’m the pervert when you’re the one giving out blowjobs?”

Flipping her off, I slid into the bathroom with my bag and sighed. This was going to be a long night. I changed quickly, looking at myself in the mirror with the urge to smack myself for picking a thin white tank top and pink shorts to wear tonight. Curse you dirty laundry! Looking at my reflection, I pointed. “You are a grown-ass woman. One night sleeping in the same bed as your friend Jake isn’t going to kill you.”

When I walked back out into the bedroom, Jake had already changed into a plain t-shirt and some sweatpants that hugged his ass perfectly. I bit my lip, forcing myself to look away from him. I set my bag back down next to my side of the bed as Jake moved his to the opposite side. Pulling out my hairbrush, I stood off to the side, using the mirror in the bathroom to brush through my crazy hair, while Jake watched me from where he now sat against the headboard.

“What’s it mean?” Jake asked.

“What?” I turned, looking at him.

He nodded to my knee, or rather the tattoo above it. “Your tattoo. I noticed it a while back but always forgot to ask.”

“Pas de Deux,” I said softly. “A dance for two. It’s a dance thing.”

Jake nodded, moving to the other side of the bed and settling in beneath the covers. “Something to do with your mom?”

I shook my head. “Not entirely.”

Thankfully he didn’t push it further. I finished brushing out my hair and climbed into bed next to him, silently taking note of how it got easier each time we’d had to share one. I settled down beneath the covers, curling up to try and avoid encroaching on Jake’s space… or rather, to avoid what I’d do if I felt his soft skin against mine right now. The sounds of the city raged outside the tall skyscraping windows, a sound that should have lulled me to sleep quickly but instead only drew more attention to the fact that I was not in my room. 

Sleeping was always something I had trouble with, but sleeping in a new space was downright impossible unless I had some help. I hated sleeping pills and wasn’t fond of teas and warm milk, so, normally, I’d indulge in a bit of masterbation to take the edge off or soak in a soothing bubble bath. Neither of those options seemed wise, with Jake sharing my room. Quinn, I’m going to fucking murder you. Tossing and turning from my back to my side, I sighed, eyeing the door and the clock that hung above it. Sleeping in new spaces had always been difficult for me, but I hadn’t expected tonight to be this bad. Jake grumbled on the other side of the bed. “Quit squirming.”

“Fuck off,” I mumbled, readjusting my pillow.

“You weren’t nearly this fidgety the first time we shared a bed.”

I rolled my eyes and glared at him. “Well, it probably didn’t help I was freezing my ass off.”

His smile glowed in the dark room. “I gave you a solution to that problem. You were the one that wanted to be stubborn about it.”

“Asshole.” I kicked his foot away from mine.

I could feel him move, repositioning, so he was now laying toward me with his head propped up in his hand. “Having trouble sleeping?”

“Yes, I am.” I turned my head back toward the wall. “I hate sleeping in new places.”

“I could help you,” Jake offered, shifting again until his chest pressed into my back.

“Oh?” I hummed, glancing over my shoulder at him. “You gonna read me a bedtime story?”

He chuckled as his warm hand settled on my hip, his fingers toying with the hem of my shorts, a simple touch that already made me feel breathless. “I had something a little more hands-on in mind.”

I narrowed my eyes. “There’s not exactly much your hands can do to help me sleep.”

“You’d be surprised,” he answered in a heated whisper. “I’m real good with my hands. Besides, I owe you a favor.”

“Are you high?” I asked, echoing his words from the club. “Or drunk?”

Jake smirked wider. “No, and no.” His expression turned insufferably smug. “I can leave you to figure it out on your own if you’re not interested.”

His hand began to pull away from my hip, and in a rush, I stopped him by settling my palm over his and squeezing. “I just want to be sure you know what you’re doing.”

“Does it look like I don’t know what I’m doing?” His voice was little more than a whisper that sent a chill of want pulsing through me. Shit, I internally whined. Did it sound that sexy when I said that to him? Jake’s head pressed into mine, gently pushing me into the pillows and exposing my neck to his lips. “Well?” He pressed, tongue darting out to taste my skin. “Does it?”

“No,” I breathed, biting my lip to hold back the moan building in my chest. My eyes focused on the bedroom door, ears straining to hear the far-off muffled voices of our friends still partying. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss behind my ear. “Not possible. But we can set some rules if it’ll make you feel better.”

I turned, pressing us even closer together as his hands slid against my thighs once again, teasing the thin material of my shorts. Tilting my head up to look into his gorgeous, glowing eyes, I smiled. “I’m all ears.”

His damn lips quirked into a second-long grin, drawing my attention straight to them as I instantly gravitated forward, drawn in by the softness I knew would be waiting for me and the smell of his slightly minty breath. “First, no kissing.” His fingers settled on my jaw, gently but firmly keeping my head from moving any closer to him. I let out an exasperated breath. God, that is frustrating. “It’s just like you said, if you kiss me, this is gonna turn into more than a quick feel-good session between friends real quick.”

“Fair enough,” I sighed, unable to hide my disappointment. “Anything else?”

“Pants off.”

“Excuse me?” I scoffed. “I didn’t tell you to strip in the club.”

Jake’s eyebrow raised. “You didn’t, but I am. You wanna do this? You’ll have to do it my way, princess.”

I glared up at him as I slowly began to shimmy out of my shorts. “You’re gonna pay for this.”

“Oh, I’m lookin forward to it.”

Once I’d pulled the little pink shorts up and shoved them in his face, he tossed them off to the side, and his hands instantly found my skin. His eyes fluttered slightly as he traced the high seam of my panties and the curve of my ass. “Much better.”

“What now?” I asked, trying to mask the way my breath hitched at his gentle and long touches.

Jake’s hand suddenly gripped my thigh and hoisted my leg up over his hip, pulling my already aching core up into his leg. I gasped, hands grabbing hold of his shirt to steady myself against him. “Now, you get comfy so I can get started.” His other hand, slightly trapped between the bed and me, pulled my hair over my shoulder, freeing space for him to dip his head down and latch his mouth onto my shoulder. 

“Ah!” I cried out as he sucked my skin into his warm mouth and dragged his nails down my bare thigh, the perfect mingling of pleasure and pain. One of my hands pressed to the side of his face as a broken moan of his name filled the space - or lack thereof - between us, “Jake!”

“Try not to scream too loud, princess.” God, he was unbearable. "As pretty as you sound, we wouldn't want to draw attention, would we?"

My face scrunched up at the thought, but whatever snarky reply I’d had in mind vanished the second his hand slid between my legs, thumb ghosting over my aching core. "Fuck…”

Jake chuckled, moving his lips further down my neck, growing dangerously close to my breasts. He littered my skin with bites, taunting me with the deft movements of his fingers brushing against my skin everywhere but where I wanted him to touch most. I whined, grabbing onto his bicep to try and leverage his hand down. “Never would’ve guessed you’d be the greedy type.”

“Shut up,” I growled, nails digging into his skin. “You’re drawing this out.”

“I am,” he admitted, kissing beneath my jaw. “I want to enjoy this. More importantly, I want you to enjoy this. So relax.”

I tossed my head back onto the pillows with a frustrated groan. “Easy for you to say. You’re the one doing the edging.”

Jake laughed at that, brushing my hair out of my face. “If I was edging you, princess, you wouldn’t be able to complain so much.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his hand finally dipping below the waistband of my underwear. “You’d be too busy whining… begging me.” My breath caught in my throat as his fingers found my clit with ease, gently rolling the sensitive bud between them and causing a lightning bolt of pleasure to shoot through me. Jake’s eyes held mine, drinking in every microexpression of bliss that played across my face as he toyed with me. “God, you’re so beautiful like this.”

My eyes fluttered shut as the pleasure began to tighten in my gut, warm and powerful and everything I could have wanted. Without warning, Jake took hold of the back of my neck, sliding into my hair to lightly tug my head back. His lips latched onto my shoulder, teeth scraping against my skin in a way that brought shivers down my spine as his fingers finally slid inside me. The pitched whine was louder than I’d anticipated, bouncing off the bare walls of Ari’s extra hotel room. “Oh fuck.”

Jake’s lips curved into a smile as he nipped at my ear with a taunting, “Shh. Be quiet.”

“You’re an ass-” His fingers curled again, pushing deeper inside me as the base of his hand brushed against my clit. “Ah, oh god…” My nails dug into his arm, only spurring him on in quickening the pace of his fingers.

"Sorry," he said with a chuckle. "What were you trying to say?"

I dug my nails harder into his skin, earning a sharp hiss from him as his dark eyes stared down at me, focused entirely on my lips. "You're an asshole." His thumb rolled against my clit, sending sparks through my body that made it impossible not to arch into him and chase that feeling. "An asshole that's frustratingly good with his fingers."

He moaned softly. "You sound good when you compliment me."

"Don't get used to it." My heavy breaths fanned across his face as he watched every movement and expression I made. The urge to kiss him, to pull him in close and consume him, was stronger than I ever could have imagined.

As if thinking the same thing as me, Jake set his forehead to mine, curling his fingers with renewed vigor. I made soft whining noises as I moved my hips, grinding myself down onto his hand. "Come on, Princess," he encouraged, sending a shiver down my spine. "Let me feel you."

"Jake," I moaned his name, the coil in my gut pulling taut but refusing to snap. The mix of his fingers pushing and curling inside me and the course pad of his thumb circling my clit made the pleasure almost unbearable. "Jake." My hand burrowed into his dark hair, pulling on the soft silky strands. "I-I can't…"

His body pressed into mine, rolling me onto my back with him settled over me, fingers moving faster now. With a low sound, he pushed my head to the side and latched his teeth onto the side of my neck. My breath hitched as the pain mixed with the pleasure and tipped me over the edge. I closed my eyes as the coil in my gut exploded, and hazed sparks filled the dark behind my eyelids. Jake's fingers lazily curled inside me, working me through my orgasm until he pulled out.

Panting beneath him, I washed as he lifted the glistening fingers to his lips and cleaned the remnants of my release off of them. A shiver pulsed through me at the sight of his smug grin. "Tired now?"

"No," I taunted, though I could already feel the exhaustion settling into my bones.

He saw right through my bluff. "Bullshit."

I laughed breathlessly. “That was a great way to repay the favor.”

“I aim to please,” he replied, laying back down on his side of the bed, still turned toward me. “Goodnight, Lena.”

Staring deep into his eyes, I sleepily smiled at him. “Goodnight, Jake.”

*

The wine was bitter against her tongue as Simone looked at the small ballet announcement sheet. It was another old, classic dance that the theater had been performing to perfection for years. That is what dedication and loyalty is, she praised silently, taking another sip. "You must give my praise to your photographer. This still shot of your dancers is stunning."

"Claude will no doubt be glad to hear yet another voice cheering his name." The woman replied. "He's always been quite the peacock."

"So long as his work can back him up, I say let him show his feathers." 

She chuckled over the phone. "It will be such a treat to finally put a face to the name!" The woman proclaimed.

Simone smiled. "Likewise. After months of our regular talks, it will certainly be nice."

"Oh, I cannot wait for you to see the rehearsals! My dancers have achieved near perfection!"

"I'm sure they have! You run quite the tight ship!"

Another laugh, soft and melodic and entirely like hers. "A tight ship ensures no one sinks."

Simone stared at the file still sitting on her table as she swished her wine. "Did you think about my suggestion?"

"I did," she replied. "And I've had my girl see to the arrangements already. It will be quite the affair! My sister is known for hiring… interesting people."

With a pleased smile, Simone chuckled. "Interesting is indeed how I would describe them. I hope it wasn't too much trouble-"

"Nonsense, dear. Howard's an old friend and a spineless boy. He agreed with little fuss. It's a good field trip for the employees, and he knows how eager I am to see my daughter again." She paused. "I am sorry to hear how much trouble she's caused you, though it isn't surprising. She always was too much like her father. Rebellious, brash, and so temperamental about the smallest things."

"I understand completely," Simone said with a laugh. "Jake, the boy I practically raised, is similar."

"Children," Jennifer sighed. "Such troublesome creatures. The fuss they make almost outweighs their worth."

She couldn't agree more. There were so many nights she'd lain awake wishing to be rid of Jake's persistent whining and fuck ups. So many nights, she wished he'd just grow up and be the man she needed him to be - had been molding him to be - from the moment they'd met. "They have their uses," she replied, thinking of the pleasure Jake had brought her, sexually and through his displays of devotion to her, even if they were small and sad.

The woman hummed. "That they do, so long as they stay obedient and relatively silent."

"Silent," Simone breathed. "Now, that would be a gift!"

Jennifer laughed with her for a moment before saying, "I have to get back to it. Rest well, dear, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Jennifer. I look forward to seeing you and the show."

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter hand #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake smut #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter lena #jake and lena #jake x lena #lena harrow #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter will #sweetbitter tess #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter oc #sweetbitter quinn #sweetbitter patrick #sweetbitter peter

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 12 | Chapter 14

Chapter 13: Pas de Deux

TW: I know nothing about dancing, this chapter is flashback heavy, so there are lots of painful and kind of intense memories, panic attacks, depictions of violence, references to past drug use, mentions of abuse and neglect, Lena's mom sucks, Olive's the worst, Simone's just as bad as always, some classic hurt & comfort vibes, loving siblings, the emotions in this chapter are intense, and another slight cliffie to send y'all to the grave! Y'all know the drill. I edited this quick, so there might be some mistakes!

“One two three, one two three, one two three.” I mouthed the words with her as I meticulously molded my body into the correct positions with the rest of the group. My mother's stick slapped hard against my wrist. “Keep your hands soft, Lena.”

Soft hands, I repeated to myself, blinking through the sting of pain and softening my upper body. Be like a leaf in a gentle breeze, soft, light, and graceful. The boy next to me snorted back, laughter catching my glare. He was my age, maybe a year or two older, with curly blonde hair and bright amber-brown eyes that sparkled in the light reflecting in the mirrors. He was handsome, but his smile truly drew me in. Wide and unhidden as he chuckled again, meeting my harsh glare with soft eyes. “Tes cheveux ressemblent à du feu.”

“What?” I asked, still struggling with my French. 

“Your hair,” he pointed at the bright red locks. “It looks like fire.”

Self-consciously I smoothed my hands over my head, pulling the loose strands away from my face. “I guess.”

The boy smiled. “I like it.”

I laughed nervously at his comment, not used to anyone complimenting me on my hair or, well, anything. “Thanks.”

He held his hand out. “I am François.”

I took it reluctantly. “I’m Lena.”

“Leeennnaaa,” he dragged out with a brilliant smile. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

My face burned as I turned away from him with a fraction of a smile. “I’d say I’m pretty average looking.”

François made a noise as he scooted closer to me. “Nonsense! Do you know how many people I’ve met that are average looking? Hundreds. You are not average in any sense, I would guess.”

Mother's stick slapped down onto his shoulder, but to my surprise, he merely exhaled a sharp breath and smiled wider. “Apologies, Mistress Glover.”

She gave me a stern look, her lips thinning into that familiar disappointed line. “Practice makes perfect. Tell me, how do you two intend to be perfect if you waste your time on idle chatting?”

“Perfection can be achieved in many ways," François replied. “It’s all a matter of what task you’re trying to perfect.”

“From now on, that task will be the routine. Am I clear?”

“Cristal, Maîtresse Gantier.” When she moved on, raising her stick to strike another student, François chuckled, nudging me with his shoulder. “She is a bit of a tight ass, no?”

I couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled out of my throat. “My mother is a woman of a singular focus.”

“Ta mère?” He sighed. “I apologize for my crudeness, Mademoiselle Glover. I did not realize the shrew - Mistress was your mother.”

“It’s Harrow. Lena Harrow. I have my father's last name.” I smiled at him. “And it’s alright. The… shrew can be rather intense.”

He laughed, warm and bright and full of life. The sound sent a wave of something odd through me… it made me feel happy just hearing it. “Will you dance with me, oiseau de feu?”

“Oiseau de feu?” I repeated with furrowed brows, looking over at the half-finished poster. L'Oiseau de feu. “Like the show?”

“Oui, I assume you are playing the Firebird?”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“This is good! For I am the mighty Prince Ivan!” François spun away, stopping to offer me his hand. “Now, dance with me mon précieux oiseau de feu!”

I wanted to dance for the first time since my mother began teaching me ballet. Taking his hand and letting him spin me into the intricate movements I’d been practicing night and day for months felt fun. Being part of the show no longer felt like a crushing weight on my back but rather a chance to dance with François, the boy that thought I was beautiful just as I was, even with the bumps and scrapes and bruises and blinding red hair. For the first time in my life, I felt seen and appreciated. For the first time, I cherished the nickname he’d given me and wanted to hear him call me it again. His Precious Firebird.

*

My body hummed with a lingering feeling of peace and a minor stiffness in my neck that slowly eased me into waking. When my heavy lids opened to the unfamiliar room, my heart stopped. Blinking slowly, I instantly took note of the hotel furniture and the impersonal paintings on the walls, and pure terror filled my gut. No. I let out a choked breath trying to move… to find a way out of here, but a weight settled across my waist and stopped me. My hand slid down, feeling across the back of the hand that had settled beneath my breasts. Soft skin, unmarred by the scar, I knew the man I feared had. 

In the distance, I heard the soft voices of Quinn and Ari as they walked down the hall together, and the previous night came flooding back to me with a deep breath of relief filling my lungs. I was safe. My palm flattened against the back of his hand. Jake. Tears stung my eyes, and my lips quivered as I relaxed into the stiff mattress, too soft pillows and against Jake’s chest. His body was curled around mine, the arm tightly keeping me against him as he snored softly. 

As soon as I settled, he began to stir, making soft noises of sleep, burying his head in my hair, and rubbing his nose against my ear. The erratic and near-painful pounding of my heart in my chest slowed. I drifted back to sleep, surrounded by his cologne and smoke. Safe.

I had no idea how long I slept, nor did I particularly care as I slowly woke to Jake's thumb smoothing along my skin as his hand flattened against my chest. Surprisingly he didn't utilize the position of his hand beneath my shirt to touch my boobs. Instead, his hand stayed firmly in place, gently rubbing my skin as he breathed deeply, face still buried in my hair. I smiled, remembering his confession about the way I smelled. "At this point, I should just buy you the perfume I use."

His chuckle shook the bed as he moved his lips to my ear. "It wouldn't smell nearly as good as you do."

"That's creepy," I teased. "You gonna cook me up and eat me?"

"I'm a shit cook," he replied. "I'll have Scott do it."

"Scott would tell you to fuck off."

Jake laughed, nodding his heart slightly. "Probably."

I stretched, pushing back into him slightly and cherishing the low groan that rumbled from his chest as my ass ground back into his morning wood. “Fuck.”

Smirking at him over my shoulder, I bit back a chuckle. “Sorry.”

“Yeah right,” he breathed out, pulling his hand from beneath my shirt and moving to allow me to roll onto my back. “You just like riling me up.”

“In my defense, you are really easy to get riled up,” I answered. “Which is ironic considering how you claim to be so good at this kind of thing.”

Jake tilted his head and raised a brow. “Was last night not enough of a demonstration for you?”

“It was… informative.”

“Informative?” He scoffed. “I think the word you’re thinking of is mindblowing.”

I rolled my eyes. “I think that’d be overselling it a bit.”

The blue in his eyes was darker than usual as he moved to hover over me. "Do you want some more attention, princess?"

"Depends. What kind of attention will I get this time?"

Jake was quick to offer up both a physical and verbal reply. His thumb brushed over my nipple, gently working the small bud until it was perked between his fingers. "I had quite the dream last night. My head, between your thighs, edging you until you were shaking… Begging for me to fuck you."

I tried to hide how his words affected me, but between his deep, sensual voice and his fingers rolling and pulling at my nipple, it was impossible to hold in the sharp gasp of blissful anticipation. "That doesn't sound like something I'd do."

He chuckled, face dipping lower until his lips caressed mine. "I enjoy a good challenge."

"Wakey, wakey!" Sasha's voice was louder than the door's slam hitting the wall. Jake and I stirred quickly, grumbling and glaring at him as he skipped into the room and hopped onto the bed. He pulled at the covers, trying to peek beneath them. "I see you are both still dressed!"

"Sasha fuck off!" Jake growled, grabbing a pillow from his side of the bed and hitting the Russian with it.

He giggled, sliding off the bed to kneel next to me. "Oohh, so grumpy! Sorry, dear Jakey, you had your chance to get your little cock wet last month. Now I need to keep you two celibate until after Halloween!"

“Why the sudden change of heart?” I asked.

“Because I don’t want those smug little cunts to win a cent.” Sasah grinned ear to ear. “You understand, don’t you, Tiger?”

Shoving his face away from me, I sat up next to Jake, who glared at the Russian lying on the floor. "Think I'm with grumpy on this one."

"Very well," Sasha humphed. "Strip yourselves and attack each other. I will watch!" Jake rolled his eyes and stood, picking the Russian up and ushering him toward the door. Sasha giggled in delight, eyes staring at Jake's crotch. "Oh, she did get you excited!"

The door slammed in Sasha's face, and Jake sighed, seeing one up and out of bed. I smiled, toying with the chain around his neck. "I think we'll have to explore your wet dream later. Raincheck?"

"I'll hold you to it."

"Aww, are you feeling riled up, pretty boy?" I taunted.

He grinned, pulling me in close, grinding himself against my hip. "Keep the jokes coming, princess. I'll remember each one when I'm edging you."

"I enjoy a challenge."

After showering, I bribed Prue into sneaking me a turtleneck from Quinn's stash of clothes to hide the area of discolored hickeys that covered my neck and chest. I knew it would still be obvious to everyone, but I decided to try to preserve some sense of privacy as I joined the others downstairs. Ari grinned wide. "I know what that outfit means. Let me see!"

I smacked her hands away, effectively twisting out of Quinn's reach. "You two are obsessed!"

When Jake finally finished showering and joined us, clothed in his usual t-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket, the group practically jumped on top of him. “Morning, Jakey!”

“Morning,” he grumbled.

“I see some claw marks,” Ari purred, wiggling her eyebrows at Jake. “Did you two finally light a fire with all that sexual tension?”

Sasha threw his arm around Jake’s shoulder with a smug smile. “No, they did not! I made sure of it!”

Ari shook her head. “You can’t seriously think you’ll be able to stop these two from doing it all the way til Halloween.”

“I can, and I will!” He insisted. “Laws of attraction.”

She rolled her eyes, groaning as she returned to Quinn's side. “Not this shit again.”

“Did you sleep okay, Lena?” Prue asked from where she and Will sat, curled into each other on the couch.

I blushed a bit and shrugged, both signing and saying, “I had some trouble at first, but yeah… I slept pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” Jake asked with a smirk. “By the way, you were… snoring I’d say it was more than just pretty good.”

“It could have been better.” I shrugged.

Quinn sipped her coffee and sighed. “We’re not stupid. We know you two are talking about whatever sexual favors you exchanged last night.”

Before I could offer up any argument, all our phones buzzed. Will sighed. “That can’t be good.”

Change of plans this morning. Meet outside the restaurant, and dress for a field trip. - Howard. 

“Another field trip?” Ari whined.

I glanced at everyone’s slightly sullen faces. “What’s going on?”

Jake shook his head, taking a quick bite of a small muffin. “Howard’s gone off the rails again.”

“Well, let's go see what he has in store this time,” Scott groaned. 

Heather made a face and shook her head. “God, I hope it’s not a pig again.”

I squinted at Jake as we followed the group to the elevator. Ari and Will hung back to give their partners goodbye kisses. “You guys went on a field trip to see a pig?”

“It was more to watch a pig bleed out,” he explained. “Definitely one of Howard's more fucked up changes.”

“Holy shit. Glad I wasn’t there for that.”

Ari laughed. “Well, the one upside to that morning was getting to hear Will’s gag scream.”

Will shook her hands off him. “I told you I was probably allergic to the hay or something.”

“Yeah, okay,” Heather replied.

Sasha shook his head. “I am still upset Howard chose the one morning I wasn’t going to be there to traumatize everyone.”

"You still gotta have fun after running around with the feet." Will noted.

"God you guys are disgusting," Scott complained.

22West was blocked from view by a large bus when we arrived. Howard and the others stood on the sidewalk, speaking quietly among themselves. Simone smiled, waving Jake to her side to quietly speak with him. Howard greeted everyone with a smile. "Good morning, Changelings."

"Morning Howard," we replied.

"Today is a special day. A very moving and beautiful new show is opening to the public. Tonight we'll be having many dining with us that are well-versed in this field, and so the owner and I agree that a trip to the ballet is in everyone's best interest."

Our eyes locked, and the pitiful look lingering on his face told me that my fear was rightly placed. My breath caught in my throat, bringing an aching burn to my chest as I looked away. The noise surrounding me blurred together as I boarded the bus, sitting in the very back and staring out the window. From a few rows up, sitting beside Simone, Jake turned and looked back at me a few times. The concern in his eyes only made me feel more anxious about this field trip, and the constant talking from our coworkers didn’t help.

They'd all been horrified at the sight of a pig being led to slaughter; little did they know they were doing it again. The only difference was I was the pig, and whatever my mother had in store was the blade she'd intended to bleed me dry with. I knew the road to the theatre by heart. Every bump and every stop. When the large courtyard came into view with the majestic fountain covering up the words hanging over the door of the boxy building with large windows. 

Everyone else was eager to get off the crowded bus, leaving me to slowly make my way to the front, where Howard waited for me. He offered up his hand, a friendly gesture meant to be an olive branch between us, but I walked past him, not even entertaining the thought of forgiveness. Jake stayed close to Simone but seemed to walk slowly as if wanting to wait for me to get off the bus before he committed to following everyone else inside. 

The soft echoes of classical music swept through the lobby as the staff greeted us sweetly. The memories of this place… the faint voice that scolded over the music… it all brought me to a halt. I would have turned and run if it weren’t for Howard's hand on my back, silently urging me to keep moving forward. Anger crawled up my spine as I shoved away from his touch. Fucking coward. Striding forward with my head high, I followed the group as the staff ushered them through the doors and into the darkened theatre. 

A host of dancers occupied the stage, dressed in simple practice tights as they leaped and spun through mothers quick movements. “One, two, three. One, two, three,” Her voice sent a cold chill straight into my veins as we filed loosely into the seats and watched the remainder of their routine. Once the dancers relaxed, lightly stretching out their stiff limbs, mother clapped. “Perfection! Absolute perfection, my little dancers! Tonight is going to be a glorious opening, all thanks to you.”

“Ms. Glover,” a smaller, familiar voice called to her from the crowd. Olive stood next to the stage, looking up at my mother with a smile. “The 22West party has arrived.”

“Thank you, Olivia.” My hands tingled as reality settled into my brain. All this time… Olive had never been just another hire. I turned and looked at Howard, who now refused to meet my gaze. All this time, she’d been working for my mother. What was her goal? To sabotage me and force me to come crawling back to her?

“Of course, Ms. Glover,” she replied, eyes meeting mine for a moment, flashing with envy and deep-rooted anger that stretched far beyond some half-assed mission to keep tabs on me.

My mother looked the same, her long half-curled blonde hair neatly pulled back into an elegant ponytail with her red stained lips curved into a smile I now knew was fake. “Lena,” she purred. “It is so good to see you, little one.”

From my seat, I continued to glare. “What do you want?”

“So forward,” she laughed. “As always.”

“We can do the back and forth if you really want to,” I offered coldly. “But something tells me you have no interest in looking bad in front of all these people.”

She shook her head and spread her arms wide. “Welcome to our humble theatre. My sister, your boss, has told me so much about all of you. As has my assistant, whom you’ve met. Olivia, please introduce yourself properly.”

The girl turned and smiled at everyone, no longer the meek little thing she’d been posing as. “Hello. So sorry for the deception, but my employer was worried if she reached out to her… daughter… directly, things would get unnecessarily complicated.” I bit my lip to keep in the loud scoff as she set her hand against her chest, eyes locking on Jake. “I’m Oliva, and it’s been an honor to work beside all of you.”

“This is creep city,” Sasha whispered somewhere in the crowd.

“Simone,” mother said softly as she smiled down into the crowd. “It is so lovely to finally have a face to imagine after all these months of speaking. I’m glad you could make it.”

The blonde-haired woman cleared her throat and chuckled, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder as he looked at her with confused eyes. At least that meant he had no idea that this was going to happen. “It is an honor to finally meet you, Jen.”

Refocusing on me, mother tilted her head to the side. “I’m not a monster, Lena. Despite what you’ve chosen to believe.”

“What. Do. You. Want.” I ground out.

“My dancers have been working so hard to perfect this piece. I fear the Pas de Deux is falling a bit short.” Gesturing to the side where Olive now held a small set of practice clothes, she continued, “I was hoping you would be able to show them how it’s done.”

"I'm the last person you want on that stage, and we both know it," I replied, glaring at her.

Mother scoffed. "Nonsense! Out of everyone in this room, you, little one, are the only one capable of showing these children how it's done." Her smile was just as cold as I'd remembered it. "After all, you excelled at the dance for two. Though, I suppose, that very well could have been your partner's talent."

My hands curled into the arms of my seat at the low and effective blow. "Or maybe it was the relentless beatings encouraging me to remember the steps."

"Come, Lena. Dance."

I could see the finality of it in her eyes as she stared me down. She wasn’t going to let this go, and knowing her, she was prepared to drag this out… to keep everyone here until I complied with her command. With one deep breath out through my nose, I stood, walked to Olive’s side and grabbed the clothes out of her hands, and headed to the bathroom to change into one of the spare practice tights and pre-distressed shoes. 

The stage was silent when I returned, save the gossiping whispers of my coworkers, who were now cast in darkness as the stage lights blinded me. I stood in front of my mother and shrugged. “What piece?”

“One you are more than familiar with.” I knew then and there exactly what her hope was. Pain. “Demetri,” she called the tall boy forward. “You’ll be dancing with her. Focus on the feel of the dance, not just the steps but the emotion behind the piece.”

The soft tune of Swan Lake’s “Love Duet” filled the theatre, and I felt my heart stop beating for a moment. Her cruelty knew no bounds as I carefully placed myself in the correct position and played along with her game. Demetri’s hand took mine, and a cold wave of remorse and a deep feeling of betrayal filled my lungs as he pulled me up into the dance for two François and I never got to have. We moved well together, my body remembering every step and every formation of its own accord despite not having practiced for almost two months. The sting of pain that settled in my toes was worse than it would have been if I’d kept practicing, but right now, I didn’t care. 

Demetri dipped me back, carefully contorting my spine. The lights made me feel dizzy as they swirled in my vision, and as I was pulled back up, I was suddenly thirteen again. And the stranger that had dipped me wasn't a stranger anymore, but rather the wild fourteen-year-old boy whose smile filled my world with sunlight. He grinned at me, pulling me in close with a wink. "Don't worry, Précieuse. I won't let you mess up."

I breathed a sigh of relief, melting into his arms and letting him guide me through the steps. "François."

He smiled wider. "Hold onto me, my firebird, and feel the dance!"

“I’m a swan now,” I corrected him.

“A flaming swan,” he chuckled. “What imagery!”

The light curls on his head bounced as he twisted and twirled, lifting me high into the air and never faltering. His sunlight was the only thing that seemed to break through the storm clouds that were my mother and her stick. François was good, far better than I deserved, yet he chose me to dance with every day, even after our roles were gone. A weight lifted off my shoulders as we moved together in our new Pas de Deux.

We danced through the entire routine before the face in front of mine shifted back. A stranger stared back at me. Brown hair and face void of all laughter and smiling. Not, François. Tears filled my eyes as the two of us turned and bowed to the now-clapping crowd. I could feel my hands shaking, could feel the heavy breaths I drew inward, but I had no way of stopping it. All I could focus on was not letting the tears in my eyes fall.

Mother didn’t clap as she dismissed Demetri with a wave. “That was sloppy.” There it is. “You were far too stiff, and your limbs to flimsy.”

“Well, sadly, we don’t have access to a boat,” I told her. “So you’ll have to think of some other way to punish me for my laziness.”

Shaking her head, she sighed. “I am so disappointed. All the work we did, all the years we spent perfecting you… wasted.”

Grinding my teeth together, I shrugged, trying to remain unphased by her words. “This is the life I’ve chosen for myself.”

“Life?” She hissed in French. “These tattoos and the lowly position in that damn restaurant is hardly a life.” Taking a step forward, she brushed my hair away from my neck, examining the hickeys Jake had left there only an hour or so ago with a tight look. “All these years later, and you still insist on parading yourself around this city like some common whore. What would Anthony think?”

“He can choke on his opinions,” I sneered back.

The slap was something I saw coming, but judging by the sharp gasps that filled the darkened crowd, my coworkers hadn’t. “Don’t you dare insult him! That man offered you everything, and you threw it all away. Because of what? Some small bruises here and there?”

I straightened up, blinking away the tears. “We both know you’ll have to hit me a lot harder than that.”

“Such a child,” she whispered. “What would your father think if he could see you now?”

“He’d tell me to spit in your face and tell you to go to hell.” I breathed out a ragged breath. “And then he’d take me home, and we’d celebrate finally being rid of you.”

“Are you rid of me, little one?” She purred in French. “Or have you simply not realized how deeply you still need me?”

“I don’t regret leaving,” I told her firmly. “I never will.”

“We will see.”

Turning quickly, I started to head back toward the bathroom when the loud thumping of a cane striking the floor stopped me, and a head of curly blonde hair emerged from behind the curtains. François… He looked so different, older but no less handsome. His eyes watched me, sorrow and pain and everything left unspoken between us raging within them. The memory of that night hummed between us, a painful and powerful force that made me wish I’d never come here again.

*

Tony’s hand tightened painfully around mine, crushing my palms against the gun's metal. He kept his aim steady even as my hands shook uncontrollably. “Please don’t do this…” I sobbed, staring at François’ bleeding and swollen face as Tony’s men dragged him to his feet. “I’ll do anything! Please, Tony, just let him go!”

“It’s too late for all that, baby girl. Now it’s time to face the consequences of your actions.”

François groaned, “Bâtard.”

I could feel Tony’s smile against my ear. “Pull the trigger, Lena.”

Dread filled my gut with the strong urge to vomit. “N… No… I…”

Tony’s fingers forced mine over the trigger, slowly increasing the weight behind them and pushing my smaller, weaker fingers down on the trigger. “Pull. The. Trigger.”

“Please,” I begged him, tears nearly blinding me. “Please… I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Tony, I won’t do it again. I promise just-”

“PULL THE TRIGGER!”

I couldn’t fight him as he forced his finger down the rest of the way, and the trigger pulled back. The gunshot was louder than I thought it’d be, but the kick of the gun made me scream. I focused on the scarlet liquid covering the pavement as the two men holding François up let him fall. As the pained wails followed, his body hit the ground with a sickening sound. The blood poured from his knee, rushing through his fingers like rivers as he turned onto his back.

All I could do was stand there, in Tony’s too-tight grip, as François… my friend… the boy I thought the world of, cried out in pain. “This is what happens when you refuse my kindness, Lena. All of this… is your doing.”

He let go of me, letting me rush forward to kneel beside the wounded boy. “François!”

“My leg…” he cried out. “My… my leg…”

I pressed my hands to his knee, choking back sobs as his pained wails echoed around us. I tried to comfort him… tried to tell him everything would be alright, but I knew it was a lie. Finally, Tony clicked his tongue and kicked my leg. "Get up."

My heart hammered in my chest as my eyes clouded over with fat, blurry tears. "I… I…" I’m sorry. I wanted to offer up to console him. I love you. I wanted to admit out loud, at least once, before he…

"Don't leave me," he begged through his cries. "Do not leave me here, Précieuse."

With a scoff, Tony’s hand twisted in my hair. "I said get up!" The too-familiar sting of him pulling me by my roots exploded across my scalp as he tore me from the boy lying in his own blood. I cried out as he threw me against the red and white sports car parked at the mouth of the alley. My head cracked against the cold metal, vision swimming as I looked back.

"Précieuse…" He gasped, turned, and reached out toward me. "Lena, please!"

Tony shoved me into the passenger seat and quickly pulled out of the alleyway onto the busy road. The city lights bled together, distorted in the falling drops of rain. I looked down at my hands covered in blood - the blood of the boy I had grown to love and that I thought could somehow love me in return - and breathed out a sharp sob. "Shut up," Tony growled, throwing me a silk handkerchief. "Clean yourself up, and don't you dare puke in my car."

"Are… Are you going to kill him?" I stuttered, shakily following his command.

He laughed, a sound that brought a cold chill down my spine. "There are worse things than dying, baby girl. You'd best remember that the next time you wanna get friendly with idiot boys." His hand settled onto my thigh, squeezing so hard it hurt. "You belong to me, and it’d be in your best interest not to forget that again. We’re going home.”

Home. I thought of my father and brothers… Ozzy, Quinn, and even Dom. I want to go home, I admitted, as more tears streamed down my cheeks. But I couldn’t, and now that I was here… now that Tony had me, I knew deep in my gut that I wouldn’t see home or those I loved again.

*

My eyes fixed on the leg that I’d not seen since I visited him in the hospital after, and then I looked at the cane he held in a tight grip. “There are worse things than dying.” I bowed my head, offering him the only thing he’d ever asked of me as I shakily walked past him and out the door. Once I’d slid into the bathroom, the tears I’d held back began to fall. I settled against the wall, slowly dropping myself to the floor when the door opened. 

Ari slid through the door, spotting me on the floor with furrowed brows and an understanding look. Without a word, she joined me, curling an arm around my side and pulling me into her embrace. “Let it all out, tiger.”

I sobbed into her shoulder, unleashing all the pain that the morning had unearthed from inside me. She and I weren’t the closest friends, but at that moment, I was thankful it had been her to find me. Ari understood what it felt like to have a parent like my mother, or at least she understood enough. As we sat beside one another until my tears stopped flowing, Ari ran her fingers through my hair and gently reassured me that I wasn’t alone. 

“Thanks,” I whispered to her as we pulled apart, and I fixed myself in the mirror.

She set her chin on my shoulder and smiled sadly. “Fuck your mom.” With a quick kiss on my cheek, she turned to leave. “I’ll wait for you outside. We can sit together on the bus.”

True to her word Ari waited. She walked back to the bus with me, holding my hand as we slid through the tight aisle and sat near the back. Simone had taken the front seat, alone and looking stoic. Jake sat a row behind us with Heather, but his eyes were glued to me the whole ride back, and remained that way in the locker room while everyone quietly changed for the night of service ahead of us. 

He waited until we were alone to turn, closing his locker as he did, and say, “I didn’t know Simone had been talking to your mom.”

“I know,” I assured him.

“Are you…” he stopped himself, likely realizing how asking me if I was okay was a stupid question. “What can I do?”

I closed my locker and turned to him. “You don’t have to do anything, Jake.”

“I want to help,” he admitted.

“You are helping. Just by being here… asking me this, you’re helping.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

I wrapped my arms around him, giving him a quick hug. “I know, but it is. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, princess.”

The night was shockingly calm as service came and went without a hitch. Before I knew it, I was gathering my things and telling Jake I’d meet him down by the bar. It was then when I was alone, that Howard cleared his throat and entered the locker room. “Lena…”

“Don’t.” I turned and glared at him. “I don’t want some half-assed apology, Howard. Especially not from you.”

“I didn’t have a choice, Lena.”

“Yes, you did. You could have said no.” I shook my head and scoffed. “Going to observe a ballet rehearsal has nothing to do with fine dining or our guests. You knew this was a fucking ploy to get me in the same room as her, and you did it anyway!” Moving to stand closer to him, I clenched my jaw. “You’re a weak, spineless, sniveling excuse for a man…  a fucking coward.”

Each step I took down the stairs was filled with a cool-tempered need to run, to get as far from this city as I possibly could. I turned to the alley door, ignoring the familiar shouts of my name as Jake followed close behind me. Go, my body hummed. Run.

“Lena!” Jake called out, rushing to catch up to me and block me from leaving the alley.

"Get out of my way Jake."

"Just slow down for one minute," he breathed out, taking hold of my shoulders. "Fuck the cape. Remember?"

"Jake..." A weak noise tore through my throat. “I…”

His hands framed my face gently. "Hey, hey, look at me." I followed his quiet plea and looked into his eyes... Eyes so blue I thought for a moment I would drown in them. "Don't run. Stay." He pressed his forehead against mine. "Stay with me."

"And do what?" I cried. "Force you to sit in this pity party with me?"

"Come with me," he urged, taking my hand and carefully pulling me along. "Come on, princess, just indulge me."

We walked hand in hand a few blocks up to an old movie theatre, where Jake smiled down at my confused face and led me inside. “We’re going to a movie?”

He nodded. “You too good for the movies?”

“No, but I thought you’d find them childish.”

“It’s a good way to distract yourself,” he replied. “I used to go to the movies a lot when Simone lived in France.”

“She lived in France?” I asked. “Funny, I guess I just can’t imagine her outside of the restaurant.”

Jake shrugged. “She was miserable there, though she won’t admit it. It was a hard time for me… I needed to distract myself a lot.”

I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, tonight is about distracting you. So, pick a movie.”

Staring at the posters advertising the movies they had, I hummed. “You pick.”

He grinned. “You sure? I don’t know if you’ll like what I choose.”

“I’m sure,” I insisted. “Surprise me, grump.”

“Okay, just remember you asked for it.”

The urgent desire to flee had simmered into a passing thought now as I watched Jake pay for the tickets and snacks. If Quinn saw us, she’d say this was a date. Which it wasn’t. This was two friends watching a movie. Jake nodded me toward the hallway leading back into the showing rooms and carefully took hold of my hand once we entered the darkened theatre. He led us all the way up the stairs to the very back of the room, moving through the aisle to get the perfect middle seats before he plopped down and got comfortable.

It was relatively empty, with one a few people scattered about the theatre watching the ads on the screen. “What did you choose?” I asked, leaning in close so he’d hear me.

“The Entrance. It’s some kind of demon horror film.”

“Oh,” I made a face which in turn made Jake chuckle. 

“Told you.”

I rolled my eyes at him, settling back in my seat. “I’m fine with horror.”

He nodded. “Uh-huh, well, my hands always here if you need something to hold onto, princess.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

The film wasn’t anything too horrible, but I found myself leaning into Jake’s side, bringing my knees up to my chest with his leather jacket draped over me to give myself a discrete way to hide if I needed to. Jake knew, of course, but said nothing as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder when things got too intense. It was only when we were nearing the end of the film that I realized his plan had worked. The urge to run off to some nowhere town was gone, replaced by an anxious feeling that came with watching horror films and a warmth that came with Jake holding me.

I turned my head and looked up at him, admiring the way he watched the movie with a look of wonder. He noticed me staring and turned his head, lips quirking up into a smile. “What?”

“Thank you,” I whispered back. “For coming after me.”

“What else would I have done? We pinky swore.”

I shoved him with a hand to the chest. “I’m serious. I… I would have gone back if you hadn’t of thought of this. So, thanks.”

Jake held my hand to his chest and smiled. “You're welcome.”

The movie played as we stared at one another, overexaggerated screams and demonic noises filling the theatre, and yet all I could see was him as he leaned forward and dipped his head down to capture my lips. His jacket slid off my legs as I turned my body toward him, pushing back against him. It had felt like ages since we’d kissed when I knew it was only a few days prior. But god, his lips were far more addictive than any drug I’d had. They moved against mine, desperate and wanting, demanding me to meet his quick pace, and I did.

Jake’s hand slid up my arm and buried it in my hair while the other grabbed my thigh, pulling it into his lap. I groaned quietly, opening my mouth to his eager tongue. Both of us seemed content to ignore the end of the movie as we made out in the back row like two teenagers. It wasn’t until the lights turned on that we found it in ourselves to separate. 

“You’ve never seen Ghostbusters?” I shrieked on the walk home.

“I haven’t,” he repeated. “Is that weird?”

“YES!” I laughed. “It’s a classic!”

Our shoulders brushed as we walked through the crowded sidewalks until my apartment came into view ahead of us. “You gonna invite me to stay the night?”

I looked up at him. “What makes you think I was gonna do that?”

"You kissed me back."

"So?" I offered him a half-nervous smirk. "I'm still not going to sleep with you."

Jake rolled his eyes. "No?"

"Nope."

"Why not?" He asked with a quirked brow. "We've done pretty much everything else."

I looked back out at the bright city lights ahead of us, the chilled breeze stinging my face. Before I could even think, I answered him, "Because the second I do all this ends. No more tag. No more sarcastic quips. No more walks home. No more Jake." The silence that followed felt like a punch to the gut, a feeling that spurred me into talking more. I bumped into him lightly. "Believe it or not, I like you. I don't wanna lose this."

Jake didn't reply for a while, and honestly, I didn't expect him to.. "So what you're saying is you like me too much to fuck me?"

I laughed, "I guess."

He bumped me back and quietly admitted, "I like you too." When I looked up at him, he smiled, tight and nervous. "I like you too much to fuck this up."

"So don't," I advised as we reached my apartment, where Ryker stood by the steps. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jake nodded to the biker, quickly noticing the others that stood across the street. “I’m guessing this guard detail is because of the rock?” 

Scratching the back of my head, I nodded. “Yeah, Dom’s kind of overprotective.”

“Or he just knows how dangerous a freak with a rock can be.”

“Hey,” I touched his face softly. “Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

He answered with a tight smile. “I’d hope so with six bikers on your block.”

My legs carried me up the stairs, waving to Ryker. “Hey, Ry.”

“Hey, Lee,” he replied.

I turned and smiled at Jake. “Goodnight, Jerky Jake.”

He shook his head, feigning annoyance. "Night, Lana.”

*

The next day was hell. The restaurant was flooded with guests who seemed to be in the worst mood. Everyone was scrambling, everyone but Simone and Olive. The two worked in perfect harmony, outshining everyone in the front room and gaining the guest's favor. It was infuriating. Each time I ran ice back to the bar or grabbed someone a bottle of wine, I saw their smug smiles and overly polite, fake tones. All this time, they’d been working together to try and get me so fed up I’d quit, and honestly, now that I knew, it felt so obvious. 

How did I miss that? I asked myself. I used to be so observant when it came to threats like this. Jake smiled at me from behind the bar, and the answer to my unasked question had been clear. I’d been distracted. So much so that I missed the deception right in front of me. Still, I gave the night everything I had, running ice to the bar and cooking beside Scott, and washing dishes with Santos. No matter how much I did, I couldn’t shake the way Simone and Olive’s smug faces made me feel.

After shift drinks came like an answered prayer as I sat down beside Sasha and smiled at Jake. “What did you make me tonight?”

Sliding the glass of amber liquid to me, he smirked. “Just a simple Manhattan tonight.”

“With a cherry,” I said, plucking the small fruit out of my drink. “How thoughtful.”

Olive slid into the seat to my right, leaning over the bar to touch Jake's arm. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

Jake gave me a quick look before he moved to gather the things he needed. “Something you needed, Olive?”

“I just wanted to sit with you.” She hummed. “It feels different than I thought it would.”

“I didn’t know sitting with someone was supposed to make you feel things.”

Olive examined her nails and shrugged. “I mean, you’re kind of a legend. Your mother raves about how talented you are.”

I took a long drink. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“She also talks at length about your laziness and poor attitude.”

“That sounds right.”

Olive’s face turned sour. “She loves you so much.”

“She’s not capable of loving anyone but herself,” I told her coldly. 

“You ungrateful bitch,” Olive sneered. “You constantly insult your mother with this… sad excuse of a life. You tarnish the name of a man that gave you everything. It’s like you don’t understand how fucking lucky you are!”

My jaw clenched as the fire in my lungs grew uncontainable. I turned my head with a humorless laugh, ignoring Isaac’s desperate attempts to get my attention from across the bar. “Lucky? Is that what you think I am?”

Olive didn’t back down, something I might’ve respected if she’d not touched every last nerve. “I know that’s what you are.”

“Luck didn’t teach me to play the piano. I spent hours playing keys until my fingers bled. Luck didn’t magically make me memorize her dance moves. I stayed up for four days straight practicing until I had to peel off my fucking toenails.” I stood, towering over her, anger and pain, and everything I’d shoved so deep down inside me came pouring to the surface. “Luck didn’t keep me from drowning in the damn ocean. I did. And luck sure as fucking hell didn’t drag me half a block through the goddamn snow while I was bleeding out! I DID!” Everyone around us was perfectly still and silent. It felt like time had frozen for a split second, but I knew it didn’t. “You want her to love you? You want to be me so bad? Then why don’t you find a piano to play or wear a pair of those shoes you look at every day and dance? You want my life? Fucking take it!”

Her wide eyes watched me, shocked and slightly scared, but deep in them, a satisfied fascination gleamed. I shook my head and turned away from her, walking past the long line of staring faces until I practically threw myself out the back alley door. My heart beat wildly in my ears, filling me with the severe shortness of breath that made everything too much. I had to go. I had to get the hell out of here. The cold air bit my skin. The only relief from the burning that had consumed me. 

I wanted not to feel this anymore. I wanted to feel nothing at all. With shaking hands, I pulled my phone out and quickly dialed the number I knew by heart. “Hey, it’s me. I need you.”

*

Jake had followed Lena after she stormed off. He’d called her name, but she didn’t hear him… or just chose not to respond. Fuck! He cursed himself. The group gossiped among themselves about the outburst of their beloved Tiger, but none of them knew what the fuck they were really talking about. His eyes were glued to Olive’s ugly dyed head where she sat next to Simone, whose lack of surprise at Olive’s true identity made his stomach churn. There were several moments where he had to bite his tongue when one of their friends said some hair-brained theory about Lena. He wouldn’t tell them anything, no matter how wild their theories got. He wasn’t going to betray her trust like that. Especially not while she was dealing with all this. 

Olive departed without another word to anyone save the confident wink she sent his way. When Simone rose from her seat and quietly made her way to the locker room and for some reason, he couldn’t stop himself from following after her. “How did you know her mom?”

She turned and looked back at him, the expression on her face slightly exasperated but soft. “Jennifer Glover reached out to me a few months ago. She was worried about her daughter and asked me to keep an eye on her.”

“So you and Olive set this whole thing up?”

“Jake,” Simone cooed. “I was just trying to help. She’s been… stressed lately, and I thought-”

“You thought the woman that abused and neglected her would make that better somehow?”

Simone’s face hardened for a moment as she took in the new information. “I didn’t know about that. I swear. I thought you, of all people, would understand my intentions. There’s something about a mother's comfort that seems to solve a lot of problems. I thought it would apply here.”

Jake breathed out his anger and shook his head. “I do understand… I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“Worried,” she finished for him. “You care for her.”

“Simone-”

Holding up her hand, she shook her head with a smile, pressing it to his chest. “You don’t need to explain it to me, Jake. I know you. And if she’s… important to you, then I’ll do my best to get along with her.”

Relief filled Jake’s chest as he leaned into her touch. “Thank you.”

“Try not to worry too much about her,” she advised. “Lena is a very independent girl. I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

Jake should have found comfort in her words, but he didn’t, couldn’t, not when he knew what Lena was feeling. Simone and the others left, and after Jake helped Nicky close things down, he set out for the one place he knew Lena would go to if she was still in the city. The others were already at Ozzy’s when he arrived, dancing and drinking and doing the things they always did. But, to his relief, Lena stood next to a table of her friends and family, wearing a crop top and short skirt with glitter in her hair. 

He approached with an audible sigh of relief as she turned and smiled widely at him. “Jake!”

Lena stumbled toward him, a wave of alcohol sweeping over him and burning his nose as she pulled herself into his arms and tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss. He could taste the rum on her tongue, mingling with several shots of fireball. When she pulled away and sagged against him, he shook his head. “Are you wasted right now?”

“No!” She snorted, nearly tipping them both over as her body swayed. Her eyes caught Sasha in the crowd, and just as suddenly as she’d come, she was gone. 

Jake sat in the booth beside Quinn, who tipped her cup to him. “Welcome to babysitting duty!”

“How much has she had to drink?”

“Ask asshat,” Peter grumbled, looking at Patrick.

Patrick rolled his eyes and took a drink of his beer. “She calls I get her drunk. That’s the deal. It keeps her from relapsing, so I don’t see the big issue.”

Peter shook his head and pointed to the dance floor, where Lena moved with the crowd. “She’s not gonna let us take her home tonight. You know how she gets when she drinks this much.”

“I know,” Patrick nodded to Jake. “But now that he’s here, I doubt it’ll be an issue.”

Quinn laughed. “I mean, dick is one of drunk Lena’s main motivators. And since it’s attached to her dear sweet Jakey, it should be foolproof.”

“See,” Patrick replied, grinning at his brother. “Nothin' to worry about.”

Peter sighed. “Quinn, bathroom.”

“On it!” The stripper jumped on top of the table, hopping clean over him to rush to Lena’s side and drag her toward the bathrooms with Prue joining in to help.

Jake watched them for a minute before turning to the two brothers. “So I’m some kind of distraction?”

Peter leaned forward. “Our sister has very strict moods when it comes to this level of drinking.”

“The first, as you probably coulda guessed, is she gets real touchy.” Patrick winked at him.

“Then she gets overly honest. And from there she’s a ball of energy looking for a fight.”

“Or a fuck.”

Jake nodded, eyes narrowing. “So, I’m supposed to what?”

Peter regarded Jake with a look, one similar to the one he’d given him months ago with the threat. “You convince her to go home. Nothing else.”

“And what if she presses for more than a quick drop off?”

“Watch a movie with her, play a board game, I don’t care just be respectful.”

The warning, though one he knew was Peter’s way of showing love for his sister, stung. Patrick nudged the bald man. “Oi, Jake ain’t some criminal. He’ll take care of her.”

Quinn and Prue led Lena back to their table, letting her flop down beside Jake before shooing the boys to make room. The redhead looked up at him with a weak smile. “I threw up.”

He chuckled and brushed her hair out of her face. “I bet. Maybe we should take it easy for a minute.”

“That sounds boring.”

“Boring can be fun sometimes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t sound right.”

Ozzy walked to their table with a kind nod and a plate of drinks. “Good ta see ya Jake. Was wonderin when you’d find your way here after this one showed up.”

“Yeah, she’s quick.”

Ozzy set a small shot glass down in front of her. “Oooh, what’s this one?”

“Water,” he replied.

“Eww,” Lena whined.

Giving her a stern but loving look, Ozzy pointed. “Drink it, or I’ll have one of the idiot's spoon feed it to you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him but lifted the glass of water to her lips and downed the liquid quickly. “Happy?”

The older man ruffled her hair with his large hand. “Yes, I am, you stubborn girl.”

As the night dragged on Jake saw what the others had meant about Lena’s drunken moods. She touched him every chance she got, leaning on him, hugging him, kissing him. Jake did his best to keep her from doing something she’d likely regret, but as he’d been warned she was difficult to reason with. When the brutal honesty started coming into play the others quickly vacated the area, not wanting to be given unsolicited advice on their deepest and most troubling issues. Luckly for him she seemed more focused on laying across his lap than she was unearthing all his issues.

The biker leader walked through the door and Lena jumped from the booth, tackling him in a big hug. “DOM!”

Jake noted that the only times he’d seen the cold drug dealer smile was with Lena and conflicted feelings rose in his chest. Dom walked her back to the booth and sat down next to her, feeling her forehead and checking her eyes. “Just drinks tonight?”

“Yep.” She over pronounced the P with a giggle. “I really wanted to call you though. You’re more fun.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. I’ve got shit to do tonight.”

Lena pouted. “Awwww you’re not gonna babysit me?”

“Maybe I’ll drop by later and check up on ya.” Dom offered.

“That’s good enough I guess.”

Dom met Jake’s eyes over the table. “You in charge of her tonight?”

He shrugged, looking around to Prue and Will dancing and Quinn and Ari at the bar. “Looks like it.”

He nodded. “Get her home safe, tough guy.”

After another hour dancing with her, Jake finally managed to coax Lean out the door and toward her house. They greeted the bikers, whose numbers had seemingly grown, bringing a tense feeling to his gut. Once Lena opened her door she was on him. Soft hands caressing his cheeks and pulling his hair while her addictive mouth kissed and nipped at his lips and neck. Jake felt lightheaded as he chased her lips, wanting nothing more than to keep kissing her, but knowing that he couldn’t.

She was surprisingly strong as she manuvered them toward her bedroom door, pulling him from his own selfish desires and back into the moment. Holding her shoulders and pushing her away slightly he huffed. “Wait.”

“What?” She whined, trying to pull him closer. “Don’t you want to?’

Yes. Jake ground his teeth together. “No, not like this.”

Everything shifted as her lower lip wobbled. "Am I horrible?" She asked him, tears shining in her eyes. "Why does no one want me?"

Her words… The hoarse, near-sobbing sound of her voice felt like a slap to the face. There was no way she actually thought he or anyone didn't want her. She was everything… Perfect in ways he couldn't even explain. But her face said it all. Lena looked exactly how she had when he pulled her out of the water that night in The Cape. She looked like a lost and scared girl, searching for the love and acceptance of a mother capable of neither. At that moment, he saw every ounce of pain and insecurity she'd carried with her just as real as her scars.

He carefully took her face in his hands and sighed. "That's not why…" God damn it. Jake pressed his body into hers, chasing the now fleeting feeling of her warmth. "I do want you, Lena. God, I want you." His thumbs wiped away the tears that slid down her cheeks. "I want you sober. I want you to remember everything we say and do… and I want you not to regret any of it after."

She grabbed at his clothes, eyes filled with that brave or stupid drunken gleam of truth. "I've never wanted anyone the way I want you." Her hands were so soft and warm against his skin as she molded herself into him, pressing her lips to his. "I wouldn't regret you, Jake… I couldn't."

He wanted to give in to her. Wanted to finally know what being with her without their stupid rules, barriers, and games would be like. But above all that desire, Jake couldn't shake the familiar feeling of nausea that settled in his gut. At that moment, he felt like he had all those nights with Simone. He felt like a tool there only to alleviate her hurt… He felt like she was using him.

Jake's grip on her tightened slightly as he gently put some space between them. "It doesn't feel right. I don't… I don't want you to use me to distract yourself."

She seemed to sober up in an instant, pulling herself away from him. Jake prepared for the angry shouts and the hideous words to fly at him. His whole body tensed in preparation, only to be met with her tender voice, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to feel…" Lena shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Jake. I shouldn't have put my shitty issues on you. That wasn't fair of me."

"You're not mad?" He asked, now on the verge of tears of his own.

"No," she breathed, retaking a step toward him. "I'm not mad at you. I would never be mad at you for this." His heart pounded in his ears, the nervousness and nausea fading slowly. Then, sensing the shift, Lena stepped closer again. "Can I… Can I hug you?"

Jake said nothing, silently reaching out and wrapping his arms around her. At that moment, her hands settling against his back felt better than anything he'd ever felt during some one-night stand. She'd once told him sex wasn't everything… That intimacy and closeness could come from simple things. He hadn't believed her then, but now… Now he understood what she meant. With his face buried into her hair, he whispered, "Thank you."

After a minute or longer, she pulled back, wordlessly wiping the tears that had slipped through his burning eyes. "You can go home if you want to. I'll be alright on my own. Or, you can stay for a bit. Whatever you want."

"We could watch that movie you were telling me about," he offered, slightly unsure.

"I still can't believe you've never seen Ghostbusters." Lena smiled at him, and he knew this was real. She really didn't mind him refusing her advances. She didn't hold it against him. "I'm gonna go change if you want to start it. Should just be on the shelf."

"Okay," was all he could say as he dumbly watched her walk away, closing the bedroom door behind her. 

It felt weird. The way the air had instantly lifted once he'd told her how he felt. Simone would have found a way to convince him. She would have suggested some wine or changed in front of him, knowing his resolve would falter seeing her. Simone would have been angry for weeks after. She would have called him a child. He shook his head, moving to put the movie in and settle on her couch next to the tiger stuffed animal he won for her. For once, it didn’t matter to him what Simone would have done. Now, all he focused on was what Lena did.

She joined him on the couch, reaching over to grab the stuffed tiger and cuddle into him as the movie started. “I like this movie much better than the one you picked.”

Jake watched her more than he did the screen. “I do too.”

Once she’d drifted to sleep on his lap, Jake picked her up and carried her to her room. She sleepily snuggled the tiger under the covers and looked up at him, lifted her head to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Goodnight, Jake.”

His whole face tingled. “Goodnight, Lena.”

*

The hangover I had the next morning was brutal, but it beat waking up in some stinking drug den so I didn’t complain. Prue and Quinn gave me the quick rundown of the night after my memory started to blur. “Did Jake take me home?”

“Yeah, he was so sweet.”

“Why?”

I remembered him in my apartment, our kissing and the way my body had burned for him, but above all that I remembered the way he’d stopped things before they got out of hand and the vunerable moments that followed. “No reason.”

The Ring was empty when I got there, but the sound of chains rattling drew me to the small practice ring, where Peter tiredly swung at the bag in the corner until he stumbled and had to lower himself to the mat. I greeted the small hairless cat before moving to join him. “You’re getting stronger.”

“Slowly.”

Taking hold of his hand I smiled. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, big brother.”

He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. “I know.”

“Did you see her?” I asked him with a sad look.

“No.” Peter sighed. “She showed up and hung around for an hour, but I didn’t… I don’t have anything left to say to her.”

I squeezed his hand tighter. "Probably for the best. I know what she does to you."

Peter turned his head, looking down at me from where he lay. "How are you holding up?"

"Poorly," I answered honestly. "I don't think I've ever wanted to get high more than I do right now."

"No one would think less of you if you did." My brother's face was filled with understanding.

"I would."

He nodded, bumping his forehead to mine. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

Clenching my jaw, I sighed. "Will you come to work with me? I don't know if she'll show up, but… I…"

"I get it." Carefully he sat up. "Let me go get dressed into something nicer."

"For the love of god, don't put that suit back on!"

True to his word Peter came down in a nice blazer and simple dress pants, both of which thankfully fit him. He happily joined me through my shift, chatting with Nicky and Jake at the bar while I ran food to the dining room. Our mom didn’t show and by the time ten oclock came around we both knew she wasn’t going to. But, just when I’d begun to relax… to let my guard down the stiff sound of a cane dragging along the floor caught my attention.

“Bonjour, Précieuse.” He sounded so different from how I’d remembered. Older… sad.

I turned, abandoning the kitchen doors I’d been standing in front of to look at him. He looked the same as he had when I saw him at the theatre, but tonight was different… Heavier. “François… I didn’t… I…”

His lips thinned into a tight line. “Oui, I know you were not expecting to see me again. However, I could not help myself.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wish to speak with you.”

*

Convincing Tony to let me visit François in the hospital had been surprisngly easy, something that had put me on edge, but I’d assumed that after last night… after he got what he wanted he’d calmed down. With a modest bouquet of lilies and lavender I approached his door, quietly knocking before I entered. “François?”

The golden haired boy weakly turned his head to look at me, eyes red and puffy. “What are you doing here?”

I walked toward him, moving slower, stiff and sore, my body still recovering from last night. I sat in the empty seat beside him with a wince, carefully adjusting until the pain was mostly bearable. “I wanted to check in… make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay?” He spat. “Look at me… Why would I be okay?”

“I-”

“You left me there.” His eyes filled with tears as he grabbed the flowers from my hand and threw them across the room. I flinched. “YOU LEFT ME THERE!”

Tears filled my eyes as I shook, holding onto my arms tightly. “I didn’t have a choice…”

François shook his head and whined. “The doctors say the damage done to my knee is severe. They say I will never dance again.”

“I’m…” I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, François. I… What can I do?”

“Leave.”

“What?” Hurt filled my lungs as I looked at him, the boy who once held nothing but joy and life and love in his eyes. Now those eyes were filled with pain and hatred.

“Leave. And do not come back.”

“François,” I whispered. “Please… I…”

He turned his head away from me, crying softly. “I do not want to see you ever again Lena Glover.”

I didn’t remember standing, or getting on the elevator with Tony’s men, but as we rode down everything became clear. There are worse things than dying.

*

Jake wiped the bar down slowly, his eyes fixed on the red hair that glowed beneath the dining room lights for a long minute before they shifted to the face of the man across from her. He looked sad, Jake noted. He looked like a pain deeper than eyes could see haunted his every waking moment, a feeling Jake knew too well. He’d noticed how hesitant Lena had been agreeing to sit down with him, and now he was determined to make sure she felt safe.

“Relax,” Peter told him from where he still sat at the bar. “François is one of the good ones.”

Shaking his head he moved his rag slightly. “She didn’t seem too excited to see him.”

Peter nodded, looking down at the water in his glass. “There’s a lot of pain there. A lot that’s been left unsaid for too long.”

“Who is he?”

“A dancer,” Peter replied. “She always spoke of him fondly so I assume they had somewhat of a blooming romance.”

“What happened between them?”

The brothers face furrowed. “That’s not my story to share. Just… let her have this, Jake. She deserves the closure.” He stood, putting his blazer back on. “Tell her I went home and to call if she needs me.”

Jake turned his eyes back to their table, watching closely for any sign of distress. “I will.”

*

“You look good,” I told him, stiffly sitting in the chair across from him.

“As do you,” he replied.

The awkward silence was killing me slowly. “Why did you come here?”

François sighed. “I’ve wanted to see you for a long time, but I never had the courage to… not after…”

I cast my eyes downward. “I understand.”

“No,” he whispered. “You do not. I never should have blamed you for what happened.”

“It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t,” he insisted. “The man behind the gun is the one to blame for what happened, Lena. I was… I was angry. In one night my life had changed so drastically. I thought without dancing… that I was nothing.” He sighed. “And I took that fear out on you.”

You deserved it. “I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“As am I.” He smiled. “Will you… dance with me?”

“What?”

He gestured to the empty space of the dining room. “I cannot move the way I once did, but I would like to have one last dance with you.”

“I would… Like that.” I stood, helping him from his seat and holding him closely as we swayed gently from one side to the other. It was hardly dancing, but with his knee it was the best either of us could do. 

His shining eyes bore down into mine, filled with regret and a still shimmgering ember of fondness. François tucked my hair behind my ear. “I forgot how magnificent you were.”

Shaking my head I disagreed. “I’m average.”

“You have never been average Lena, not for one moment.” François held my face with one hand, stroking my cheek as tears began to build in my eyes. “I think… if things had been different you would have been the love of my life.”

“You would have been mine too,” I admitted softly. “You were the only one that ever… You were too good for me.”

He chuckled. “Impossible, Précieuse.”

I chuckled, resting my head against his chest. “I missed that laugh.”

“As I missed yours.”

We danced until his knee couldn’t handle the strain any longer, left standing in each others arms… both not wanting to say goodbye but both knowing we had to. “I hope you find a new purpose, François. One that brings you the joy ballet did.”

“I hope this for you as well. Now, one last kiss before we part ways?”

All I could do was nod and let him pull me into him. His warm lips pressed gently to mine, a simple and modest kiss shared between a thirteen year old girl and the fourteen year old boy she’d fallen for. It was the perfect farewell. “Goodbye, Prince Ivan.”

He smiled, tears building in his eyes as he stroked my cheek. “Au revoir, mon précieux oiseau de feu.”

I locked the front door behind him, relieved knowing that everyone else had already gone home and that no one would see me like this. Slowly making my way to the stairs, intending to get my things and go home I found myself heaving instead. I collapsed onto the steps, holding my hand over my mouth in some miserable attempt to keep in the sobs bursting from my throat. My hands trembled as I tried to find something to ground myself… to escape this cold and mournful feeling. Then, someone cleared their throat at the top of the stairs, startling me. 

Jake leaned against the railing, holding a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other. I quickly wiped my eyes and stood up. “Sorry. I… I thought everyone went home.”

“I figured you could use a smoke,” he said softly.

With a wobbling voice, I answered, “That… sounds nice.”

He descended the stairs and sat down, waiting for me to join him on the step before he lit the cigarette and took a few puffs of the smoke before offering it to me. With slightly shaking hands, I took it, enjoying the slight burn that filled my lungs. "So it's for him, the tattoo?" Jake asked, sounding slightly on edge.

“No… Not entirely…” I sighed. "It's more of a reminder," I told him, trying to focus on anything but the pain that simmered beneath my skin.

"A reminder of what?"

"That there are worse things than dying."

Jake watched me for a moment before he took the cigarette back. “So you two were like a couple or what?”

What could I say that would tell him of the beauty and horrors of my summer romance with François? What words would be enough to capture the way it felt to be truly loved by someone only to have it all torn away? I shrugged. “He was my first love. Or at least, I like to see it that way.” I smiled, the rush of fond memories filling me with a moment of happiness. “We were dance partners back when I was still with my mom. I was thirteen, and he was fifteen. It… It wasn’t much of a relationship. I mean, we only really had one summer with each other before…” I swallowed a hard lump as that happiness was replaced with blood and screaming. "Don't leave me.”

“He doesn’t really seem like your type,” Jake noted, the steady timber of his voice gently coaxing me out of the pained memories. “No offense.”

“None taken,” I told him with a sigh. “He was beautiful, funny and fearless and… everything I wanted to be. But, François… He was the first person that thought I was more than some porcelain doll. He was the first person that actually saw me.”

I could see his head tilt to the side from the corner of my eye. “Sounds like a decent guy.”

I nodded. “He was. François was just good and so charming and… It always reminded me of Peter. That way, he just beautifully moved through the world like it was all so amazing.”

A beat passed of us exchanging the cigarette before Jake finally asked, “What happened? Between you and him.”

“I fucked it up. Like always.” Tears streamed down my cheeks as I shook my head, scoffing. “It was so stupid… thinking I could ever have something like that. Something good." I forced myself to breathe as the words just flowed. “It was all my fault. He… He lost everything he loved, all that goodness and that fearlessness, because of me.”

“That’s not true,” Jake said. “I don’t know him… or what happened… but I know you, Lena. Whatever it was, it wasn’t your fault.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head, wiping my tears away with the back of my sleeve and trying to reign in the pain. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” He gently lifted my face, turning it to meet his calm blue eyes. “What you feel matters.” With a shuddering breath, I fell into his arms, clutching onto him for dear life as he held me. “It’s okay.”

I sobbed into his skin, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping me from drowning… like by some miracle, this proximity to him would keep all the horrible dark things lurking around the corner from me. My mother wasn’t going to let this one visit be the last. Olive was on a warpath to prove I was the ungrateful child she believed me to be… to take everything I’d worked for. Tony was… My hands curled in Jake’s shirt, trying not to think about what Tony would do to him if… when he finally came out of the shadows for me. 

My voice was little more than a pathetic whimper of his name. “Jake…”

“I’ve got you,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple. “I’ve got you, Lena.”

Leave. I wanted to say… wanted to warn him. You’re selfish for keeping him here. For putting him in danger because of some childish fantasy that he could ever want you. I closed my eyes tighter, the voice in my head a mix of my own and Tony’s. “Jake…” I pushed myself away from his chest and looked into his eyes. Leave me. He watched me, gently brushing the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs as he held my face in his hands. “I…” Tell. Him. To. Go. “I’m scared…”

His eyes were unbearably soft as he nodded, jaw clenching for a second before he said, “Of what?"

Of falling back into my old habits. Of disappointing everyone I love. Of losing you. Of what is worse than dying. There were so many words I could have said, but all I could do was shrug and shake. "It just feels like something bad is going to happen, and I…" I won't survive it if he hurts you… "I can't do it again."

"Nothing bad’s gonna happen." He shook his head and sadly smiled at me. "Not while I’m here. Not while I’ve got you.”

“Jake-”

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

Breathing out a shaking breath, I let his warmth comfort me as I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

Jake’s smile eased the pain, but the way he pulled me back into him, holding me like I was important, made everything start to fade away. “Come here, princess.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as his hands rubbed soothingly down my arms. “For everything.”

“What are friends for?” He replied with a chuckle.

Friends. For the first time since I’d met him… since our flirtatious relationship had shifted to something casually sexual with lingering kisses and blowjobs and fingering the word didn’t feel like enough. It felt like a lie, one I’d been able to cling to before, but now there was a word, a feeling that sparked in my chest like a freshly lit ember. A feeling I’d have to ignore, but I knew some way, somehow, it wasn’t going to go away.

*

Howard walked home in the dark, alone. Simone had stopped asking him to join her after Tess had tried to leverage herself into a higher position by sleeping with him. An indulgence he both regretted and did not. So, in the chilled autumn air, he walked alone with his thoughts, which, as of late, had been plagued with a pebble lodged in his shoe for too long. The one with dark hair and an attitude that made him want to scream. 

Jake had always been a problem. The way he interacted with guests was childish and sloppy; one wrong word spoken was always enough to set him off into some tantrum. He’d wanted to be done with him years ago, but Simone - the thorned rose that, while brutal and a pain to deal with, brought something to the restaurant he knew he needed - had insisted. The two were a package deal, she’d said. Never one without the other. Yet, to him, it seemed they were further away from each other than they’d ever been. The young man's focus had shifted to a place Howard had been worried about since Lena Harrow walked into his office all those months ago.

Their attraction to one another was expected. The bartender was handsome and young, charismatic when he wanted to be. But what he thought would be a quick fling or nothing at all had been dragged out in some painful dance. He worried for the lively and spirited girl he’d watched blossom despite the weight placed on her delicate shoulders.

Lena was beautiful, talented, and held so much spirit. She reminded Howard of his late wife when she was younger. The two shared many traits, but… if Howard were truly honest with himself, the roles were reversed. It was his wife that reminded him of Lena. It was one of the reasons he’d married her. He loved her with all he had, but those urges… the undeniable attraction he’d harbored for the would-be Glover as she worked tirelessly by her aunt's side had always been there.

A red and white car parked outside his house made him pause, and a wave of unease made his gut tighten as he cautiously approached his front door, only to find it ajar. Howard breathed in and entered, unwilling to be bullied from his own home. “Hello?”

“Howard.” The sound of liquor swishing in one of his crystal glasses echoed as expensive cigar smoke stung his nose. “I let myself in. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He walked forward, ignoring the larger men in the room with them. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Anthony?”

“You remember a favor I once did for you?” The young, well-dressed man asked with a sparkling grin that never reached his dead eyes. “Well, it’s time to pay up.”

The sounds from his TV made Howard’s gut drop. Shame and guilt and something darker warring within him. “What do you want?”

Anthony laughed, deranged and dangerous. “Come now, Howard. Let’s not pretend you don’t already know.”

“I can’t…”

He held up a single finger. “Don’t. Don’t say another fucking word.”

“Anthony…”

“Debts must be paid. You can either pay it in action or in flesh.” The men standing in the room closed in, towering over the simple manager with… questionable morals. The TV grew louder, and Howard’s heart hammered in his chest as Tony rose from his couch and walked toward him with a blade gleaming in the light. “Which will it be, Howard?"

"I-"

"Action or flesh?"

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake x lena #jake x lena #sweetbitter lena #jake and lena #lena harrow #tom sturridge jake #tom sturridge fanfiction #tom sturridge #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter santos #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter tess #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter will #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter oc #sweetbitter peter #sweetbitter patrick #sweetbitter quinn

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 9 | Chapter 11

Chapter 10: The Idiots

TW: Jake's kind of an asshole at the beginning of this, more Howard ick, a bit of jealous Lena, a bit of jealous Jake, one very heated make-out session (lots of biting and lipstick stains 👀), sassy Sasha, Simone's a bitch (as usual), Jake's making progress with his shitty coping mechanisms this chapter, a nice calm ending before the spice storm.

Quinn stared at me as she sat on my bed, her eyes wide and mouth curled into a giant smile. “Say it again!”

“Jake kissed me.” I was breathless, clutching onto the giant tiger and awkwardly standing in my bedroom. Every inch of me tingled with an odd sense of numbness… One produced from my absolute shock and complete realization of just how fucked I was.

Prue was still squealing from the living room as she rushed to make snacks so I could tell them all the details with something for them to munch on. Then, finally, Quinn fell back onto my bed. “God, I’m fucking amazing!”

“Jake kissed me,” I muttered again, the numbness wearing off, and the crushing anxiety of what had happened hit me. I dropped the tiger to the floor and cupped my cheeks in my slightly chilled hands. “Oh my god, I kissed him back!” 

“I’d hope so!” Quinn replied, looking me over. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” I answered. “No! I mean…” With a deep sigh, I looked at the tiger at my feet. “Yes, but it’s just so…” Complicated.

I remembered little about the drive back into the city, mainly the distance between Jake and me. He’d left with the rest of the group without speaking to me. I hadn’t heard from him since, not a reply to my goodnight text. Then, Quinn began apologizing for the limo digging up bad memories.

My heart hadn’t stopped hammering since the kiss, since the look we shared after. Nothing would be the same as it was before, and it terrified me. But, of course, I was used to bad-boy bartenders and their reputations among women, so hearing about Jake’s salacious history within and outside the restaurant wasn’t shocking. I didn’t hold it against him; I’d done the exact thing plenty of times. But it did make this particular situation difficult.

If I’d just been interested in the sex, then all this would have been so easy! But it wasn’t about that, not now that I knew Jake. I wanted him in every filthy and carnal way… But I wanted to be with him just as badly. The pull between us was electric and wild, the perfect storm for sex, but what happened after the deed was done? What happened when Jake finally conquered the feisty redhead that had been shutting down his advances from day one?

“I can’t sleep with him,” I whispered, fear nearly erasing the elated feeling in my chest. 

Quinn groaned. “Oh, come on! This has been months in the making, Lena! Why can’t you just-”

“Because he’s going to move on, Quinn!” I shouted. “He’s gonna get what he wants and move on to the next girl. And I…”

My friend’s face softened as she pulled me into a hug. “Jake likes you, Lena. I know he does.”

Simone’s words filled my head, and the so sure smug look on her face taunted me. “I don’t want to lose him… I can’t…”

“It’s okay,” she assured me. “It’s gonna be okay because he is heading over heels for you. He doesn’t just want to fuck you. He wants you.”

“How do you know?” I asked quietly.

Quinn smudged my cheeks and smiled. “Just… Trust me. Okay?”

“Okay…” She wouldn’t stand here and give me false hope for no reason. Quinn must’ve known something I didn’t, or that look in her eyes and the way she sounded so sure wouldn’t have eased my fear.

Prue jumped into the bed, nearly spilling the popcorn she had cooked all over it. Then, with a bright smile, she signed, “Start from the beginning!”

With Quinn’s hand in mine, the anxious fear slowly faded, and a hopeful, maybe idiotic joy took over as I told my friends every detail about the kiss I’d shared with my coworker, Jake… the boy I liked.

*

Jake kept as much distance as he could between himself and Lena until he finally got a chance to leave. He went home where no one could see how visibly shaken he was. This is ridiculous, he scolded himself. How many women had he kissed before tonight? Hundreds! He wasn’t some virgin, nor was he inexperienced in workplace affairs. But this felt different… All of it.

Kissing her had been impulsive, but after hearing her admit that she’d wanted him to do it during that dumb game, how could he not? He’d almost done it then… He almost couldn’t stop himself from kissing her there in front of their coworkers and her friends. Jake had waited, thinking it wasn’t what she wanted… But it was. Lena wanted him to kiss her, and he couldn’t deny that he wanted to kiss her too, had for a long time.

That kiss… It was better than he expected. Even the thought of it lingering in his mind made him feel heavy with lust and the purely sinful desire to show up at Lena’s door and kiss her. He was heavy with the want to kiss her until they both grew tired of it, which Jake was convinced would be never. Not for him, at least. As he lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, watching the lights from his windows flash on it, all he could see was her face. Her perfume lingered on his jacket, swarming around him in a cocoon of cherry, making it hard for him not to imagine her here, lying in his bed… doing much more than sharing one little kiss.

Lust was a feeling he was used to, but there was something more significant that absolutely terrified him. He liked Lena. He liked her personality, fun, feisty, and kind. He liked how she thought, how insanely smart and equally badass she was. Jake liked how she laughed, scrunched up her nose, and smiled so wide it looked like her face hurt afterward. Lena was so much more than just another back waiter; she was a person… was someone he cared about, and that wasn’t something he had expected.

He had his fair share of relationships, but those were short affairs. Simone had told him he wasn’t cut out for long-term things. She’d told him more than once he didn’t have the depth to take something as important as a relationship seriously. Simone also contributed some of the blame onto the women he’d chosen to pursue. All young and naive, without a clue as to how to handle him in any capacity. “They’ll never know you like I know you,” she’d say. “How did you expect this to end, Jake? It wasn’t going to work out, not when you can’t be bothered to hold anything sacred.” Simone was right - she always was. He didn’t have the capacity to love anything but her, and that was only because Simone put up with his selfish bullshit when most people would’ve left a long time ago. 

Lena wasn’t like most of the women he pursued. She wasn’t naive or too young. Instead, she matched him well, burning like a steady flame that made him want to follow her into utter darkness. The past few months being showered in her friendship and included in her tight-knit group of friends, family, and weird drug dealers had made Jake feel more alive and accepted than he’d ever felt. And, on top of all of that, Lena knew more about him than anyone, save Simone, did. She’d helped him without judgment after he stumbled to her drunk, high, and blubbering about his dead mom. She’d taken care of him without asking anything in return, and then she’d let him follow her around all day. He knew her too, he realized. He’d witnessed her at her lowest point and pulled her out of the freezing ocean. 

What he had with Lena differed from what he had with everyone else. The only relationship he could compare it to was the one he shared with Simone, but even that felt wrong… Even that wasn’t the same. Simone’s love was cold and filled with constant nagging, judgments, and hiding. They switched between lovers and siblings and a mother and son. Lena’s lov - friendship was warm, accepting, and full of fun and support. They’d agreed on being friends, but… That leap to lovers, that pull between them shouting that this was more, had always been there. They were so different, yet he could feel that pull tethering him to the redheaded woman just as he’d been tethered to Simone. It scared him, but what scared him more was the all too real possibility that he’d just fucked everything up tonight by kissing her. 

He wasn’t prepared to face her again, possibly have her reject him or abandon him completely. And so, lying in his bed, Jake looked at the small green frog and resigned himself to following the same plan he always did. He’d ignore her, brush her off, and put distance between them to lessen the ultimate blow of her departure from his life. He stared at the screen of his phone, at the simple goodnight she’d sent him, for a long moment before he rolled over, leaving it behind him.

That night Jake mourned a loss that hadn’t even happened yet because that was easier than hoping for more. It was easier to accept he wasn’t capable of love or being loved, especially by someone like her.

*

Quinn and Prue left after breakfast, knowing I had to swing by Ozzy’s to help Patrick move inventory before I headed to work. Even just the thought made my body tingle. I’d spent hours freaking out over what-ifs until I’d decided to just give in to Quinn’s advice and face the music head-on. Jake was still going to be Jake. Sarcastic, flirty, and every bit the bad boy bartender I’d been friends with for months.

I’d showered and tossed on a simple T-shirt scouring for pants and unintentionally reminding myself of his shitty marker tattoo that he’d quickly scribbled on my skin. The longer I looked at it, the more I liked it. The mermaid almost perfectly held the heart with the little J in her hands. I smoothed my finger over it, reassuringly that he wouldn’t have drawn something so intimate for nothing.

The slightly on-edge walk to The Ring wasn’t at all helpful in calming my buzzing nerves. Peter sat behind the front counter, a cat curled up on his lap as he read his book. Lifting his head, he offered me a lazy smile. “Pat’s changing. How was Quinn’s party last night?”

“It was good,” I answered. “Dinner, drinks, coney island. Quinn stuff.”

He took one look at my face and smirked. “Kiss any cute boys while you were busy with Quinn’s stuff?”

I scoffed, shifting on my feet. “Quinn told you?”

“Nah, I just know you better than anyone. It’s written all over your face.” He closed his book and sat up, carefully keeping the cat comfortable. “So, was it everything you’d been fantasizing about?”

“You don’t even know who I kissed.”

“Pleeaasseee!” He laughed. “Ignoring the blatantly obvious sex dream, I’ve seen you and Jake in a room together, little sis. That tension was bound to snap back at some point.”

Damn him. “It was…” For a second, I considered brushing it off with a simple fine, but Peter would see straight through that. “It was perfect.”

With a smile and a nod, he relaxed. “Good. I’m assuming he was a perfect gentleman about it.”

“Don’t know yet. We didn’t get a chance to talk about it after.

“Well,” he started. “If he’s an ass, just give me a call, and Pat and I will give him a stern talking to.”

“I hardly need you two for that.”

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, but it’d be fun.”

I shook my head, chuckling at my brother’s antics. “You shouldn’t think threatening boys I like is fun.”

“Oh, so he’s a boy you like now?” His smile widened. “Bout damn time. We were all getting tired of playing along with your dumb little game.”

“Shut up.”

Patrick barreled down the stairs, quickly moving through the gym toward the back with a breathless nod. “We gotta hurry. Oz is on his way!”

“Shit!” I hissed, jogging to join him. 

The bar deliveries always dropped things off at the very front of the bar, next to the front door. If it hadn’t been for Dom and his gang frequenting the place, we were reasonably sure it’d get stolen every week, but lucky for us, having a badass biker gang like you has its perks. Patrick dragged the boxes to the back, where I quickly opened them and started shoving things in their rightful places. We’d gotten almost all of them unpacked before Ozzy’s voice boomed through the bar. “Oi! What the hell are you two doin’ here so damn early?”

Patrick and I peeked our heads up from the other side of the bar. “It was all her idea, Oz!”

“Like hell it was you copperhead moron!” I shouted back, slapping his shoulder. 

“She’s been on my ass for weeks about helpin’ you out,” Patrick continued.

My mouth fell open. “Oh, yeah, well, Patrick’s been calling me every morning to talk about sneaking vitamins into your food!”

Ozzy held up his hands, waving them between us until we grew quiet. “Good lord,” he huffed. “You two are worse than your father! Always sneakin’ around tryin’ to do more work than me.”

“Oz,” I started. 

“Shut it,” he ordered lovingly. “I appreciate your concerns and your help. I ain’t as young as I used to be, and having you two idiots around to help pick up some of the slack ain’t too bad.”

Patrick looked at me with a thin smile. “So you’re gonna let us help out?”

“Hell no,” Ozzy replied with a deep laugh as he ushered us out the door with a wink. “Now get the hell out and worry about your own damn problems!”

“Stubborn ass,” I sighed.

“I heard that!”

Patrick shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, guess we’re gonna have to double down on the efforts.”

“He’s not gonna make this easy,” I warned. “We’ll probably have to switch to end-of-the-day stuff to fly under the radar for a while.”

“Smart,” he replied. “So, how was your kiss at coney island?”

I scoffed at him. “Unbelievable. Is it really that easy to tell?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Quinn told me. She was at Nana’s this morning when Oz left to head down here, so she gave me a heads-up and clued me in on your little Ferris Wheel makeout session.”

“You guys are so fucking annoying,” I complained, checking the time as we returned to the gym. “I gotta head out. Have a good day,” I hollered, giving Peter a quick pat as I rushed out the door.

The whole walk to 22West consisted of me doing my best not to freak out over seeing Jake again after our kiss. It was a kiss. One. And yeah, we both obviously liked it, but it shouldn’t change anything between us. He was my friend. Surely he knew that. 

I wove around the kitchen and went up the stairs to the locker room, where Jake stood, quietly buttoning up his shirt. My heart raged within my chest as I swallowed my anxiety and walked into the room, opening my locker and frowning slightly. Usually, he’d try sneaking his jacket into my locker, but there it was, empty, save for my bag of extra clothes at the bottom. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“Hey,” I greeted, turning to look at him. Jake barely glanced back at me before he closed his locker and silently made his way out of the room. With a silent huff of air, I shook my head. “How was your night?” I asked myself, bitter frustration making my voice waver. “Oh, it was fine. Thanks so much for asking. Hey, we should probably talk about that kiss.” I shook my head, letting it fall onto the lockers beside mine. “Goddamn it.”

Isaac slid into the room, glancing between the stairs and me. “Everything okay?”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think it is.”

“Anything I can do?” He asked, quietly setting his hand on my back.

“No,” I answered, looking at him with a forced smile. “Thanks, though.”

He bumped my shoulder. “Anytime, Red.”

Service felt slower than usual today. Scott put me in charge of plating, instructing me not to let a single dish go out without looking perfect. So I stood at the little metal table separating me from the servers and the dining room beyond, carefully wiping plates and handing them off to the servers. It was a slightly tedious task that required a lot of attention to detail. Still, I was good at it, having been shown exactly how each dish should look by the awry bitch that made the menu. Simone seemed happier than usual as well. She offered me soft, smug smiles whenever she picked up her dishes.

“Lena,” Howard called into the kitchen as he came sweeping in through the doors. “I need you to help run tables tonight.”

I quickly stripped myself of my apron and shrugged off my cooking coat. “Something going on?”

He smiled tightly. “It seems we’ve had another slight scheduling mishap.”

“How bad?”

“Nothing too horrible,” he assured me. “But I’d feel much better with your capable hands on the floor.”

I smiled. “You got it, boss.”

He set a hand on my arm, looking down at me for a moment. “Be careful not to fall.”

Rolling my eyes, I squeezed his hand and hurried out the doors with plates of food balanced perfectly on my arms. The dining room was full, packed with people who looked slightly put off by the slow service. I hurried through the chaos and did the job perfectly, only stopping to strip some of the tables on the second floor once the guests had left.

From the second floor, I could see Simone slide up to the bar with that fucking smile. She and Jake conversed for a moment, not unusual for them, but after receiving his cold shoulder in the locker room, the sight of him smiling at her and chuckling at whatever she’d said made my blood boil. The blonde woman vanished into the kitchen, mumbling about finding a specific bottle of wine for one of her tables when the front door opened and a woman quietly made her way to the bar.

*

“Hey, Jake,” he hadn’t expected to hear the soft voice again as he looked up to find Tess standing in front of the bar, picking at her fingers nervously.

He didn’t know what to say or do, not after how they’d left things and all she’d put him and Simone through. His teeth ground painfully together. “What are you doing here?”

That smile he once found cute and comforting fell. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”

“And I think I’ve made it clear I don’t wanna talk.”

“Jake,” she huffed. “Just give me five minutes, please?”

No. He wanted to say the word more than anything, but something inside him… something he’d pushed so far down he thought it would never come back to the surface urged him to say yes. With a stiff nod, he dropped what he was doing, snapping his fingers at the first person that walked by toward the kitchen. Lena. Of course, it had to fucking be her. Her green eyes met his, and he felt like he was about to fall apart at the forced look of boredom they held, mirroring how she’d looked at him before they’d become friends. “Cover me for a minute.”

She glanced at Tess but slid behind the bar anyway, jumping into work beside Nicky with ease as he practically dragged Tess out of the restaurant to spare Simone the pain of seeing her again. “What do you want?”

“I want to apologize,” she answered. “I’ve wanted to for a while now.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he replied coldly. “You did what you did and lost your job here for it.”

“Do you get why I did it, though?” she asked, big brown eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

Jake shook his head. “No, I don’t, and I don’t give a shit.”

“I did it because I care about you, Jake,” she insisted.

“Care about me?” he laughed dryly. “You went behind my back, you fucked Howard, and you tried to get Simone fired!”

Tess’s lips pulled into a thin line. “I know how it sounds… I didn’t really know what the fuck I was doing, but-”

“You were doing what you wanted,” he told her, unimpressed. “That’s fine, do whatever you want; just don’t expect a pity party to roll into town when shit catches up to you.”

“Just…” she sighed. “Meet me at Home Bar tonight? I want to talk… want to explain things to you, so you understand why I did it.”

He shook his head. “I. Don’t. Care.”

“Yes, you do. You’ve always cared, Jake. Please, just… come?”

“Fine.”

She let out a breath of relief. “Thank-”

Jake turned on his heel and walked back inside the restaurant, ignoring the newly dug-up pain that Tess’ unexpected visit brought up within him. For a moment, he took relief in seeing Lena behind the bar with Nicky, but then he remembered the kiss and the cold shoulder he gave her to avoid the inevitable. Her green eyes met his as he slid back behind the bar. 

“You can go,” he said, so tense he almost couldn’t get the words out.

“Are you okay?”

Fucking… Why did she have to care? “I’m fine. Go back to the kitchen.”

“That how it’s gonna be?” She asked, forcing eye contact with him. Forcing him to see the plain hurt and anger that stared back at him.

“Get back to work.”

In an instant, she closed herself off, bored disinterest retaking her face and shining back in her eyes as she shrugged past him. “Alright then.”

Jake closed his eyes, trying to ignore how brushing her off brought a sting to his chest. He couldn’t do this. “Fuck.”

*

“Who is she?” I asked Nicky, nodding to the window where the girl and Jake stood.

“Tess,” Nicky answered, not even looking. “She was a back waiter a few months before you got hired.”

“I’m assuming they were close, judging by the particularly grumpy pout he’s sporting.”

“All I know is that they got together, and shortly after, she… got close… with Howard, tried to get Simone fired, and basically burned all bridges with him.”

“Shit,” I breathed out, serving a drink. “Sounds complicated.”

Nicky nodded. “Tell me about it.”

Concern filled my lungs as Jake stormed back into the restaurant, quickly returning behind the bar. “You can go,” he said, almost through his teeth.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go back to the kitchen.”

I scoffed, looking up at him with an angry, quirked brow. “That how it’s gonna be?”

“Get back to work.”

“Alright then.” I brushed past him and went back to work. If Jake wanted to play this game, he’d do it alone.

Service continued to rage, but now I could feel the familiar weight of Jake’s eyes following me every time I entered the dining room. What the fuck is his problem? I thought to myself, rapidly clearing another table. It was one fucking kiss. One good kiss… It… I shook my head. It doesn’t matter. The whole thing was stupid. I ignored the disappointment and the feeling of my fears being confirmed in favor of getting through the night with my head held high. Jake wasn’t the first dumb pretty boy to brush me off, and I refused to let him get any satisfaction from seeing me crumble.

I helped the kitchen close down, staying to wash dishes beside Santos and Isaac until it appeared that I was the only one left that hadn’t gotten changed. So I headed up to the locker room, that painful pang striking me directly in the chest when it was just Jake and I left alone once again. I changed quickly, not caring if he was going to turn around and peek, too afraid that if I snuck off to the bathroom, I’d miss an attempt of his to reach out and talk to me. 

When that didn’t happen after I finished putting my pants on, I looked at the back of his head, watching and waiting for him to do anything but stand there and ignore me. He was already dressed, save his jacket, but still, he just stood there in front of his locker, refusing to look at me. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, I moved. Fuck this. I slammed his locker shut and glared up at him. “Are you seriously gonna pull this shit?”

“What?” he demanded.

“You’ve been avoiding me all day, and every time I’ve tried to talk to you, you’ve been an ass.” I shook my head. “You kissed me last night. I kissed you back. It’s not that big of a deal. It certainly doesn’t change things and give you the right to be a stuck-up asshole to me.”

Jake’s eyes sparked with something as he turned to look down at me. “It doesn’t?”

I swallowed the urge to kiss his stupid lips. “No, it doesn’t. We’re still friends.”

“Most friends don’t kiss,” he replied, head leaning down ever so slightly. “So, did it change things, or didn’t it?”

“It didn’t change anything,” I hissed angrily.

He smirked. “Well then, when you want another kiss, I’m gonna make you ask me for it.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned away from him. “Good luck with that asshole.”

Storming back down the stairs and out the kitchen doors, I settled into a seat furthest from the bar and closest to the door, waiting to see who was coming to Ozzy’s. But when Prue walked through the door, I knew my plans to run home and hide my disappointed, frustrated anger among my friends, and the bar I knew like the back of my hand, was out the window. Instead, she turned and saw me, quickly sitting across from me to sign. “Hi! How’s your day been?”

“Shit,” I answered. 

She looked closer at my face, her brows furrowing. “What happened?”

I nodded to the bar. “Apparently, we’re sixteen-year-olds that can’t have a simple discussion about one dumb kiss without the whole world imploding.” I shook my head. “He’s been an ass all day.”

“Fucking idiot,” Prue replied. “Well, you wanna come with Will and me to the bar they frequent?”

“Not particularly.”

“Please,” she begged. “Apparently, Will’s ex is going to be there tonight, and he wants me to come for support. Buuttt we both know how…” Pausing, she searched for the word.

“Insane,” I offered. “Violent. Crazy. Unhinged.”

Rolling her eyes, she reluctantly nodded. “Yes to all.” She smiled back at Will, who’d just returned from the manager’s office. “You know how I get around people like that. Please come and keep me from jumping this bitch?”

Sparing one last look at the bar and the annoying bartender that just slipped back through the kitchen doors to leave, I sighed and nodded. “Okay. I’ll come.”

“Thank you! Go home and change for a night out! We’ll meet you there.”

I followed Prue’s advice, heading home to change into a simple long-sleeved black dress. It was simple but made my boobs look amazing. It was totally coincidental and not a deliberate precaution I’d taken in case Jake was there. Dressed and ready, I headed out, using my annoyance with Jake to keep the twinge of fear that every loud car and dark silhouette brought me.

They were waiting outside for me, huddled up together like two adorable little birds. Prue’s eyes lit up as she saw me, while Will’s lit up at the sight of her beaming smile and joyful face. “You two are adorable,” I said and signed. “This the shit hole, then?”

Will nodded. “Yep. Home Bar. We used to come here every night, but after you joined the group and introduced us to Jack and Ozzy’s, it’s gotten a bit neglected by us.”

“That’s because my bar’s better,” I teased, following them through the door.

Home Bar was filled with the sounds of a hundred conversations happening at once, accompanied by the loud clack of pool balls striking against one another. It was slightly smaller, with only a few booths and tables to hang around. However, the bar was large and clearly, the focal point as the woman behind it happily mixed drinks and served them to the surrounding crowd. With a tight hand in hers, Will led Prue through the space, and as we neared the back of the room, I saw them. 

My coworker’s loudness fit in here, almost causing them to blend into the crowd, but I’d know the feeling of Jake’s eyes anywhere. He sat on the end, likely so he would have access to leave whenever he wanted, with the girl from earlier sitting beside him and Olive sitting at a chair she’d pulled up to the table just so she could be near him. I rolled my eyes and tapped Prue’s shoulder. “So, who’s the ex?”

She nodded to the table, to the brown-haired girl. “That’s her. Tess.”

“Shit,” I sighed, drawing her curiosity. “Apparently, she’s Jake’s ex too.”

Prue’s mouth fell open. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”

“I think we might be.”

“Well, at least Quinn isn’t here to encourage us.”

We sat in the booth, forcing everyone to smush together, aka Tess and Jake, with Olive leaning entirely into Jake’s free side. I bit the inside of my cheek and forced myself to breathe out the angry, bitter jealousy that burned my lungs. I didn’t have any right to be angry or jealous. Jake wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t his.

Sasha smiled at me. “Tiger Bitch! It’s so nice of you to join us here for a change!”

I shrugged. “It’s not so bad here. But I’ve gotta say my bar’s still better.”

“I have to agree,” Ari replied with a smile. “The girls there are cute.”

My eyes met Tess’s as she looked me up and down with a smile before she reached over and offered her hand. “I’m Tess.”

Prue was the one to shake her hand with a wide toothy grin. She pulled back and signed. “I’m Prue. Will’s girlfriend.” She looked over at me. “Will you translate?”

“Of course.” I looked back at Tess while keeping Prue’s hands in view. “She says: I’m Prue. Will’s girlfriend.”

Tess nodded. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Wish I could say the same.”

“She says: Wish I could say the same.” I shook my head and watched Will hide his smile.

With an uncomfortable laugh, Tess nodded. “Guess she’s heard about me, huh?”

I nodded. “Seems so.”

“Who are you?” She asked, looking at me.

“Lena,” I answered. “I started working at 22West a while ago.”

She looked sad for a minute. “That’s good. It’s a special place.”

A special place. I wanted to laugh at her but remembered when I’d once thought the same thing. “It’s just a restaurant.”

Sasha rolled his eyes. “Her auntie is Maddie Glover. She was used to the place long before us, Baby Monster.”

“Your aunt…” she paused, eyes growing even wider. “That means your Jennifer Glover’s daughter!”

Every inch of me tensed at my mother’s name. “Yep.”

Tess smiled, shaking her head in disbelief. “She’s the most sought-after ballet trainers in the world! That’s amazing! You must be really talented not just in the restaurant but in ballet.”

The crack of the stick against my leg stung, but I refused to cry. “Straighten your leg, Lena! For god’s sake, did you not practice at all?!”

“I practiced all night,” I answered, tired and stiff. 

I could feel the blood ooze between my toes as my mother shook her head at me with another crack of the stick against my hip. “Again.”

Prue’s hand squeezed mine, slowly easing me out of my head to answer. “Not really.”

Jake’s eyes were on me, and he looked like he cared for the first time all day. Tess sensed the tension but didn’t shut up about ballet for the next hour until Olive became even more apparent with her infatuation with Jake. She set her hand on his leg, whispering something to him with a giggle. I was shocked when he didn’t immediately pull away from her and give her the look of disinterest he always did. Still, when his eyes flashed to mine, smug and full of himself, I realized what he was doing. With a shake of my head, I rose from the table. “I’m gonna get a drink.”

If he wanted to play this game, then I’d play, and I’d make him fucking regret it.

*

Jake hadn’t expected Olive to be at Home Bar tonight, but for once, he was actually glad she was. She wanted to fuck him still, even after his harsh words at his apartment when she’d shown up with Simone. And he couldn’t think of any better way to rile Lena up than by entertaining the moon-eyed girl. But, of course, he hadn’t expected Tess to get jealous. So there he sat, crowded between the two dark-haired girls as they fawned over his arms and hair and desperately tried to catch and keep his attention.

It was a perfect plan that worked far better than he’d expected. Except for one fact. Lena. She’d gotten up to get a drink and stayed at the bar, just within earshot. So Jake only had a view of her back and the face of the new man who had saddled beside her, offering her another drink. It’d been thirty minutes of men coming and going from her side, all eventually returning with a new glass and compliment and crowding around her like moths to a flame. She flirted back, drinking slowly and shifting her hair over her shoulder to further expose the deep cut of her dress and the silky skin of her neck.

He watched her giggle at their stupid jokes and squeeze their arms as she laughed with a tight jaw. Every time she happened to glance over her shoulder at the table, he’d lean over to whisper in Tess’s ear or tuck Olive’s hair out of her eyes, hoping those small acts would be enough to make her break, but they weren’t.

Lena was pissed off at him, so she was out for blood. She wasn’t going to break. So Jake did. He slid out of the booth and shrugged off his jacket, setting it on the table in front of Olive’s chair before he made his way toward the bar with only one goal in sight. Her.

*

Jake slid in between the man at the bar and me, his dark eyes staring down at me for a minute before he leaned in and whispered, “Excuse yourself to the bathroom.”

“What?” I asked sweetly, making that burn of jealousy in his eyes glow as he shook his head and gently took my hand to lead me from the bar toward the bathrooms. 

Once he shoved the door open and quickly shut it behind us, he turned to me, leaning back against it with a simple tilt. “What are you doing?”

I shrugged, tucking a loose strand of my hair back. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, please.” He chuckled. “You’ve been batting your eyelashes at every guy you pass and rubbing their arms and playing with their hair like you’re some doe-eyed dream girl looking to fuck one of them.”

“And you’re not doing the exact same thing?” I retorted. “Or do you just brush every girl’s hair out of her eyes and lean in to whisper in their ears?”

His smirk was unbearable as he said. “I thought that kiss meant nothing.”

“Stop pretending like you’re not fucking heated seeing every guy in this shit hole fawn over me,” I scoffed at him, taking a step forward. “I have eyes.”

Jake smirked wider, eyebrows rising as he matched my bold step forward. “I’ve got eyes too, princess, and you’re just as fucking jealous of Tess and Olive.”

“I don’t have any reason to be jealous of your two little groupies,” I insisted.

“Cause you think you could have me whenever you wanted me, I know,” he nodded, encouragement filling his voice as he whispered, “Ask then.”

My chest heaved as my heart raced beneath my skin. “What?”

He closed the space between us, backing me against the sink. “Oh, come on, princess, you were so confident just a second ago. Say it.” His eyes were dark, black against the shitty dim lights of the bathroom. “Say it, or I will.”

“Kiss me again.” I barely had time to get the words out before Jake followed the desperate command behind them.

His head ducked down the rest of the way, lips pressing to mine. My body molded to his, arching up into him as his hands took hold of my hips and pushed me back into the cold, stained porcelain of the sink. When his teeth tugged on my bottom lip, my mouth fell open with a sharp gasp that had him smirking. I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him back down for another dizzying kiss, stroking my tongue along his to taste the remnants of his drink.

Tugging at his hair, Jake groaned into my mouth, the deep sound vibrating right down to my core. I pulled away, gasping for air as his hands pulled at the sleeves of my top, lips, and tongue trailing down my neck until his teeth wrapped around my collarbone. I saw the bathroom door open from the corner of my eye and watched Olive’s eyes grow even larger. 

We stared at one another for a moment. The pure rush of satisfaction her deflated face brought me mingled with the pleasure of Jake’s lips. I held her eyes, pulling Jake’s head up. I glanced briefly at his gorgeous eyes and slightly puffy lips before I tucked my head into his neck and wrapped my teeth around the skin beneath his ear. A deep, possessive part of me took over, nipping and sucking until a dark mark stood out against his skin. I kissed his jaw until Jake’s entire right side was covered in bite marks and the light tint of my lipstick. 

He brought his hands up to my face, cradling it for a moment before he pulled my hair free of the small clip and crashed his mouth against mine. I didn’t care if Olive was still watching. I didn’t care about anything but his lips on mine. His hands caressed and squeezed my flesh as he pulled away again to return his attention to my neck and the top of my half-covered breasts.

My head tipped back, hands fisting in Jake’s hair and clothes as a soft moan of his name slid past my lips, “Jake.”

“God, Lena,” he groaned.

“Oh. My. God.” A voice said from the doorway, pulling Jake and me away from one another to look. Sasha sauntered in, a broad smile on his face as he looked at both of our disheveled states. “Thank the white baby Jesus! I was worried you two would drag this out and cost me a hundred dollars!”

“Get the fuck out, Sahsa!” Jake growled, positioning his body in front of mine, reminding me of the compromising state of my top. I tugged my sleeves back up and ensured my breasts were covered again before gently pushing against Jake. 

His jaw ticked as he let me slide by to slap Sasha’s arms, yelling at him in Russian as I ushered him out the door and closed it with a sigh. “So… uh…”

“That was…” We started at the same time. Jake leaned back against the sink, looking at me for a long minute before he spoke again, “I’m sorry for today. I was an ass.”

“Yeah, you were,” I answered. “Are… are we okay now, though?”

The look in his eyes said no… it said there was still so much between us that was left unsaid that he couldn’t tell me for sure if we could go back to being “just friends,” but Jake nodded. “We’re okay.”

I looked down at my feet and sighed. “You were right. That kiss, and the one we just got caught up in… it does change things. I don’t… I don’t know in what way yet, but I don’t want it to cost me our friendship.”

“It won’t,” he assured me. “It was a good kiss.”

“Which one?” I asked, quirking a brow.

Jake smiled. “Both. I’d invite you back to my place, but I have a feeling I know what your answer would be.”

I bit my lip. You don’t, I wanted to say, knowing full well if Jake asked me to come home with him… if he kissed me again, I wouldn’t be able to say no. I wouldn’t want to say no. “Not tonight.”

“Not tonight?” He asked with a tilt of his head. He straightened up and moved closer, pressing me slightly back against the door as he looked down at me with a smirk, tugging on a loose curl before tucking it behind my ear. “That your way of saying I’ve got a shot?”

My eyes drank in his disheveled hair, the light tint of my lip marks against his neck, and the dark hickey I’d left beneath his ear. Then, finally, I shrugged as I reached up to wipe some lipstick off his jaw. “You might want to clean yourself up.”

He nodded. “I doubt it’ll help now that Sasha’s seen us.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled.

“You headed out?”

“Yep. It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.”

Jake glanced at my lips briefly before he leaned back and said, “Goodnight, Lena.”

I smiled up at him, slowly stepping away to open the door. “Goodnight, Jake.”

I returned to the table where everyone sat, now all whispering about the juicy gossip Sasha had just told them. Prue looked up at me with a smile. “Heading out?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “I’ve gotta get some sleep.”

“Sweet dreams,” she replied, signing almost too quick for me to catch the, “About Jake,” she added at the end.

I shook my head, leaning on the table slightly to say goodbye to Will. There beneath my hand was the smooth leather of Jake’s jacket. With a sly grin, I slipped it off the table and shoved my arms through it. Tess glared at me from her seat across the table. “That’s Jake’s jacket.”

“Is it?” I asked with a knowing smile as I turned, catching Jake’s eyes as he emerged from the bathroom and giving him a smug wink before heading out the door and into the slightly chilled night.

*

The next day at work was a pleasant surprise. Nicky had the day off - an occurrence that happened absolutely never - which put me behind the bar with Jake. After the family meal, we migrated to the bar together, laughing at some stupid joke one of us had told. He settled into his usual spot, slicing one of the garnishes. “Alright, since you’re so new to this, I’ll give you a few pointers.”

I smirked over my shoulder as I finished stacking the clean glasses. “Oh, please! I can’t believe I’m finally getting the chance to be beneath the master bartender!”

“You coulda been beneath me at any point,” he teased. “Still can, just say the word.”

“Are you going to flirt with me, or are you going to teach me your special tricks?”

Jake bit his lip, letting his eyes wander. “I’m sure I can do both.”

I shook my head at him, finishing my job and sliding beside him, just a hair too close. “Well, come on then, teach me something.”

With a breathy laugh, he positioned me in front of him, carefully running through the steps of a signature drink Howard wanted us to recommend to the guests tonight. His lips skimmed the shell of my ear as his hands dragged up and down my arms, occasionally moving to grip my hips and manhandle me to one side or the other. I was lucky I already knew the cocktail, or I would’ve had to suffer the embarrassment of asking him to explain it to me again.

“Jake,” Howard said, bringing us out of our bubble of flirting to look up at the man. “My office, please.”

I looked up at him with a quizzical look. “Are you in trouble?”

He shrugged, moving to follow behind the angry-looking manager. “Probably.”

*

“Please, sit,” Howard offered as he settled in his chair.

Jake clasped his hands behind his back and stood up straighter. “I’ll stand.”

Howard gave him a displeased look like he always did when Jake refused to comply with even the simplest request. “Do you recall I changed some of the restaurant’s policies a few months ago?” He didn’t answer. “Implemented a new rule about employees disclosing romantic relationships to management?”

“Oh, I remember,” Jake assured the little manager. “There’s nothing to disclose.”

Howard sighed, his thumbs tapping against the wood of his desk in an offbeat rhythm. If Jake had been paying attention, he would have been annoyed by the inconsistencies of it, but he wasn’t. This was just another one of Howard’s sad displays of power. “She’s not like everyone else, you know.”

“What?”

“Lena,” Howard said. That got his attention. Jake could feel every inch of him tighten with repressed rage at the man’s implication that he knew her better than Jake did. “She’s not like all the other back waiters or hostesses you’ve run through over the years.”

With a slight tilt of his head, Jake asked, “What makes you say that?”

Jake saw Howard’s resolve crumble for the first time in a long time. “I say that because she is one of the most talented, determined, and pure souls to have ever worked here. She has done nothing but add to this restaurant, and I will not have you and your… habits… drag her down.”

“You think I’d drag her down?” Jake chuckled. 

“You do it with everyone else,” Howard deadpanned. “Just look at Simone after all the years she’s had to spend carrying you.”

Jake’s jaw clenched, as did his hands. “Like I said, there’s nothing to disclose.”

Howard nodded. “Good. Get back to work.”

When Jake left, quickly making his way back to the bar and the redhead waiting for him with wide, almost nervous eyes, he decided even further to pursue Lena, mostly because the two of them clearly worked together as friends with this odd twist, but now also because Howard of all people tried to tell him not to. “Everything okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, he just wanted to remind me to help you keep up tonight.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed, returning to her task. “If anything, I should’ve been the one I pulled aside then.”

Jake let the comment side off him despite how it made him sick to his stomach thinking about Lena alone with Howard. “Just pay attention, princess.”

*

“Holy shit,” I groaned. “I don’t think my face has ever hurt this bad from fake smiling.”

“Yeah,” Jake agreed. “Lucky for me, I don’t have to look nice to get tips.”

I rolled my eyes at him, sliding back behind the bar, now in my regular clothes, as I massaged my sore cheeks. “Fuck off.”

We served a few drinks to the equally tired group as they filled the gaps between the seats to finally complain about the night. Heather accepted her drink with a smile. “God, Lena should work behind the bar every night. She makes my drink absolutely perfect!”

“And I don’t?” Jake asked with a raised brow.

“You always add too much rum.”

“Oh, so you prefer it the lightweight way,” he clarified, earning Heather’s long middle finger and flipping him off.

Howard left quietly, something I was grateful for today after feeling him watching me all throughout service. Simone had stayed in the back, away from the bar, swirling a glass of wine in her poised hand, seemingly minding her business. She and I hadn’t interacted with one another outside of remaining professional during our shifts. Even then, we didn’t linger a second longer than we had to. Every time we locked eyes, though, I could only quietly hope for the day Jake told me he was finished with her bullshit so I could finally make good on my promise to her. Then, finally, the front door opened, and everyone went silent as Olive strolled in from her day off, dressed head to toe in nice clothes and sporting new, bright red hair.

“Oh my god,” Ari breathed, quickly covering her mouth as Olive made her way around to sit at the bar next to the kitchen doors.

It was probably the shitiest hair dye job I’d ever seen, with huge chunks of brown still peeking through and a visibly uneven dye coating making her hair look like multiple shades. She smiled. “Hi, Jake.”

He bit his lip. “Need a drink?”

“Sure,” she said, twirling her hair around her finger. “Just a glass of Irish whiskey.”

Isaac and I looked at one another over the bar, quietly giggling at the obvious attempt she was making to associate herself with me. Jake slid the drink across the bar to her, and we watched her gag on the liquor. “How was your day off?” Santos attempted to ask kindly.

Olive shrugged. “It was boring. That’s why I came here. Are you guys going to Home Bar?” She batted her eyelashes at Jake. “Jake?”

“No,” he answered. “We’re going to Jack and Ozzy’s tonight.”

“Oh,” she deflated. “I was hoping you’d be coming to Home Bar so we could hang out.”

He clicked his tongue. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Sasha finally burst. “What the fuck is with your hair?”

“You like it?” she asked, never looking away from Jake. “I dunno, I just kind of decided the other night to dye it. I think it suits me, don’t you?”

Jake gave me an amused look before he just nodded to back. “I’m gonna go change.”

“I’ve got the bar handled,” I assured him, smiling happily as he slid by Olive without even glancing at her, no matter how obviously she twisted the new red hair between her fingers or shoved her chest out to make her boobs pop.

“Oh, sweet baby,” Sasha cooed, examining the splotchy red dye job. “Red fur does not a tiger make. It’s all about the stripes of the beast. The experience and the… sex appeal. You, little Olive, have neither.” He stuck a finger in her face and grinned. “There is only one Tiger Bitch, and it is not you.”

Heather giggled, lifting another poorly executed strip of her hair. “Ohh, I dunno, she sure has some stripes.”

Ari shook her head. “Sploches is more like it. But, seriously, if you were going to dye your hair to copy her, you at least couldn’t have done a better job?”

Olive shook everyone off her with an offended, proud look. “I didn’t copy her!”

“Red hair, brown hair, blonde hair,” I started from behind the bar. “It doesn’t matter. She’s not me, and she knows she won’t ever be me.”

*

When Jake entered the locker room, Simone was already there, half changed into her regular clothes. He greeted her with a smile and a polite nod as he moved to get dressed. “Tonight was certainly interesting.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Good for tips, though.”

With a sigh, she replied, “Yes, it was. I saw Howard pull you into his office. Is there anything I should know?”

Jake glanced at her over his shoulder as he finished pulling on his shirt. “No. Just a reminder of his policy about disclosing employee relationships to him.”

“Oh?” She sounded hopeful as she continued, “Did you and Olive hit it off?”

He scoffed. “Hell no.”

“Why not?” Simone asked, continuing to change her clothes.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Guess she’s just not my type.”

She made an amused noise. “Everyone is your type, Jake. I figured Olive would be no different, and yet… You skipped over her. Maybe she is more like Tess than I thought.”

“She’s not like Tess,” Jake answered. Tess was naive and somewhat selfish in her choices, but ultimately, she was herself. Olive wasn’t. She changed her hair and personality, trying to fit whatever character she felt would get her what she wanted. “She’s just a girl playing pretend and embarrassing herself. Those people are always horrible in the sack. They never know what they’re doing or what they want.”

“And Lena’s better?”

He groaned, slamming his locker shut. “Jesus fucking Christ, how many times do I have to say we haven’t slept together before you believe me.”

Simone just shook her head, deep blue eyes shining and red lips cast into a frown. “Walk me home?” She asked, stepping toward him with a gentle hand on his chest.

That was their code. It had been for years. A whole year had passed since she last asked him to come home with her, to be with her how they used to be. In that time, she’d slept with Serena’s husband and Etienne. Her having other lovers never bothered him, but the fact that she’d lied about it did. Usually, Jake would push these feelings down and do as Simone wanted, but tonight… After everything that had happened between them and between him and Lena, Jake shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Excuse me?”

“When you slept with Serena’s asshole husband and Etienne, you didn’t tell me because you knew it’d hurt me. But it hurt more knowing you lied. I’m still not in a place where that’s not on my mind.”

Simone laughed humorlessly and shook her head. “Unbelievable. Are you such a child that you can’t get over things that happened months ago?”

Her words cut him to the core, as they always did when he received her ire. “I’m sorry Simone, I just… It wouldn’t feel right.”

“Go on then,” she urged. “Run down to the bar like the good lapdog you are, and when she’s broken your heart, just like I said she would, or you finally decide to grow up, you know where I’ll be. But you’d better have one hell of an apology prepared, or I swear to god, Jake, I’m just going to be through with you.”

Don’t say that… He thought, pain, fear, and sorrow welding to his chest as he watched Simone turn away from him and leave. For a minute, all he could do was stand there and stare at the empty doorway. Would she really be through with him? Would Simone finally abandon him like everyone else had?

A flash of red filled his vision as Lena paused in the doorway. “You coming?” Her voice brought air into his lungs, lifting that feeling from his chest. “Drinks are on Sasha tonight.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Everything okay?” She asked, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head to the side.

Jake nodded, pulling his thoughts from Simone and her anger and her threats to focus on her. Those green eyes, that red hair, and how her lips curved into a smile only made him want to kiss her again. Lena was here. Even after he’d been an ass and deliberately entertained Tess and Olive to get a rise from the fierce redhead. She was here, looking at him like he mattered like she cared. She does care, he realized. 

He cleared his throat and nodded again. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

She smiled, leaning forward on her feet to tap his chest. “You’re it.”

Laughing, he moved forward, laying his hand on her head. “You’re it.”

“You’re it,” she said one last time before turning and bolting down the stairs, laughing as he moved to follow her. “Last one to Ozzy’s has to buy shots!” She screamed through the front room, nothing but a blur of red hair and his leather jacket.

As Jake watched his coworkers, his friends, shoot out of their seats and rush after the woman with shouts and laughs, he couldn’t help but smile. Once he’d finally caught up to her and swept her off her feet, he nearly collapsed as she kicked and squealed. That red hair fell back into his face, filling his nose with sweet cherries and rose as he laughed breathlessly, his lips brushing against the back of her neck. A promise of a kiss. “You’re it, princess.”

“Laugh it up, tough guy,” she said, leaning back into him. “I’m gonna be tagging you right back once you let me go.”

I’ll never let go then, he thought to himself, quietly inhaling her scent, searing it and this moment into his memory. “We’ll see.”

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake and lena #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter lena #jake and lena #lena harrow #jake x lena #sweetbitter tess #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter santos #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter peter #sweetbitter patrick #sweetbitter prue #sweetbitter quinn #sweet bitter

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 15 | Chapter 17

Chapter 16: Little Fish

TW: as always mentions of drinking, smoking and some minor mentions of drug use (current and past), language, mentions of sexual content, some classic catfight material (Tess vs. Simone) a bit of jealous Jake, some kind of heavy topics, I haven't been to New York so please suspend your disbelief while I poorly describe shit, I also do not speak Japanese so the translations all came from Google Translate. I apologize in advance if they're wrong. And this long ass chapter was edited quickly so if there are any mistakes either ignore them or please politely point them out so I can try to go in and fix them. Enjoy y'all! This bitch is 28 pages so stay hydrated and well fed! 😂

Oswald rarely had a quiet moment to himself. One certainly foregoes all notions of such when caring for a family of three misfit orphans. But, in the slightly too dark and slightly too musty storage area behind the bar, Ozzy had a moment to himself. He used the time wisely, slowly looking through the old photo album and giving each picture the remembrance it deserved.

It was all there, every birthday and Christmas and vacation. His whole life. The bits that mattered, anyway.

His worn fingers ran over the picture of him and Jack after his first win in some small-time boxing match. It'd taken a better part of thirty years for the brute to convince him to try boxing. Ozzy trained for only a month before agreeing to the match, one he was positively certain Jack had rigged, just to get it over with. All the punches, all the early mornings, and the wisecracks from the kids were made worth it that night when he won. When the love of his life, a love he thought long lost, kissed him in the middle of the ring and gave him that stupid boxing title.

Oz "The Wizard" Moore. So original.

That joyful feeling that filled his chest at the thought of Jack Harrow was always accompanied by the bitter pain of losing him. The young man he'd met in the alley when they were nothing more than two nineteen-year-olds hiding who they were from the world was extraordinary in every way. Strong, not just in the physical sense but in the mental one too. Jack was every bit the man his father wasn't. 

Ozzy remembered all the times he stumbled on Jack taking a beating from his father. Beatings, he supposed, the older, conventional type of man thought would "cure" his son of habits he disapproved of. Habits like making out with the clueless nineteen-year-old trying to run a business in the building next door. And yet, even after a brutal show of force, Ozzy would find Jack in that alley, waiting for him with a smile.

It was funny how a disgusting alley in New York City could be so… Romantic. It was a space between their two worlds, one tiny sliver of an idea, a hope that the two of them could go against the odds and make it. A dream, one that ended when Jack's parents found him a wife.

Everything between him and Jennifer changed him, yet Oz remained close to Jack. Friends. A simple thing that they'd both convinced themselves they could live with, yet a term they knew wasn't going to change how they really felt. Ozzy had worried at first that the manipulative shrew had taken too much when she left. He worried that Jack, his best friend and the man he still very much loved, would crumble under the loss of his little girl and the threats Jennifer spewed. That wasn't his style, though. It never had been.

Ozzy held back tears as he continued through the pages. He'd spent the last four years trying to carry the grief with a calm mask. He'd lost the love of his life, a love he'd only just regained, and it hurt more than anything he'd ever known. But those kids, his kids, didn't need to lose another parent, so he moved forward, but that bittersweet ache remained.

Pictures were now all that remained of that young man, that stubborn man, that tragic epic of a love with too little time.

After restacking the boxes remaining in the bar's storage, Ozzy held the photo album to his chest and turned off the light, shutting the door behind him and locking it tightly. Dom rounded the corner, shoulders straight and face tense. A sense of uneasy fear washed over him, causing his fingers to curl tighter around the book. "We've got a problem."

*

The sounds of large men stuffing their faces full of the modest breakfast I'd prepared for them gave me a victorious feeling. They groaned and slurped and laughed together as I washed the dishes left from my cooking. It wasn't much of a thank you for the long sleepless nights they dedicated to patrolling my street, but it was all they'd let me get away with.

Ryker shook his head, pointing to the half-devoured pancakes on his plate. "This is the best thing I've ever eaten."

Wit and Ollie nodded in agreement. "I'm gonna miss this."

"Come on," I insisted. "You don't have to pretend you'll miss standing outside my door all night."

"It wasn't so bad," John reassured me, setting his plate in the sink beside me.

"I hate to doubt you guys, but… Is Dom sure everything's over with?" I tucked my hair behind my ear and laughed. "I really don't want any more rocks through my window."

Ryker finished his pancakes and stood, giving me a tight squeeze as he set his things down. "Don't worry. Dom's got it all under control. You know him."

"I do." The relieved sigh that left me alleviated the heavy weight of all that I'd been dealing with. If Dom said it was safe, I believed him. "Thank you, guys. Seriously."

"Like I said, don't worry about it, kid."

Wit was the last to put his dishes in the sink, ruffling my hair as he followed the others out of my apartment and returned to Dom's warehouse. The lack of gruff bikers walking around my apartment was odd, but I was glad it was over. More so, I was glad that nothing truly bad happened. No one was hurt or threatened. No one even saw him. Maybe that meant he'd finally given up… Finally, let me go.

It was an impossible thought. I knew that, knew that it was far too hopeful to ever be a reality. But I clung to it anyway. Like ivy clinging to an old, weighed-down chain link fence, I clung to the hope.

My phone pinged, and a text message from Mr. Hiragana's associates lit up my screen. My employer looks forward to your meeting and wishes to know how many guests we should prepare for.

Scott and I had discussed the meeting a few times since the night Mr. Hiragana had his associate give me the business card. He was ready. More than that, he seemed excited, a rare thing for Scott. Jake, however, bristled at any mention of it. I knew it wasn't intentional but rather a symptom of his trauma, so I never pushed him for a straight answer. The vague "maybe's" and "I'll think about it's" were enough. But now I needed an answer. Two. I replied. I plan on bringing two colleagues from 22West with me.

Excellent, we will make all the necessary preparations. Thank you.

Closing my phone and gathering my things together, I started walking to work, going over possible ways to broach this subject with Jake when the time came. Either way, it was gonna be a hell of a night. I walked past a few cooks smoking in the alley, greeting everyone with smiles and a bit of casual banter before heading inside, where the relaxed feeling of the alley shifted into that of a blood bath.

"You can't keep pulling this shit!" Scott yelled.

Howard stood in front of the pissed-off chef with an emotionless expression. "I understand your frustration, but this situation is hardly my doing."

"Bullshit!"

Howard quieted Scott with a raised hand as he turned to me, straightening his jacket. "Lena." Having only the stiffness of his voice to gauge his mood, I assumed he was stressed. "Our lovely hostess is… Out for the night. I need you to fill in for her."

"Alright," I replied warily. "Is there something else?"

"No." Scott rolled his eyes, aggressively chopping fine slices of meat. Howard sighed, barely glancing at the chef. "There's appropriate attire waiting for you upstairs. I had Will put it in your locker."

The tension didn't ease as I headed toward the stairs with a quiet thanks. Ari and Sasha just finished changing, offering me smiles and kisses as they hurried to the family meal. Inside my locker, a dry cleaning bag hung with an emerald green dress inside.

The soft fine velvet, an expensive feeling material, made me pause. Surely there was some sort of mix-up. I'd seen what the hostesses normally wore, and while they did dress up on important occasions, their attire was never like this. When Will emerged from the door leading to the upper level, I stopped him. "Will! Uh, Howard told me there'd be some clothes for me in my locker, but…" Holding up the dress, I smiled tensely. "This seems like a mistake."

Will shrugged. "That's the bag Howard gave me. I double-checked, and he said that was the outfit he picked."

"Okay," I replied with a chuckle. "Looks like I'm gonna be a bit overdressed then."

It was a beautiful dress, hugging my figure in a flattered way, the long sleeves ending perfectly at my wrists, and the dress stopped just above my knees. The sweetheart neckline was more revealing than I'd expected of a hostess' dress, but it made my breasts look good. Inside a smaller bag was a pair of matching emerald earrings and a long golden necklace with smaller emeralds placed throughout.

Putting in the earrings, I slid off my old shoes and put on the heels provided for me when a light knock echoed from the doorway. Howard smiled, eyes trailing down my body as he nodded approvingly. "You look radiant."

"Thank you," I said, awkwardly holding the necklace. "Is it some kind of special occasion or something?"

"No," he answered. "No special occasion. If you have to, you can consider it an extended apology for my part in your mother's schemes."

"That's hardly necessary, Howard."

Gesturing to the necklace, he smiled softly and sweetly. "May I?"

I handed him the necklace with a slightly awkward shrug. "Sure."

Howard carefully pulled my hair over my shoulder and clasped the necklace around my neck. He stood back and nodded approvingly at the green sight of me nearly reflecting in his glasses. "Perfect. I trust you're feeling confident about hostessing tonight?"

"You know me, Howard," I said with a tight smile. "I'm always feeling confident."

"Of course," he chuckled, squeezing my shoulder. For a minute, he looked like he wanted to say more, opening his mouth only to be interrupted by Simone appearing in the doorway. She drank in the sight of us with a pleased smile. Howard withdrew his hand and nodded to us both. "Have a good service tonight, ladies."

"You too," I replied, turning to reorganize my things in my locker. 

"Howard," Simone practically purred as the manager slid past her.

The locker room fell silent. It'd been a while since Simone and I had spoken more than two words to one another, and I wasn't looking to change that. Silence was safe. It meant there would be less of a chance that I'd dig up more than I already had. I knew what I knew. I knew what a monster Simone was, but Jake didn't. Jake still loved the woman who had raised him, lied to him, and abandoned him. The woman that had used him. It wasn't my place to force him to confront everything she'd done, and I knew better than most what could happen.

Forcing someone to face the worst parts of their life, things so traumatic and life-altering, was like playing with fire. One mistake could burn a house down. Jake had his house, his world, built on Simone. She was the mother he lost, the sister he never had, the one he thought of as his first love. Losing all that, the foundation of his whole life would destroy him. 

Tearing an entire house down was hard, even more so when you have to do it board by board. But I wasn't afraid of a bit of hard work. I'd tug every loose board Jake showed me, and I'd help him rebuild, just like my family had done for me. Starting life over was a pain most people didn't have to live with, and for those that had done it, well, we needed to stick together.

I closed my locker and turned to face her, having decided with a sigh. "Mind if we talk for a second?"

She looked over her shoulder, arching a perfect brow. "I think it's overdue."

"I'm not going to apologize for anything I said,'' I began. "I think you deserved to hear every word. But I realize the strain our animosity is causing Jake, and I care too much about him to make his life harder."

"You have strong opinions of me," Simone replied after a minute of thought and a scoff at the mere uttering that I cared for Jake. Her voice was flat, speaking matter of factly, void of emotion. "And despite how misguided and unfounded they may be, I respect your right to have them. You don't want to be friends, which is fine with me. However, since it seems you have no intention of going anywhere, I agree it'd be best if we weren't enemies."

I could read between the lines. This was a truce but also a warning. She lifted her head, setting her lips in a thin line showing me exactly how unhappy she was having this conversation. Yet, she still did it because it mattered to him. In some very deep and manipulative way, Simone cared about Jake. It wasn't right, this relationship they had. I knew that, but at that moment, for whatever reason, Simone agreed with me. "I have no issue being civil, Simone. As long as we share a mutual interest, I have no intention or interest in trying to undermine you."

"Smart," she admitted, though I could see in her eyes she was seething over my openly admitting I was interested in Jake. "I do hope your opinions of me change, but for now, I suppose all that matters is Jake."

"Seems like we agree then."

"It seems so." She smiled, turning to finish primping. "Thank you for the conversation, little one."

I ground my teeth together at the nickname I now could safely assume she used to try and twist the dull blade left by my mother, but instead of pushing things, I turned and hurried down the stairs to grab some food while I still could. The enthusiastic whistles were instantaneous as Sasah and Ari practically tripped over themselves, trying to get a good feel for the soft fabric now shrouding me in green. Heather complimented the color and the fit, admitting she was slightly jealous that I got such a nice outfit instead of those hideous stripes.

The only person missing was Jake. After the family meal was cleared away and the preparations for the night of service started in full, I assumed Jake was back to keeping a much more loose schedule. Though he wasn’t Howard's favorite by a long shot, he’d likely grown more comfortable falling back into his late arrival as Howard's focus seemed to shift elsewhere. After double-checking the tables and the flower arrangements, I headed toward the hostess stand, determined to get acquainted with the reservation book before service started. 

The tables that had occupied the small square of space to the side of the front door had been rearranged, and the hostess stand had been moved over, now in full view of the large window. I turned to Nicky. “Did this get moved?”

He shrugged. “No clue. Maybe Howard’s trying to use your pretty face to get people interested in coming in for dinner sometime.”

“You’re hilarious, Nick.”

Chuckling to himself, he carried on with his tasks, and I carried on with mine until I felt comfortable with the names of the guests. Hopping behind the bar, I started helping him polish glasses, just looking for something to keep my hands busy while my mind still struggled to come up with a good way to talk to Jake about the meeting. The bartender walked through the doors as if on cue, straightening his tie.

His eyes widened slightly as he took in my appearance. Drawing his bottom lip between his teeth, he leaned against the bar's side, admiring my ass in the dress. “Well, good evening to you too, princess.”

“You’re later than I expected you to be,” I replied casually. “You missed your chance to ogle at the dress properly.”

“It’s not the dress I’m ogling,” Jake smirked, standing beside me, just a hair too close. “You should play hostess more often.”

I tilted my head slightly, sending him a quick doe-eyed stare. “And why’s that?”

“I’ve got a good reputation with hostesses.” He said, eyes drawn to my lips.

My brow quirked as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Didn’t Roslyn say she hated your guts and wished you’d die in your own shit?”

Jake shrugged, reaching over to grab a glass and polish it, finally seeming to realize he was at work. “Roslyn was bitter a hell. Trust me, she didn’t have many complaints before I blew her off.”

“I wonder why?”

“So, the dress,” he said, changing the subject. “Is the Pope coming in for dinner, or are you just trying to impress everyone on your first night being a hostess?”

“Howard insisted I wear it.”

Jake rolled his eyes and scoffed. “What a gentleman.”

"What, you don't like my dress?" I teased, sliding past him back toward the hostess stand.

Jake stayed behind the bar but stood at the far end, watching me closely. "It's a great dress. I just can’t believe Howard’s trying to buy your attention with gifts.”

“It’s just for the night.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He looked at the dress one last time before the night really started. “I still prefer you in red, though."

Rolling my eyes, I arched a brow. "And here I thought you were gonna say something stupid like how you prefer me in nothing at all." 

He hummed, grabbing another glass to polish with a grin, "Hmm, that doesn't sound like me."

Service was a lot less stressful when all I was responsible for was the guests at the door and a few coats. It was also much easier to get distracted being out in the front with Jake all night. Watching him cater to the guests with that gleaming grin and natural charm was like watching an artist at work. It was cheesy and obviously about the tips, but I still couldn’t look away, and neither could the guests. The true show was when he’d roll his sleeves up and give everyone close by a good peek at the growing muscles of his arms. 

Jake caught me staring a few times, sending me a wink or a slow drag of his eyes down my body. It was invigorating, so much so that I shamelessly pictured what it would be like to have him pin me to the hostess stand and finally put those accursed and talented lips on mine. Or, better yet, back on my pussy like he had a few days ago. As always, Jake seemed to be able to tell when my thoughts drifted to less friendshiply things. His eyes darkened, and his smile grew far more smug. He enjoyed showing off and capturing my attention like this, but two could play that game.

I was thankful for the dress at that moment as it allowed me the perfect opportunity to lean forward and instantly draw his gaze to my breasts. They looked soft and supple, but judging by the hungry look in Jake’s eyes and the way he ran his tongue along his lips and teeth, he was disappointed it wasn’t covered in his hickeys. The dress also gave me many opportunities to show off the body Jake seemed to enjoy so much. Lifting my hands over my head, I stretched slightly, and his eyes couldn’t keep themselves from admiring the subtle arch in my back and the curve of my waist. It was too easy but no less fun.

Eventually, Howard requested I serve the guests at the door a small taster of wine to help sell whatever product it was that he wanted to focus on tonight. I slid behind the bar, Jake watching every step, and reached up to try and grab the bottle I needed, only to find myself too short. My eyes narrowed as I distinctly remembered watching Nicky and Jake grab the bottle from a much lower, more accessible shelf earlier. Then I felt the heat of Jake’s body at my back and realized his goal.

Large hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as I attempted to turn. I had to bite my lower lip as he gently kneaded his skilled fingertips into my flesh, massaging lightly before lifting a hand up. Jake didn’t need to lean into me to reach the bottle, we both knew he was tall enough, but that certainly didn’t stop his shamelessness. I could feel the pronounced half-hard outline of his dick glide against the soft fabric of the dress. The sensation made a shiver run up my spine as a soft, barely audible moan whispered across my skin.

The bottle was placed in my hands, and Jake settled his lips beside my ear, smirking as he whispered. “There you go, princess.”

“I wouldn’t have needed the help if you hadn’t of moved it.” My mouth was dry as I turned to look up at him, chest to chest, faces far too close for “just friends”.

He shrugged. “I blame the dress. Clouding my judgment and whatnot.”

I met his teasing with a smirk of my own. “Judgement? You?”

“I have my moments.” His hands squeezed my hips one last time, sliding along the dress before he winked. “Better get back to work before Howard pitches a fit.” The bottle. The guests. Right. I turned quickly to gather the small testing glasses, but not quickly enough to miss Jake’s praise. “Good girl.”

Fucking. I turned to glare at him as the urge to squeeze my thighs together nearly overtook me. He smirked into the drink he started making as I mumbled some vaguely empty threat about getting him back later. The guests came first, or whatever. As I turned, my eyes locking onto a pair of wide brown ones, I knew there wouldn’t be a chance to continue our game. 

Tess moved to the bar, throwing her purse on top of it in front of Jake, almost causing him to spill the drink he was making. With an angry look, he regarded her. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s been weeks,” she said coldly. “You said you were gonna talk to me, and then you just ghosted me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Looking around, she shook her head. “Yeah, real busy. So busy you can’t even bother picking up the phone.”

Jake leaned forward. “Get the hell out of here, Tess. We’ll talk about it later.”

“No.”

“Just-”

I saw the blonde hair exit the kitchen before Jake and Tess did, and when Simone’s polite face crafted to get the most tips from her guests fell into a deep and very obvious scowl, I knew everyone in this restaurant was fucked. Her grip on the plates tightened as she slid past the bar in silence. Jake’s demeanor shifted in less than a second. There was no trace of the playfulness and cockiness he had just moments ago, nothing but tense anxiety. “Tess, leave. Now.”

“Why?” She demanded. Stubborn and oblivious. “So you can just blow me off again?”

“Tess-”

“No.” She turned and glared at me. “Is this because of her?”

Jake looked at me, the word he wanted to say almost visible in his eyes. “No.” Yes.

I was frozen, staring at the nonverbal confession that hung between us. A confession that, if ever admitted aloud, would change everything. Simone’s blonde hair broke us both out of the daze as she approached Jake at the bar, acting like she hadn’t seen Tess at all. Acting like even if she had, it didn’t matter. 

“My love,” she started smiling as she leaned on the bar next to Tess. “I need a bottle of Opus for table seven.”

Jake couldn’t move, his eyes slightly wide as they flashed to Tess. “Okay.”

Simone nodded, moving to turn away when she “spotted” Tess. “Oh… Hello Tess.”

“Simone,” Tess replied, voice dripping with bitter anger. 

“It’s good to see you,” Simone continued. “You look well.”

Tess shook her head. “Yeah, getting away from all the drama of this place must agree with me.”

Simone’s smile was thin as she nodded. “That’s good.”

“How are things here?” Tess asked. “I haven’t had much time to catch up with everyone.”

“They’re good,” She replied. “As always.”

“As always?” Tess spared Jake a look. “Guess that means you two are back in bed together right? That is if you ever stopped.”

That was when everything shifted. The simple pleasantries were gone, replaced by anger and hatred I could only assume was held in for too long. Jake moved, quickly rounding the bar to get to Simone’s side just in time for her to laugh in Tess’s face. “You always were so insecure.”

Tess moved to stand. “Insecure? I was right about you and your twisted bullshit!”

“How dare you come here and attack me when you were the one to destroy our friendship.” Simone bit back. “How dare you.”

“All I wanted-”

“All you wanted was something you cannot have!”

“That’s enough,” Jake said, gently nudging Simone.

Tess’s eyes filled with liquid as she desperately wanted to cry but held it in. “It was all your fault. Everything! You just couldn’t stand the thought of being the sad, washed-up waitress you are.”

“How’s Howard?” Was Simone’s reply. “Oh, you wouldn’t know, would you? He was never really interested in you, after all, was he? You were just easy, like always.”

"That's enough," Jake repeated, shoving between Tess and Simone, forcing the blonde to meet his eyes. "Come on, Simone. Just walk away."

She scoffed, an action that made her look more animal than a woman. Her teeth bared, she practically shoved Jake away from her. “Typical.”

He winced as she walked away, seething with anger, but he still moved to follow. Tess grabbed his shoulder, her wide eyes filled with desperation and disbelief. "Seriously, Jake?"

"Get the fuck out of here, Tess," he replied roughly as he pulled himself away from her to follow Simone.

"Fucking…" Tess groaned, grabbing her purse from the bar and turning to leave in a huff.

I followed her out, watching her wipe budding tears away from the corners of her eyes before speaking, "What were you hoping to accomplish with that?"

She glared at me. "Why the fuck do you care?"

"Because that little showdown, confrontation, whatever, just made Jake's night - hell, maybe even his life a lot harder," I replied. "Someone that cares about him wouldn't have done that."

"Stop acting like you know me!" She shouted. "Like you know him!"

"I don't know you, Tess. And based on all I've seen so far, I don't want to. But I do know Jake. I know he still cares about you, and I know how bad you hurt him." I looked inside the window at Howard, ordering the servers to control the damage. "You're young and naive. That's fine. It's understandable, but sooner or later, your sole focus on what you want is gonna drive away the people that care about you."

Tess turned her head too, looking inside the window at the tight smiles and quick, stressed movements of her former coworkers - her friends. "I… I didn't mean for this to happen. I just wanted-"

"You just wanted," I repeated. "I hate to be the one to teach you this lesson, but it's not always about you."

"So what? I'm just supposed to put everyone above myself?"

"It's about balance." I gestured to the bustling street. "That's what this city is, Tess. Balance."

Quickly looking around her, she asked, "How can you just stand there while she uses him?"

The insinuation that I didn't care as much about Jake as she did because I didn't get rid of Simone made me chuckle. "Rome wasn't built in a day. Getting out of unhealthy relationships doesn't happen overnight, either. Goodnight, Tess."

Inside service continued as though nothing happened. The guests ate up the gossip and drank expensive wine laughing about the show. It made my chest burn with old, cruel words I'd bit down on for as long as I could remember. Rich people sucked. They felt so above it all, so much better that they forgot the people they laughed and joked about were real fucking people. That show, as they called it, was someone's life. But, as always, they didn't care. They didn't even pretend to.

"When you have the kind of power money gives you, you don't have to pretend, baby girl."

Nicky handled the bar by himself, while Jake handled Simone. It wasn't easy, but the veteran refused any attempt at helping I offered. Things flowed smoothly from there until Jake returned to the bar. His body language and blank expression told me all I needed to know. The guests didn’t spare him, not bothering to stop talking about the outburst and not bothering to whisper it either. 

Jake’s jaw was tense as he finished the night of service, handing Nicky the tips and moving past with a simple. “I’m getting changed.”

I knew the hostess usually stayed to see the guests off, but my feet moved to follow him regardless. The kitchen was buzzing with the gossip, but no one stopped me to ask about it as I hurried up the stairs just in time to catch Jake punch his locker as hard as possible. I jumped, the metal groaning beneath his fist threatening to swallow me in the past, but I forced myself past it and slowly joined him in the empty locker room. “Hey.”

He looked over his shoulder, moving his fist from the metal and shrugging off the sting of pain I knew he felt. “Hey. Aren’t you supposed to be kissing the guest's asses?”

“Howard can manage that,” I joked lightly. “We both know how adept at ass-kissing he is.”

Jake chuckled, a soft sound that at least gave me - gave us both - a moment of relief. “Yeah, yeah, he is.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He started tugging at the buttons of his shirt. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

I nodded, averting my eyes to give him some sense of privacy. “Okay, that’s fine. Can I give you a hug, at least?”

He exhaled a shaky breath. “I don’t need one.”

“Who said you did?” I asked, slotting myself against his back. My arms wound around him, and my cheek settled against his bare back. “This is for me.”

With an appreciative chuckle, Jake placed one of his hands over mine. "Well, if it's for you, then I guess I can survive."

We stood like that for a while before I pulled away and let him change. "Tonight was kind of a shit show, wasn't it?"

He turned, eyes appreciating my dress one last time before I moved to change. "It had some highlights."

"So, you gonna call Tess back?"

"No." He fixed his shirt and put his earrings back in. "Told you I wasn't interested in getting back with her."

"I know," I replied. "But does she?"

Jake shook his head and shrugged. "I haven't told her anything besides telling her we'd talk later."

"I think you should." He looked at me with curious eyes. "Talk to her. Who knows, it might do you both some good. You know, closure or whatever."

"Did you get that with Francois?" He asked.

We hadn't spoken about that night. Jake didn't ask about it, and I hadn't brought it up, but clearly, we both remembered the hours he spent with me while I was in a low place. I shook my head. "That's different. I don't… I don't think he and I will ever get that."

Nodding, Jake sighed. "I… Sorry, I shouldn't try to compare. What happened with Tess and I is different from that."

"I get it," I said, shaking off the tinge of hurt that thoughts of Francois still brought me. "That a no to talking to Tess?"

"I'll think about it."

"How's Simone?" I forced myself to ask.

Jake shrugged again. "I got her calmed down, but she still seemed off.

"Are you skipping Ozzy's tonight?" I asked, turning away to change. "You know, to check up on her?"

"No," he said quietly. "She said she wanted some space."

"Yeah, what Tess said was a lot." Part of me lingered on her comment about Simone and Jake getting into bed together. Jealous and painful and not something I wanted to pull to the surface.

Jake, however, didn't need me to ask that question. One look, and he just knew in that way he always did. "It was just her trying to get a rise out of Simone. She and I… It's complicated and messy, but things haven't been like they were, not since before you started working here."

He wouldn't outright confirm they'd slept together - he couldn't - but his vague words brought me some comfort. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he insisted. "It's a good thing. At least, I like to think so."

The loud voices of our coworkers echoed through the stairwell as they clamored up to change and probe Jake for exclusive gossip on Simone and Tess' catfight. I changed while they talked, and Scott eventually joined the group. He still looked upset but wasn't actively cursing anymore. 

As soon as he finished changing, he turned to me, cigarette already between his lips. "We still on for the meeting this week?"

"Yeah," I answered, carefully looking over at Jake. It wasn't an ideal time to talk about whether or not he planned on joining us, but now it looked like it'd have to do.

Scott nodded, glaring at Jake. "You coming?"

"Maybe," the dark-haired, broody bartender replied. 

"Whatever, man."

I waited until everyone funneled out of the locker room before I smiled at Jake. "I told Mr. Hiragana's associate to plan for two extra guests. So, if you are planning on coming, there's a spot for you."

His jaw tensed again as he nodded, looking away from me. "Okay."

"Jake, if this isn't something you're interested in doing," I smiled, stepping in front of him and turning his face toward me. "That's okay."

"Simone-"

"This isn't about her," I said gently, pressing my hand against his chest. "This is about you. What you think. What you want. So, don't make the decision for Simone or Scott, or me. Make it for yourself."

"That's more confusing than you think it is."

"I know." I squeezed his hand and lightly tapped his chest. "I just want you to do what's best for you. To be happy, no matter what you choose."

His eyes softened, and when he nodded, I knew he'd try to think about it without inserting anyone else. "Thanks."

"No problem, sweetie. Now ditch the lemon face and come on, or we'll be late to Ozzy's. I've gotta help with the bar tonight."

*

Jake sat in the booth at Ozzy's, listening to Patrick and Peter plan some exercises for him to try now that he'd started showing some skill in the sport they both loved. Quinn and Ari sat at the bar, and Sasha searched for a man to ensnare for the night. Prue and Will grabbed their drinks from the bar and slid into the empty spot beside him.

His eyes were almost glued to Lena as she worked behind the bar. Jake had watched her do it so much over the past few months, but it never lost the deep, almost sexual appeal. The way she moved, was confident and experienced while maintaining her fun, lovable nature made him so drawn in. Seeing her tits a bit when she leaned over wasn't such a downside, either.

The only thing that seemed different about tonight was the lack of a certain drug dealer's presence. He noted how Lena searched the crowd of his usual crew and how her face fell slightly when she didn't find him there. That made him feel a tiny itch of jealousy, one there from the start but one that hadn't bothered him too much.

A flash of deep blue and sparkling silver caught his eye as a police officer made his way through the crowd with searching eyes. The man was tall and well built with a face women would find conventionally attractive. He reminded Jake of Will. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a look about him that just screamed goody two shoes. Prue turned her head and smiled widely, making an excited speaking noise as she shot up in the booth and waved to catch his attention. "SAMMY!"

The blonde turned his head, grinning ear to ear at her as he made his way to their table. "Prue bear!" He wasted no time bending across to hug her, signing a simple conversation with the artist before Quinn's familiar laugh caught his attention.

"Sam I Am. Sam I am, oh how I love that Sam I Am!" Quinn said with a wide grin as she engulfed the officer in a tight hug. "It's good to see you, blue eyes."

"You too, Quinny," the blonde man replied.

She pulled back, wiggling her eyebrows. "Can I taze somebody?"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "No. Is Lee around?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and nodded toward the bar. "Course, she's where she always is."

Jake watched the blonde man's eyes light up at the sight of Lena wiping down the bar. A bitter taste filled his mouth as his chest tightened with a similarly bitter feeling. The officer straightened his back and smiled at Prue, offering her another quick conversation in sign language. Seeing her friends regard him with fondness only made the feeling worse. Then the man's blue eyes landed on Jake. "Hi, I don't think we've met before."

"We haven't," Jake said almost angrily, earning an arched brow and a knowing smile from Quinn. "I'm Jake."

"Jake," he dumbly repeated, reaching over to offer his hand. "I'm Sam."

He looked at Sam's extended hand and friendly demeanor and quickly decided to offer him neither in return. Jake leaned back in his seat, putting distance between him and the hand offered. Sam only smiled as he shrugged his shoulders and let his hand drop. "It was nice to meet you."

Quinn slapped his shoulder. "Now let's talk about that taser."

As the two of them walked away, Prue shook his shoulder. Her hands moved quickly, his eyes taking in the motion but only catching a few words. When he simply stared at her after she'd finished talking, she nudged Will, who sat up and reluctantly translated. "She's asking what your problem with Sam is."

"I don't have one," he said simply.

Prue rolled her eyes and laughed, signing a word she knew he knew. "Bullshit!"

Will smirked, the sight of it lighting a fire in Jake that hadn't been lit for months. "Got something to say?"

He'd always been someone Jake disliked. His attitude, his hair, and the way he talked and moved through life so unencumbered. Truth be told, Jake knew Will wasn't acting like he was better than everyone. He just was. When Will first started at the restaurant, Simone asked, "Why can't you be more like Will?"

He was honest and hardworking, dependable not only to his employer but to his friends. Will was everything Jake wasn't. Simone knew it, and so did he. So when Will scoffed, it took every ounce of his self-control not to punch him. "You know what," the man laughed. "I do have something to say."

"Let's hear it then," Jake replied, wanting nothing more than for Will to finally dish back the slew of insults and grief he'd given him over the years.

Will didn't do that, though. His eyes narrowed slightly as he asked, "What the hell are you doing?" What? Jake's whole body relaxed with shock at Will's genuine expression. "You and Lena have been doing this whole friendship with benefits bullshit for months now, and it's pretty damn obvious to everyone else you both want it to be more, so what the fuck are you waiting for?"

"Lena's made it pretty clear she doesn't want to be anything more," Jake replied.

"Bullshit," Will said and signed. "She's only saying that because she's worried you've just been playing the long game."

"What?"

"Let me put it this way," he leaned forward. "How many new girls have you fucked?"

"Pretty much all of 'em."

Will nodded. "And how many of those girls do you talk to now?"

Jake sighed. "None."

"If you're serious about her, then show her that." Will's expression never shifted as he offered Jake advice he didn't deserve. "I know you and I have never been friends. And I know better than most what an absolute dick you are, but even you deserve the chance to be happy. More importantly, so does she."

He turned his head, unable or unwilling to continue meeting Will's too-kind gaze. The bar was practically empty now, except for a few drunk patrons and now Sam and Lena.

*

A knock echoed on the bar, followed by a nervous clearing of one's throat. "I, uh… Got a call about a potential drug deal."

Turning away from the shelves of liquor, I smiled. "Well, well, if it isn't Officer Mayfield." Sam blushed, just as adorable and innocent as I remembered him. "You got a warrant?"

"No," he chuckled. "Just going door to door asking if anyone's seen anything suspicious."

"Mmm, so you're just asking to get lied to."

"Basically."

"Well, in that case," I leaned on the bar and smiled. "I haven't seen a thing, Officer."

Sam's eyes drifted slightly to the generous view down my top, his face turning beat red as he cleared his throat and nodded. "Dom isn't here then?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't know anything about that. I'm just a bartender."

"Just a bartender is definitely not how I'd describe you." That genuine tone I hadn't heard in months made me smile more.

"Is this the part where you say you need to strip-search me?" I teased.

Sam's eyes widened just a fraction as he stuttered over a response before, finally, he chuckled. "It's good to see you, Lee."

"You too, Sammy." I walked around the bar and hugged him tightly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "You know I'm gonna have to kick you out now, right?"

"Wouldn't be Ozzy's if a cop didn't get kicked out."

Patting his shoulder, I grabbed an abandoned drink and splashed it in his face. Sam grinned, those blue eyes shining fondly as I pinched his now wet cheek and nodded toward the door. "Don't trip on your way out, pig."

Dom's boys laughed, raising their glasses to me and oinking loudly as Sam passed through the crowd. Still smiling, I moved back behind the bar as Quinn, Jake, and Sasha made their way over for refills. Ozzy stepped out of the office, looking around at the commotion. "What the bloody hell is going on out here?"

"Sam dropped by," I answered.

Oz smiled, nudging my shoulder. "And how is Officer Mayfield?"

I shrugged, opening a beer and passing it to Quinn. "Dunno, we didn't really get to chat much."

"Shame," Ozzy said, tucking hair behind my ear. "Always liked that boy of yours."

Jake's jaw clenched slightly as I passed him a drink. His blue eyes were guarded, hardened by the deep-set scowl on his face. Quinn noticed it, too, and decided to be her naturally bitchy self. "I liked him too, though if you're gonna fool around, I ask that you lock the door so I don't have to see you two get hot and heavy in the bathroom again. I don't think I've ever seen handcuffs used that way."

Rolling my eyes, I shooed Ozzy out of the way. "You're all so funny."

Sasha leaned on the bar, grinning like a cat. "Tiger Bitch! I never would have pegged you for a lover of the law!"

"I fucked a cop Sasha," I replied. "That's hardly 'lover of the law' territory."

"You fucked that cop a lot, though," Quinn added. "At one point, I think we all expected you to get together."

Jake's jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together, taking a stiff drink. "Yeah, well, you're all idiots."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Can we at least talk about what I caught you two doing on Halloween a few years ago?!"

"I'm going out for a smoke," Jake said, pushing off the bar and out the back door.

With an evil, satisfied smile Quinn shrugged. "Wonder what's up his ass tonight."

"You're a bitch." I served the last drinks and left the clean-up to Ian so I could follow Jake. The sound of chains rattling made my eyes narrow as I moved through the back room to find him in front of a punching bag. "I thought you were going for a smoke."

He nodded to the locker room. "Someone's waiting for you."

Shit. I hurried out to the back alley just in time to catch Whisky hissing at Sam before he jumped off the couch and scurried through the open door. Sam chuckled. "Guess the strays still know I'm a dog person."

"Yeah, that's not exactly something they forget."

"Hey," he said quietly, a nervous greeting.

"Hey," I answered with a smile. "Is this a meeting with Officer Mayfield or with Sam?"

"Just Sam," he answered. "I… I wanted to see you. Not for work reasons."

I nodded, joining him on the couch. "I'm glad. You're a good friend, you know, after you overlook the cop shit."

He laughed and looked at me with those pretty eyes. They were lighter than Jake's. A sky instead of an ocean. "I know we agreed not to… You know be together, but I… I've been thinking about you a lot recently."

"Sammy," I sighed. "You know that's not a good idea."

"I know." He looked out at the brick wall again. "Guess I just miss you."

"I miss you too, as my friend."

Sam's cheeks reddened slightly as he gestured to the door. "So, I, uh, met Jake. Is he your…"

"Friend." I replied with a sigh. "A complicated one."

He seemed happy, almost. "You like him."

Rolling my eyes, I sent him a look. "You're just as bad as Quinn."

"Come on, Lee. Obviously, the two of you are more than 'complicated friends'." With a nudge to my shoulder, he smiled. "I'm glad you found something like that."

"You'll find it too. Handsome guy like you is bound to land one hell of a girl."

"Hopefully!" He replied, standing up and opening his arms to one last hug. "See you around?"

"Course you will. I'm hard to miss." As he turned to leave out the alley, I hollered out to him, "Ditch the uniform next time, and I'll buy you a drink!"

He waved. "Got yourself a deal, Lee!"

Back inside the gym, Jake continued to punch the bag in front of him, eyes focused and expression tight. Beside him Whisky sat on top of his jacket, purring softly. Instead of trying to get his attention, I simply joined him on the punching bag next to him with a simple, "You can smoke now."

"Officer douche is gone then?"

"He's hardly a douche, but yeah, he's gone."

There was a pause in his hits as he said, "So, guess I'm not the only one that knows about the couch."

I looked over at him, seeing the unspoken hurt in his eyes. "I've only taken one other person there. And it took Sam years to get that privilege."

I could tell my words made him feel better, but there was still something bothering him. "He seems like a good guy."

"He is."

"Why aren't you with him then?"

I shrugged, throwing a few more punches. "We're just different people. Sex is uncomplicated, but anything more than that would've been a disaster." Jake didn't seem satisfied with my answer. "Sam's sweet. He wants what a lot of good guys want out of life. A meaningful career, a nice house out of the city with the white picket fence… kids."

"And that's not what you want?"

"I like my job, bartending and cooking. It's simple, and I'm good at it." I threw another punch at the bag. "And I love living in the city."

"What about kids?" He finally asked.

I stopped hitting the bag, numbness prickling my fingertips like needles as I dumbly let myself remember that hospital room. Beaten and broken, but finally free. I remembered how clean the air smelt. It was so clean I could practically taste it. My Dad's voice reassuring me that they'd all be back after a good hose down in the bar alley… Dom sitting beside me when the doctor came in.

"No." The word was cold and definite. "That's… I…" With a sigh, I forced my limbs back up, punching the bag once, twice more. "I've never really wanted that."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jake nod. "Understandable. That domestic shits the worst."

A slightly tense but relieving laugh bubbled up out of my throat. "Sounds like you've had a lot of bad experiences with that domestic shit."

"Not really," he replied with a chuckle. "Just figured, given everything…" I understood the pain that he held in the unspoken words. "I doubt I'd be any good at it."

He punched his bag several times, taking that frustration and anger out on the sandbag, signaling this conversation's end. We worked out alongside each other for a few minutes longer before changing and sitting on the old alley sofa as we did most nights. Whisky curled up between us, using Jake's jacket as a blanket, with my head on his shoulder. "You know, just for the record," I began softly. "I think you'd be pretty good at that domestic shit."

Jake made a soft noise, letting his head fall over mine. "I think you would be too."

Like most other nights, Jake walked me back to my apartment, whistling at the sight of an empty doorway. I rolled my eyes at him. "That's right, no more babysitters for this girl!"

"Didn't think Dom was gonna let you outta his sight after the rock."

"Neither did I," I admitted. "But here we are. Safe and sound."

He smiled as we reached my door, wiggling his eyebrows. "Gonna invite me in?"

I playfully shoved him. "Goodnight, loser."

*

There was a chill in the air that made my bones feel heavy inside my body as I made my way through the crowd of people making their way toward the entrance to the Botanical Garden. From the gate, I could see the orange and red leaves of the trees and lines of pumpkins highlighting the coming festive season celebrations. Scott stood to the left of the gate, arms crossed as he waited. Jake wasn't with him.

My heart dropped slightly as I approached. "You heard from Jake?"

"Nope," Scott replied. "Looks like it's just us."

I turned, looking out at the sea of faces, hoping to find him among them. I meant what I told him, but still, I wanted him to want this. We slowly started moving, heading toward the Hill and Pond section of the gardens. With every step I took, I sent out a small, heartfelt wish that Jake would come. That his decision would somehow lead down the same path as me.

*

Jake's leg bounced nervously as he twisted the card between his fingertips. Not like he was new to doing dumb shit, but this… This was stupid. He kept repeating what Lena said, that it didn't matter to her if he decided not to join them, but somehow that just made him more confused. 

Simone would be livid if she found out. When, he corrected. Keeping a secret from her was impossible, especially one like this. Guilt made his chest feel heavy, restricting every breath he tried to pull into his lungs. The last time he did this, Simone was scared… She was heartbroken, thinking he was abandoning her after all she had gone through with Etienne, Tess, and Howard. He couldn't make her feel like that again. 

Jake knew he wasn't abandoning her, but the memory of her raw, vulnerable expression of support was enough. At the expense of the cook's respect for him, he hadn't been able to go through with it then with Scott. Why did he think now would be any different? A soft noise drew his eyes up at the man standing beside him, with long hair and slightly wrinkled skin. He bowed. "Is this seat taken?"

"Knock yourself out," Jake replied, still feeling breathless by the crushing weight of this choice.

The man sat, dark eyes looking at the card in his hands. "Are you a fan of the gardens?"

Jake's brows scrunched together. "What?"

He pointed to the card. "The Hill and Pond garden. A staple of Japanese culture in the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. Are you a fan of this place?"

"Oh," he looked at the card again, shaking his head. "I haven't been."

"Ah, this is your first visit, then?"

This guy was getting kind of annoying. "Yeah."

The man settled in his seat with a smile. "Who is the woman?"

"What?"

"You do not seem the type to enjoy a random trip to a garden," he replied. "I mean no disrespect, of course."

Jake stared at this stranger for a minute before he shook his head again, slightly frustrated that he was even entertaining his questions. Months ago, he would've already told this freak to fuck off. He blamed Lena. Blamed her infectious curiosity and annoying kind-hearted nature. Eventually, he answered, still displeased with the whole situation. "It's not like that. I'm supposed to meet with some people about a business opportunity."

The man nodded. "Ahh, a great blessing."

"Yeah, if I show up."

"Do you not want to?"

"That's not…" He sighed. "I don't know what I want."

The stranger shook his head and held his cane tighter as the bus shifted. "I do not think that is true."

Jake scoffed. "Whatever."

The old man shifted in his seat, looking at Jake with understanding. It caught him off guard for a second. "May I offer you some advice?"

He didn't know what this stranger's deal was. Maybe he was some fake psychic con artist or just crazy, but at this point, Jake figured, what the hell. "Sure."

"It can be dangerous, walking through this life uncertain of where you are heading. Unsteady feet make it easy for others to sway you down paths you do not belong on."

Jake pulled his lips together, nodding along with the nonsense the man spoke. He held in a laugh. "That's vague."

The man laughed. "Life is often vague. Especially so when you are following the path of another."

"You think I'm not on my own path?"

"I know it," he replied. "I was like you once. Confused. Angry. Uncertain."

"And how'd you figure it out?"

The man touched a small pin on his front coat pocket and smiled. "I had the guidance of a very wise friend."

Jake looked away from him and sighed. "Well, I don't have many of those."

"You have more than you think."

"Do I?" Jake mocked.

The man only smiled at him, rising from his seat as the bus stopped at the gardens. "May I offer another piece of advice before I leave you?"

Jake put his hands up in defeat and sighed. "Sure, why the fuck not?"

"Two kindred souls do not find one another by simple accident." He bowed, the rainbow koi fish pin catching the light. "Kono kaiwa o arigatō."

Jake watched him go, meeting up with a few people in fine black suits that bowed to him as he approached. What the fuck? He stared at the entrance to the gardens, heart hammering in his chest like waves crashing against each other. He felt heavy. Breathless. And it was then, in the midst of an internal storm, that his mind was made up. Seconds before the door closed, Jake got off, walking briefly toward the entrance, each step echoing the one thing his mind and heart could agree on. Lena. 

*

Scott and I sat at a metal table, round with designs of swimming koi fish on the surface. It had to have been custom-built and brought to the location hours prior to the meeting. An array of finely dressed staff stood, perfectly poised around us, ready to fulfill our every request. Scott sniffled the tea they'd placed in front of us both. The fine Japanese porcelain was lined with gorgeous blue designs, cranes and flowers, and fish and trees. It was expensive. A show of good faith that we, as potential partners in business, valued such things of beauty.

It had been years since Mr. Hiragana and I were able to have an actual conversation. So much had happened… So much had changed for both of us. I was looking forward to seeing him outside of the restaurant, in a space where we could talk freely. One fish to another.

As the light October breeze rushed through the trees, I admired our surroundings' beauty. A gorgeous pond of swimming koi was to the right, each ripple glistening in the high sunlight. To the left was a singular path that Mr. Hiragana's associates blocked to ensure this meeting was private. The short cutleaf maples lined the higher ground along the path and shaded the table with their yellowish-reddish leaves and tall winding trunks.

I'd seen trees like them in my time in Japan. While I rarely had time to myself around my mother's scheduling and Tony's "tours", I somehow found time to find gardens to walk through. Aside from hotel bars the gardens were where Mr. Hiragana and I spent most of our short time together. It felt like he was trying to emulate those days walking among the garden flowers and the trees with twisted trunks.

When Mr. Hiragana walked down the path with a gentle smile and his rainbow koi pin, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. He bowed, speaking a calm Japanese greeting, and both Scott and I reciprocated. Gesturing to the table and the spread of finger foods, he joined us. "I hope these small treats have been to your liking while you were waiting."

"I'm not much of a tea fan," Scott began. "But this is decent."

"I am glad. I apologize for my lateness. My bus was delayed."

Scott's eyes narrowed. "You rode the bus here?"

Mr. Hiragana nodded, eyes drifting to the side as another figure turned onto the path. "I quite enjoy it. You never know who you will meet in such a place."

My head turned, and my heart leaped into my throat as Jake stopped next to the table, eyes on Mr. Hiragana. "Son of a bitch."

"Jake." My voice was soft; the incredibly too intimate way his name unconsciously slipped from my tongue made me want to cringe. But, he turned, soft ocean eyes looking at me as he smiled. "You came."

He shrugged, slowly taking the seat next to me. "Figured, what the hell? This could be fun."

I smiled, a warm and intense feeling filling my chest. "I'm glad you came."

"Whatever," Scott replied, looking at Mr. Hiragana. "I wanna get down to business. No more beating around the bush."

Bowing his head, Mr. Hiragana obliged Scott's crass request. "Your food is incredible. Truly art in edible form. I noticed how… Kibishī… Um, strict, the menu is at this 22West."

Scott scoffed. "Yeah, no shit."

“It is an outdated practice, not allowing such creativity to flow. I would see that you receive a more appropriate way to explore your talent.”

“Wait,” Scott leaned forward. “Are you offering me a job?”

Gesturing to one of the associates beside him, Mr. Hiragana placed a folder on the table before us. “Not exactly. I would be more of an investor. This way, you have full control over your menu and budget.”

Scott was the first to look at the paper, his eyes growing wide before he leaned toward Jake and me, showing us the written form indicating just how much Mr. Hiragana was willing to pay for us to start our own business. “Holy shit.”

“Is this for real?”

I looked up at him and bowed. “This is too generous.”

“Nonsense.”

"Why are you doing this?" Jake questioned, an uncertain look on his face.

"A little fish once asked me a question. Simple as it seems, she asked me if I was happy." Tears built in my eyes as Mr. Hiragana smiled at me. "Only then did I realize all that was missing from my life. Because of that little fish and her insatiable questions and bright spirit, I am the man I am today. All of this, my business, my family, it is all because of her." He bowed his head, speaking in Japanese, "A debt I will never be able to repay you, little fish."

"A debt you will never have to repay me," I answered.

Scott and Jake glanced between us, obviously confused, but Scott set the folder back down after a beat. “I’m in. Whatever you want me to do. I’ll do it.”

“I still feel like this is too much,” I replied. “But I would never deny your generosity.”

His eyes shifted to Jake, who looked silently at Mr. Hiragana. “And you? Have you decided what path you wish to be on?”

The response was odd, but Jake seemed to understand as he nodded. “Guess I’m in.”

“Excellent,” Mr. Hiragana said. “I believe you, Ms. Harrow, have a location in mind already.”

“I do,” I answered, slightly surprised he remembered the building I’d spoken of in one of our more recent passing conversations.

“Take your potential partners with you, let them see the place, and then we can discuss the details.” He stood, bowing and taking hold of his cane. “It has been an honor meeting with all of you. I look forward to our future proceedings. Please, take your time and enjoy the park. It is truly a lovely place.”

The three of us sat silently for a minute before Scott asked, “Did that just happen?”

“Yup,” I replied with a laugh. “Well, you guys want to go and check out the place I’ve got in mind now, or did you wanna stick around for a bit.”

“Let’s go.” Scott was on his feet in seconds, already heading down the path toward the exit before Jake and I even blinked.

Jake stood next, quiet and tense, with an expression that made him look like he’d just sucked on a lemon. I nudged him as the two of us followed after an excited Scott. “I am really glad you came.”

He looked over at me and shrugged his shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, it is,” I insisted. “And I want you to know that if you decide you’re really in I’ve got your back.”

“I know that,” he said. “That’s not why I’m… confused.”

“I understand.” My fingers brushed against his as we walked. “I just wanted you to know.”

We caught a cab to the older neighborhood where the tall, long, abandoned building sat in a big empty lot. Trash and graffiti littered the area as we approached the fence. Scott looked around, eyes filled with imagination as he truly looked past everything to see what could be. Jake, however, looked unimpressed as he asked, “Where the hell are we?”

As I slid under the busted chain link fence, I shrugged. “It used to be some hotel, but it’s been closed ever since I can remember. It’s not far from Ozzy’s, though, so there’s a perk.”

The doors were busted open, glass crunching beneath our feet as we walked through the large doorways and into the nearly completely gutted space. Patches of missing walls and peeled wallpaper made it hard to grasp the bigger picture, and the exposed wires hanging from the ceiling and ripping up from the remaining walls made it even more difficult to imagine this place ever being up to code. But I could see it. The dream of a beautiful restaurant with a top-of-the-line kitchen. I could see the dream my dad always encouraged me to go for.

"How much is it?" Jake asked, eyes wandering around the space.

"Free, technically."

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. "Bullshit."

"It's already owned," I clarified.

"Then how are we gonna build anything here?"

"My dad bought it," I said, fingers running over the smooth bar top. It was the only finished piece in the building, long and beautiful mahogany. "He was going to give it to me when I finished culinary school. But... Well, neither of those things happened."

Scott gave me a look. "You wanna use it for this? For my restaurant?"

"Our restaurant. I said I wanted in, and I meant it. You and I can run the kitchen, hash out a menu all that. Or I can take the bar if grumpy Jake decides he's not interested." I gave the quiet man a grin. "Either way, it'd be ours. I'd even put your names on all the papers and shit."

Scott scratched his head and looked at Jake. "What do you think?"

"It's a hell of a space," he said quietly as he moved to observe the bar. "Once you look past the… mess."

"It's in a decent part of town, too," Scott added. "Not too close to anything else to make it hidden but not so far away that we'd miss out on city clientele."

"Oh, there's also a huge parking lot around the side, so you could hire valet." Jake raised a brow at me, and I shrugged. "I told you, the place used to be a hotel." Turning, I gestured to the elevator at the room's far end. "Which also reminds me there's space up top for an apartment or two. Elevator still works, or it did last time I checked."

"Penthouse suite?" Scott laughed. "Your old man really thought of everything, didn't he?"

I smiled sadly, tracing over the initials carved into the bar. "Yeah. He was good at that."

"What's the catch?" Jake asked.

"Don't got one," I replied. "Everything's legally in my name."

Scott looked around a new expression of genuine excitement on his face. "I'm not much of an optimist, but this place is perfect."

I smiled. "No complaints?"

"Nah, not from me anyway." He nodded to Jake. "It's him you gotta worry about stepping out."

I looked at Jake. "Complaints, Mr. Grumpypants?"

He didn't reply immediately, eyes scanning the new space like he was trying to find something to make this whole thing not worth it. After a minute, he shook his head and sighed. "Nope."

"Don't sound too enthusiastic about it," I teased, hoping it would draw him out of the cold exterior he'd had all day.

It didn't.

Jake just rolled his eyes, searching his pockets for a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his lips. "So, what now?"

Scott answered before I could. "Now's the part where you're either in or out. I'm in."

"I'm in," I replied, looking at Jake with an expression as understanding as I could convey without words. I wanted him to say yes - I wanted him to join Scott and me in breaking away from 22West, but I wanted him to do what made him happy. "Jake?"

Scott pointed at him. "No pussying out this time."

Blowing a steady plume of smoke out of his mouth, Jake shrugged, clearly trying to appear as casual and bothered as possible. "Eh, what the hell. I'm in."

Holding out my hand, I grinned. "Partners then?"

Scott shook the outstretched hand first. I lifted my other toward Jake, who rolled his eyes but shook it anyway. "Partners."

"You two gotta shake hands."

"I'm not doing that."

"Fuck no."

This was gonna be fun.

*

Dom leaned against the side of the beat-up truck, hastily sucking in his cigarette smoke as he stared at his bike with a scrutinizing gaze. The damn thing was always having some kind of issue, more lately than ever. A part of him, one ruled by frustration, considered getting rid of it, but the other always reminded him why he kept it.

Still, it was a pain in the ass. 

The warehouse door opened, and Fluffy led Lena inside, laughing at the joke she'd told him. Fluffy raised a hand to grab his attention. "Got a visitor, boss!"

"What are you doin' here?" He asked, blowing smoke off to the side to keep it out of her face as she drew closer.

Lena held up a lighter and smiled. "John left this at my apartment."

Dom nodded. "He's been missing that."

"I can imagine the old goat smokes more than you do." She set it down on one of the tool carts. "Haven't seen you at Ozzy's in a few days. Everything alright?"

He smiled a gesture meant to ease the obvious question she avoided like the plague. "Everything's fine. Drug dealer shir, nothin' for you to lose sleep over."

Lena nodded, trying to cover up the deep sigh of relief. "That's good, I guess."

"You off to work?"

"Yeah," she replied, turning to leave. "Have fun with your drug dealer shit, whatever that means."

"Give those rich fuckers hell, kid," he called out to her, the words tasting like ash of his tongue. Dom felt the cigarette butt beginning to burn his chilled fingertips as he remembered the last time he'd uttered a similar farewell.

"Those'll kill you, ya know," she chided, reaching up to pluck the cigarette out of his mouth and quickly snuff it out beneath her foot.

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Got class today?"

"Yup," she replied, patting her bag. "Shouldn't be gone long, though. That reminds me." She tossed her keys to him. "Take the bike in for me?"

"It givin you trouble again?" He asked, studying the keys.

With a shrug, she hopped down the first step. "You're the mechanic, you tell me."

Dom chuckled, pulling another cigarette from his pack as she headed down the sidewalk. "Hey," he hollered. "Give those nerds hell, Sarah!"

Her green eyes sparkled as she turned and waved at him over her shoulder, blowing her blonde hair out of her eyes. "You got it, big brother!"

Lena turned, her green eyes catching the light as she smiled at him, waving at him over her shoulder. "You got it, Dom!"

The cigarette fell from his slightly shaking hands. Dom stared at the empty doorway for a while after Lena was gone, head clouded with the past. Ryker bumped his shoulder. "You alright, boss?"

"Yeah," Dom replied, though the lie tasted even worse than the memory had. "Let's get back to work."

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fic #jake x oc #jake x lena #sweetbitter lena #lena harrow #jake and lena #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter oc #sweetbitter simone #fuck simone and olive #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter nicky #sweetbitter will #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter tess #chapter 16 #holy shit this ones a wild ride y'all

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 10 | Chapter 12

Chapter 11: Amuse-Bouche

TW: Some sibling boxing, A bit of choice language from Ari and Sasha in regards to our idiots, Howard 😒, a bit of sexual tension, flirting, Jake's gonna have a real HARD time 👀, Lena's gonna help him out... 👀👀, aka bathroom blowjob. This chapter is a bit shorter than normal (like 15 pages, sorry!) And I'm sorry if it reads as kind of rushed, I really wanted to get it out before my surgery tomorrow and it's not a particularly plot-heavy chapter so I figured it'd be alright. I did a quick edit of this so sorry for any mistakes! This chapter does, however, mark the beginning of Spice Town!

Hit. Hit. Dodge. The music blared in my ears, and the wall pictures vibrated with the beat as I danced across the mat. Hit. Hit. Dodge. Sweat beaded down my forehead, making my hair stick to my temples. 

Hit. Hit. Dodge. I breathed in the hot air that tasted like sweat and leather. My mind wandered, the smell shifting in the air with a breeze of alcohol as someone opened the back alley door. A new taste coated my tongue… A cherry old-fashioned mixed with the bitter tang of Jake's cigarettes.

Hit. Hit. "OW!"

Patrick chuckled with an evil grin. "You're distracted today." I threw my punch into his arm, wiping the grin off his face entirely. "OW!"

"Fuck you!" I growled out as the two of us danced in the ring together. "My mind has never been more focused!"

"Focused on dick!"

I landed three hits to Pat's gut before he got me in the side. I raised my fist again when Ozzy's loud whistle stopped both of us in our tracks. "What the bloody hell are you two doing?" He shook his head. "You two know you're not allowed to spar with each other."

"No one else would spar with me," I told him. "I wanted to get a good workout before my shift."

"Don't see why you didn't just call up your little boyfriend," Pat mumbled. I didn't even glance at him as I punched him in the gut. "I probably deserved that one."

Ozzy waved us forward. "Get outta there before you hurt each other. Idiots."

Peter looked up from his newspaper. "Told ya he'd find out. You two are always too much in a ring together."

"You're no better, mister! Why are you letting them pull this in the first place?" Oz asked.

"I'm a recovering cancer patient," Peter said with large puppy dog eyes. "I did my best."

"Bull!" Patrick and I said in unison.

Ozzy rolled his eyes. "Oh, give me a break with those eyes. Lena, go get ready for work. Patrick, clean up your mess. Peter, tell me what horses are racing tomorrow."

We all followed Oz's instructions. I dragged myself up the stairs and threw my sore body into a boiling hot shower with a relieved sigh. The week had been… Interesting since Jake and I's makeout session in the bathroom at Home Bar. We hadn't kissed again, but the urge was always there whenever we got too close to each other. Why does he have to have such soft lips? I whined to myself. And be so good at kissing? And so attractive. With a sigh, I pressed my head against the chilled tile. I had it bad.

I got dressed and bid my little family farewell before quickly making my way to the restaurant. Nick smiled from behind the bar and gave me his usual "morning red" when I passed. Scott and Isaac were bickering about some menial topics when I slipped through the doors and greeted the kitchen. Bitch paused to yell a quick "hey Lena" over their shoulders.

Upstairs the locker room was packed. Everyone was talking and gossiping as they got dressed for their shifts. Sasha leaned against his locker while Heather and Ari shared the couch, priming their looks. "Good morning!"

"Morning, Tiger," they greeted.

I peed Jake's locker and put his jacket inside before making my way to my own and changing into my cooking gear. A few seconds after I put my shirt on, Jake rounded the corner setting his bike in the hall with a smile aimed at me as he entered the room.

“Morning,” Jake mumbled, heading to his locker.

Still finishing with the buttons on my shirt, I looked over at him. “You look like shit.”

The second his locker opened, he shook his head, grabbed his jacket, and tossed it to me. “Put that back in your locker for me?”

“No!” I hollered, tossing it back at him. “If you wanna sneak your shit into my locker, do it on your own time, pretty boy.”

“Pretty boy?” He questioned with a raised brow.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know you’re pretty, Jake. It’s tacky.”

With a slight tilt of his head and a bright gleam in his eyes, he started taking out his earring. “So I’m pretty and tacky?”

“I don’t make the rules,” I replied, smiling.

Sasha gestured back and forth between us with wide eyes. “Do you believe me now?”

Ari shook her head. “There’s no way.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I’m trying to get these bitches to pay me my money!” Sasha replied with a sigh. “I won the bet. They clearly did the nasty. What more do you want? A photo? Video?” He turned his head to us. “You two didn’t happen to tape you’re very passionate sex, did you?”

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Jesus, he sees one make-out session, and he’s already hunting for porn.”

"Pay up, you nasty vaginas!" Sasha suddenly demanded, holding out his hands to Ari and Heather.

Heather shook her head. "Not a chance. One make-out session does not equal them fucking."

"Of course they fucked!" He insisted. "I was there! I saw them with my own two eyes! There is no way they didn't hook up after getting caught like little vandals!"

Ari glanced at me, eyes trailing up and down my form for a minute before she looked at Jake, squinting slightly. "I gotta go with Heather on this."

Sasha scoffed. "Excuse me?!"

"Look!" Ari insisted on pointing to Jake's back as he lifted his shirt over his head. "No claw marks, and he's only got two hickeys on his neck. Lena looks like the type to mark her territory." She smiled at me. "And our Tiger only has one little hickey on her collarbone with none on her boobs. No teeth marks either. Jake's a hungry boy," she smirked wider. "No way he's leaving a meal as fine as that without a few nibbles."

"Wow," I deadpanned. "You guys are bigger idiots than I thought."

“Tiger, tell them!” Sasha begged.

I gave him a loving pat on the cheek. “Sorry, dear Sasha, but you’re gonna lose your bet.”

He groaned loudly and slapped Jake on the shoulder. “I blame you!”

“Me?” Jake questioned. “The fuck did I do?”

“Nothing! That’s the point!” Sasha sighed. “It never takes you this long to seal the deal. Not even with the chittering baby monster.”

With a shrug, Jake nodded to me. “Take that up with her. I woulda fucked her months ago if she would have let me.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Am I?” Jake chuckled. “Sorry, princess.” He looked over at Sasha with a shit-eating smile. “Fuck off, Sasha.”

“Thank you,” I hummed.

Sasha pointed to us before scoffing and muttering insults in Russian as he made his way out the door. I searched through my locker, hunting for my hairbrush before sighing and looking at Ari. “Do you have a hairbrush I can use? I can’t find mine.”

She hopped up and retrieved one from her locker. “You know, for someone whose apartment is spotless, you’re kind of shit at keeping track of your things.”

“I’m very organized,” I argued. “I'm probably taking shit home by accident.”

"So organized of you," she teased, heading down for family meal.

Once Jake and I were alone, that familiar air of sexual tension settled in the room. We likely would have acted on it a few times if it hadn't been for Simone and Olives' impeccable timing. The two of them came in together, making light conversation and putting a minor feeling of division between Jake and me.

Things between him and Simone were tense recently, but that didn't seem to stop the two of them from holding conversations with one another or joking in their free minutes. It made sense, given the nature of their relationship, but it still made me feel nauseous. I left the room while they talked and went to the long table for the family meal.

Howard set a glass of wine cow in front of me, gesturing to the glass with a smile. "Go ahead."

Swirling the liquid briefly, I lifted it to my nose and smiled at the light smell of lemon and the fruity notes of toasted apple. “1999 Dom Perignon Sparkling Wine.” I lifted the glass, sipping the sweet and flavorful liquid with a smile. “Amazing.”

“It’s your favorite,” Howard replied, examining the bottle.

“You remembered that?” I asked with a laugh.

He set a hand on my shoulder and shrugged. “I’ve got a good memory with important things like this.”

From across the table, Jake scoffed as he took his seat next to Simone. He drank the wine in his glass, glaring at Howard the entire time he went over the events of the night's service. It should have made me roll my eyes and call him ridiculous, but the small and majorly insignificant jealousy Jake felt whenever Howard came anywhere near me made me feel light and giddy. It was dumb. We weren’t dating; we weren’t anything… but I still smiled down into my glass. 

Service was a blur as I hopped between line and dish, helping out in any way I could before Howard instructed me to restock the glasses at the bar. I grabbed one of the clean racks and carefully moved to the side of the bar that usually wasn’t so busy. Unfortunately, I practically tripped over the body blocking the doorway. Jake quickly lifted the counter for me and helped me slide under while he continued to speak to the man in the way. “How much?”

“A thousand.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jake smiled and shook the man's hand. “Same place as last time?”

I glanced at the two of them, meeting his friend's eyes as he shamelessly checked out my ass. “Yeah… Hi.”

Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I turned my head away to refocus on stocking the shelf. “Hi.”

The man groaned and leaned forward on the bar. “I’m Tommy.”

“Nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Jake shifted closer to me, giving his friend an exasperated look. “Really, man?’

“She yours or something?”

“No,” we said simultaneously, glancing at one another for a quick second before looking away. 

“You should come tonight,” Tommy said, his eyes having difficulty focusing on my face as he admired my figure. “We could definitely use a girl like you livening up the place.”

Jake’s jaw ticked as he snapped in his friend's face to get his attention again. “Lay off, Tommy. I’ll be there at nine.”

Tommy gave Jake a look before he nodded. “Alright, fine, sounds good.”

I resumed my simple task as Jake maneuvered around me, serving a few drinks before leaning back against the bar shelves beside me. “Sorry about him. He’s kind of a sleaze.”

“I’ve been working bars since I was fifteen, Jake. I’m used to a few choice comments from a few choice sleazeballs.” I offered him a smile, gently nudging him when the stern look on his face didn’t ease. “Relax.”

“You should come, though,” he suddenly said.

“Oh?”

“It’s some stupid warehouse party. I’ll be working,” he replied, acting as though he hadn’t entirely meant to invite me. “But you could hang out… maybe dance while I do that.”

With a thoughtful hum, I stacked another two glasses before looking up at him and batting my eyelashes. “You sure I won’t annoy you?”

Jake smirked, cocking his head with a slightly raised brow. “Oh, I’m positive you will.” His tone was low and teasing but held that thinly veiled sensual energy that made me feel breathless and wanting. “But I don’t mind.”

I held his gaze as I shrugged. “It could be fun. Would you dance with me?”

“I don’t dance,” he answered, blatantly ignoring one of the guests trying to get his attention.

“Shame,” I replied. “It would have been a good excuse to get up close and personal with me.”

His mouth twitched into a genuine smile before he concealed it beneath that shit-eating grin. “I can think of plenty of excuses to get up close and personal with you, princess.” I grabbed hold of the now empty dish tray and turned my head away from him, moving to return to the kitchen. “Are you gonna come?” He called out, watching me go.

I looked over my shoulder and nodded. “It sounds like fun. I’ll be there. Nine, right?”

Jake nodded. “I’ll meet you outside. It's kind of a shit neighborhood."

“He says to the boxer,” I teased. “See you there.”

The night dragged on, and I glanced at the clock impatiently with each passing minute. This wasn’t a date. Of course, it wasn’t, but my heart still pounded like it was one. Isaac caught me in yet another turn to look at the ticking clock and slapped my arm with a towel. “The hells your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem,” I hissed back at him, rubbing the red spot on my arm. “Just ready for the night to be over.”

He narrowed his eyes at me but returned to work without more questions. I continued to speed between line and dish the rest of the night until, at last, a spotless kitchen graced the kitchen staff's eyes. “Looks good, everyone. Now let's get the fuck out of here,” Scott praised, heading up the stairs already half out of his coat.

I changed quicker tonight and slipped out the back door without even bothering to meet up with the rest of the group for after-shift drinks, knowing full well Sasha would just use his annoying pestering to pry information out of me. 911 dress emergency, you free?

Quinn would likely be at work, but knowing her, she’d have a dress that I could borrow on hand. Absolutely. Head to the club. I’ll be on break in fifteen. Details as payment, though.

Deal.

The club was packed with a large crowd when I got there. Security helped me slide through to the back room, where I sat in Quinn’s makeup chair and waited for her to get done on stage. She hurried through the door and threw on a robe before she jumped into searching her dresses. “Hey, how's your night?”

“Slammed,” she replied. “But I’ve already made a hell of a paycheck, so I won’t complain.”

I fiddled with the makeup brushes on her desk until she set a red dress on the rack next to me. It was a relatively simple design, deep red with a generously low cut top and two strategically placed strips of seethrough lace on the sides. “Oh, you’re pulling out your good shit?”

She nodded, moving around me to grab some makeup. “Duh. This is for a date, isn’t it?”

“No,” I answered. “Jake just invited me to some warehouse thing he’s working at tonight.”

“Soooo a date…” she replied, holding my chin in her hands and working on my makeup without a second thought. 

“It’s not a date.”

“Yeah, and you’re just friends.”

“We are-”

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” she sighed. “Now, hold still, so I don’t fuck up your face.”

She gave me a dramatic look with red glitter and big clunky stars shimmering on my cheekbones and temples. It was one of her go-to night-out looks, and while it was a bit much, it would likely make me impossible to miss tonight, even for a bartender. Quinn’s nose scrunched up as she smiled. “Perfect. Now go get changed and get your cute ass to your date.”

“It’s not a date!” I hollered as I slid behind her changing screen.

“Whatever!”

Stepping back out, donned in the soft gown, I posed. “How do I look?”

She pulled my hair free of my ponytail and floofed it up before nodding. “Very hot. Extra fuckable.”

“Thanks,” I pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Maybe stop by when you’re done here.”

“Sure thing, text me the address!”

Outside the club, Dom sat on the back of his bike. When he saw me, his eyebrows rose. “Got a hot date or something?”

I shook my head. “I’m just going to some party.”

“Where at?”

“Some warehouse in Queens.”

He shook his head. “Hop on. I’ll drive you.”

I gave him a look. “Why?”

“Queens is Eddie’s turf. So I just wanna make an appearance, you know, make sure him and his boys are on their best behavior while you’re there.”

“How sweet.”

“New-”

“Newbies get the helmet, I know,” I said, sliding on the back of his bike and pulling the helmet over my head.

*

Jake stood outside the warehouse, listening to the loud music blaring in his ears as he smoked. Lena said she would be there, and if he were being honest, the anticipation was killing him. Ever since they’d kissed on the Ferris Wheel, it had been nearly impossible not to kiss her every time she looked up at him through her thick lashes. Whenever she and he were alone in a room together, he had to either keep his distance or fight internally over whether he should kiss her. It was obvious she wanted to kiss him. While he enjoyed knowing she was just as affected by him as he was by her, it made the whole situation more complicated.

He heard the familiar roar of the drug dealer's bike and watched the man pull into the parking lot with Lena hugging his back. From where he stood, he could tell she was dressed in red, a color he appreciated more each time she wore it. He’d practically dropped his cigarette when she stood up and slid the helmet off. The dress was low cut and hugged her figure perfectly, but the sides really killed him. The sheer lace brought out her creamy skin beneath the dress and accentuated her not wearing underwear. God damn this woman, he cursed, taking a long drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot. She’s gonna fucking kill me at this point.

*

Getting a ride from Dom turned out to be a lifesaver. The streets were crowded with taxis as we wove through and made our way toward the old neighborhood. Once we’d parked, he made eye contact with a few bikers across the parking lot, standing next to the club while I got off and held his helmet back to him. “Gimme your arm,” he instructed, pulling out a pen.

“Seriously?” I asked while still following his order. “I’m not fifteen anymore, Dom. I know my way around.”

He drew the four-leafed clover on my wrist with his messy phone number above it. If lost, call Dom. It was something he used to do every night I came to him looking to get fucked up, and back then, it’d actually saved my ass more than once. He smiled and nodded toward the club. “Tell the kid I’ll kill him if he lets you get into trouble tonight.”

I turned around, flipping him off. “I’m not telling him that!”

Jake stood next to the entrance, cigarette embers still flaring at his feet as he looked me up and down and clapped slowly. “Damn, you really showed up trying to make me look like shit, huh?”

“I think you look fine,” I answered, smoothing my hands down his leather jacket. His eyes focused on my lips. “We heading in or what?”

I could tell for a split second he’d wanted to say no, but he nodded, turning and grabbing my hand as we walked toward the door. The bounders knew him and let us both pass straight through. It was exactly as the name implied. A sizeable empty warehouse filled with shitty lights and speakers, a band with a bar on the opposite end, and makeshift shelves filled with booze. Jake led us through the dancing crowd, carefully looking back to ensure I was still close by, even though he’d held my hand.

His friend, Tommy, stood beside the bar, instructing the second bartender as Jake slid his jacket off and handed it to me. “Watch that for me?”

“Sure thing, master bartender.”

Rolling his eyes, he tapped Tommy on the shoulder, and the two conversed for a minute before he noticed me. Then, with a sly grin, he elbowed Jake. “I knew you wouldn’t pass up a chance with that.”

“Fuck off,” Jake brushed off, jumping into work, taking drink orders, and quickly making them. Sitting at the bar in front of him and watching him mix drinks like he did every night shouldn't have been so fun, but it was. I especially enjoyed the moments of free time he’d get to lean over the bar and make me custom drinks with flirty winks and the unique brand of sexual tension we’d basically trademarked. After a while, I slowly made my way onto the dance floor, letting go of the stress that life had been building up to give in to this one night of fun.  

*

He couldn’t help but stare at her as she moved on the dance floor. Her wild hair and equally free spirit were something he rarely got to see at work, and fuck did he enjoy it. Most girls - people in general - looked ridiculous trying to dance in clubs, but Lena made it look sensual and fun. 

“Would you dance with me?”

“I don’t dance.”

“Shame. It would have been a good excuse to get up close and personal with me.”

He’d said he could think of better ways to get up close and personal, but now that he was here watching her move in that dress, his mind was blank. Finally, the man bartending beside him nodded to the dance floor. “She your girl or something?”

Without thinking, Jake nodded. “Or something.”

Lena turned and smiled at him before disappearing into the mass of bodies. “I can handle shit here if you wanna take a break.”

“Thanks,” Jake replied, moving around the bar as quickly as possible to seek her out on the dance floor.

*

Swaying with the music, I lost myself to the beat. It felt fucking amazing to let go and have fun. It felt more amazing when Jake’s familiar hands settled on my hips, pulling me back into him as he pressed his lips to my shoulder. “I thought you don’t dance.”

He grinned down at me, leaning in close enough that I could practically taste him. “It looked like a good excuse to get up close and personal with you.”

“You’re clever.”

“I try,” he replied.

The two of us moved against each other, our bodies creating a sinful and very dangerous friction that made a buzz of pleasure settle in my gut, slowly winding more and more as his hands roamed my body. Looking up at him as he danced beneath the lights, I really wanted to throw out my stupid notions of keeping our friendship intact. Instead, I wanted to jump into his arms… wanted to kiss him until we were tearing each other's clothes off. And if the dark hunger of his gaze meant anything, he felt similarly.

A few minutes later, I felt him press me unbearably close, so close I couldn’t help but moan at the unexpected action. Jake’s head pressed into the back of mine. “Fuck.”

“Wha-” I turned to ask, only to catch a quick glimpse of him hurrying through the crowd toward the bathrooms. He stumbled, nearly tripping as he practically shoved people out of his way. Something must be wrong. Following him, I called out, “Jake!”

He practically slammed the bathroom door in my face as I shoved through. “You should head back to the bar.”

“Are you alright?” I asked, watching him lean over the sink, sucking in deep breaths of air. I locked the bathroom door. If he was fucked up on something, the last thing we needed was some couple coming here looking to fuck. 

"I'm good," Jake practically groaned.

I touched his shoulder, pulling him to face me so I could try to figure out what he was fucked up on. "What do you need? Water? A hospital?" His eyes slid down the length of me, pupils blown wide and a light sheen of sweat beginning to glimmer on his skin. His chest rose and fell in rapid breaths. I pressed my hand to his chest, unintentionally pushing myself closer to him. "Your hearts racing. What the hell did you take?"

He said nothing for a minute as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back with a quiet "Fuck."

"Ja-" The question died on my tongue as the unmistakable outline of his fully hard dick became impossible to miss.

"I’m not high," he explained tensely. "I didn’t plan on being in such a confined space with you looking like that."

I looked down at the form-fitting, short, mostly sheer dress Quinn had given me to wear tonight. "Oh."

He chuckled. "Yeah, oh. I just need a minute."

I don't know what came over me; maybe it was all the shit pent up throughout our months-long flirting. Maybe it was just my body craving the chance to give him the pleasure I knew he wanted. Or maybe it was the way Jake looked beneath the dim lights in the dingy basement bathroom, head thrown back, sweat rolling down his throat, his hands gripping the sink so tight his knuckles turned white. Whatever it was made my lips move without consulting my brain. "I could help you."

"Not much you can do in a situation like this."

"There's one thing I can do."

He looked back at me, disbelief evident in how his face scrunched up. "What?"

"Are you seriously going to make me spell it out for you?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you want a blowjob or not?" I asked, point blank, looking down the length of him, eyes settling on the thick outline of his dick straining against his jeans.

He tilted my chin up, dark eyes examining my face closely. "Are you high?"

"No," I answered.

"Drunk?"

"No." I laughed softly. "I can leave you to figure it out alone if you’re not interested."

"I just want to be sure you know what you're doing."

"Does it look like I don't know what I'm doing?"

"No," he replied. "I don't want to take advantage of you." His face was smug as ever, but the tone of his voice held the sincerity the rest lacked.

I pulled myself closer, watching his eyes follow me, looking at me as if I was the only thing he cared about. "How about we set some ground rules then?"

"I'm all ears," he said, throat bobbing.

"First, let's not make this weird. This is just one friend helping out another." Jake chuckled but nodded in agreement, eyes settling onto my lips as his head unconsciously tilted forward, chasing them. “Second, no kissing on the lips.”

That made him scoff. “What, like we haven’t made out in a bathroom before?”

I rolled my eyes, setting my hands on the flat, lean-built plane of his abdomen. “If I kiss you, this will turn into more than a quick blowjob in some shitty club bathroom real quick.”

“Glad to know you find me so irresistible,” he breathed out. “Any more rules?”

"Just a small assurance. If I feel like you're taking advantage of me, I'll let you know, and I expect you to do the same.” His look felt deeper than what I could see on the surface. Jake looked like what I’d said. The simple and basic principle behind successful hookups or sexually charged favors between friends was something he’d never heard of before now. It made me sad, thinking of how his mind likely went to Simone and just how neglectful she was of the stability of their odd relationship with one another. I pushed it aside, now more set on showing him what a healthy moment of intimacy between two people looked like. “Now, do you want my help with your problem or not?"

"I'm all yours, princess,” he whispered, voice lacking all sarcasm that generally came with the nickname he’d given me months ago in Cape Cod. It was an admission. Pure and honest and more than enough to flood me with desire.

With a soft smile, I leaned in closer, chest to chest, hands fisting lightly in his shirt. Our lips nearly brushed as I looked into his darkened eyes and whispered back, “Good.”

I moved my lips to the side, pressing them to his jaw and slowly working my way down to his neck. My hands slid down to his belt, slowly undoing the fastenings and loosening the tightness of his pants just enough to bring him a moment of relief. He sighed, mumbling a quiet “Fuck.”

His head tilted back, giving me unrestricted access to his neck as I smiled against his skin, carefully palming him through his jeans with one hand. “Don’t get too excited tough guy,” I teased before latching my teeth around that irresistible, glinting, pierced ear. Then, moving my lips back to his neck, I sucked a new bruise into his delicate skin.

“So much for being discrete,” he chuckled, audibly biting back a moan.

“We haven’t been discrete for months,” I noted, working on undoing his jeans. “A few hickeys won’t be anything new.”

He watched my face closely, still searching for any sign of doubt. I appreciated it, but he wouldn’t find any. I wanted this. More than I thought I had. With the front of his pants open, my hand slid down, gliding gently down his length and pulling a long low moan out of his throat. God, I wanted him to make that sound all the time. I slid my hands into his jeans, pulling the fabric down just enough for his dick to spring forward, free of his underwear. 

Jake was well endowed, something I’d assumed but still somehow hadn’t really been prepared for. His eyes shut, and his breath quickened as I slid down his body. I pressed gentle kisses and quick bites to his neck before running my hands up his shirt and dragging my nails down his chest as I slid to my knees. I was no stranger to a quickie in some shitty club bathroom, but this felt different. I was far more focused on Jake’s face and the noises he made as I stroked him rather than his actual dick. 

I licked the underside of his cock first, enjoying the way he flinched and bucked closer to my face. God, he’s so pretty when he’s this desperate. Then, swirling my tongue around the pulsing, leaking tip of his dick, I closed my eyes to listen to the noises he made. Sex with men was usually quiet, especially oral activities, but Jake wasn’t like most men. He was shameless in the moans and whines and whimpers he made, and I couldn’t get enough of it. After making sure he was nice and slick, I slowly began bobbing up and down, pushing him further into my mouth until I reached the perfect spot where the tip of him just barely hit the back of my throat.

"God, you're perfect," he groaned, hands burying themselves in my hair. I expected Jake to be a puller. I expected him to want total control... To use me. But he didn't. Instead, his hands held my hair back, and as I looked up, the reason became clear. Jake wanted to watch me. He wanted to see my face.

I’d given guys blowjobs in bathrooms before, but it had never felt so intimate. They’d cared more about the feeling of my hot, wet mouth around their dicks than they cared about me. They hadn’t ever even bothered to look at me. I held his gaze as I bobbed my head, taking more of him into my mouth each time. Those eyes alone would undo me.

Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and Jake carefully brought a hand out from my hair to dab them dry. “You’re doing so good,” he praised. Oh fuck. His hand in my hair tightened, tugging on my roots just enough to send a lightning strike of pleasure shooting down to my core. I moaned around him, bringing another ragged moan out of his chest. His free hand cupped my jaw, gently kneading the muscles as his hips carefully met my mouth with eager thrusts. 

My hands came up to rest on his thighs, squeezing them and using them as support as his movements grew harder and sloppier. “Lena,” he whined, supporting himself on the sink and throwing his head back. “God… I’m close.”

I slid my hands up his thighs to rest on his abdomen. I could feel the muscles beneath his skin tighten each time he thrust into my throat. His breaths grew more harsh and labored. Just a few more thrusts and he’d be there. I hummed around him, dragging my nails down his stomach and taking hold of his arms, using them as leverage to pull myself closer until I was gagging on him. Then, with one last, deep thrust, he spilled down my throat. “Fuck!”

Swallowing every drop he gave me, I sat still, letting him carefully release my head before I pulled back, licking the tip of his cock for good measure. He panted above me, eyes boring down into mine as I slowly rose to my feet, using him to steady myself as my slightly numb legs wobbled. His head dipped down, the urge to kiss me plain on his face as he settled for dropping his head to my shoulder. “Holy shit.”

“Did that help?” I asked hoarsely. 

“Absolutely,” he answered. 

I couldn’t fight the proud smile on my lips as I squeezed his arms and pulled away to stand beside him, straightening myself up in the mirror. “Good.”

Still catching his breath, he pressed his chest to my back, lips skimming the back of my neck. His hands squeezed my hips, gently pulling the material of my dress up before I stopped him. “You’re not gonna let me repay the favor?”

“Not tonight,” I breathed, glancing at him over my shoulder with a smile.

Jake shook his head. “So what, you’re just gonna blow me in some bathroom and not let me pay you back?”

I fixed his jacket and belt, nodding. “Yeah.”

“You’re something else,” he replied.

“Something good, I hope,” I answered. “I’ll let you clean yourself up a bit. See you back at the bar, pretty boy.”

As I walked out of the bathroom, savoring the lightheaded euphoric feeling of Jake and I’s… activity in the bathroom, Quinn smirked at me from the bar. I slowly settled into the seat beside her, watching her pull a small tin from her purse and pop it open. “Mint?” I didn’t look at her as I accepted the small pungent candy and popped it into my mouth, wincing slightly at how it mingled with the salty tang left by Jake. 

“Well, that was impulsive.”

I shook my head. “Not a word, Quinn.”

“Oh, I’m not judging!” She assured me. “Lord knows I’ve given a lot less pretty guys blowjobs in club bathrooms. I was just making an observation.”

Jake slid back behind the bar, whispering a few words of appreciation to the other man working for covering for him. Then, he stood in front of us and leaned against the bar. “Didn't know you were coming."

"Wow, not even a thank you for dressing your girl up for you?" She scoffed. "I see how it is."

"Having fun, Quinn?”

She smirked. “One of us certainly is.”

“Need a refill?” He asked, brushing past her blatantly obvious taunt.

“Always,” she smiled even wider. “I am so glad you invited me tonight. Now I get dibs on the teasing.”

I shook my head at her. “Tease away.”

Tease, she did. For thirty minutes, she gave Jake and me her best material. She covered bathroom blowjobs, the ever-popular “just friends” comments, and more, but unlike the other times, she’d teased me there wasn’t any of the shameful weight. But, of course, I wasn’t hiding my attraction or feelings for Jake now, so her teasing ultimately made us both chuckle.

When the night finally ended, Jake walked me outside and waited for me while I hailed a cab. I nudged his shoulder. “Are you going to Ari’s big show thing this weekend?”

“Normally, I’d say fuck no,” Jake replied, grinning. “But now I know you’re going.”

“You don’t have to come just for me.”

“It could be fun,” he insisted. “Besides, she always throws a party after at her abandoned hotel, and that is always a good time.”

I smiled at him as the cab pulled up beside me. “Then I guess I’ll see you there.”

He lit a cigarette and placed it between his lips. “Maybe I’ll get to repay that favor I owe you.”

Favor seemed like a far too nice word for what I knew he had in mind. “Goodnight, loser.”

“Get home safe,” he answered, watching the cab pull away before he started hailing one of his own.

My apartment was quiet, filled with the soft white noise of my old TV playing in the living room while I changed and got ready for bed. I’d just gotten a glass of water when a loud engine speeding across the street sent me ducking for cover. I curled up on the floor, my back pressed tightly into the back of the couch as I listened, holding my breath, to see if the car would make another pass. 

Have you seen his car recently? I texted Dom with shaking hands.

His reply was almost instantaneous. No, why? Did something happen?

I forced an even breath out. No. I just thought I heard it drive by.

Stay put. I’m on my way.

Dom arrived at my apartment within a matter of minutes. He carefully drove through the neighborhood a few times, scanning the parked cars and the surrounding streets before he parked his bike and came to sit beside me on the floor. “I didn’t see anything, but I’ll stay the night to make sure.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I answered softly, holding my legs close to my chest.

Dom leaned forward to meet my far-off gaze. “Yeah, I do. Now go get in bed and go to sleep. I’ll take the couch.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he just rolled his eyes and stood up. He set up the couch and settled into the firm cushions, facing the door.

I reached over and held his hand for a minute. “Thanks, Dom.”

He squeezed it with a smile. “Get some sleep, kid. Nothin’s getting past me.”

That night I tossed and turned for a few minutes before passing out, knowing the truth of Dom’s words. Nothing was going to happen while he was here. Nothing ever did. For a minute, I could just close my eyes and forget that there was even a problem… for a minute, I could just go to sleep like an average person. I knew deep down it wouldn’t always be so easy, but I would pretend tonight.

#fic: nightshade #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #jake smut #sweetbitter jake smut #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter jake x oc #tom sturridge jake #jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter lena #tom sturridge fanfiction #jake and lena #lena harrow #sweet bitter #tom sturridge #sweetbitter #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter sasha #i will cry #sweetbitter will #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter nicky #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter original characters

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 8 | Chapter 10

Chapter 9: The Peach Soiree

Dress Inspo for this chapter

TW: Simone's a bitch (we know this), and Olive's right up there with her (so surprising I know xD), mentions of smoking and drinking, mild mentions of nudity & allusions of sex, some mild descriptions of physical pain, mild panic attacks, dirty thoughts, the crew at 22West are THIRSTY! Quinn's running the show and she's wild, truth or dare, and a mild cliffhanger for y'all This chapter is almost 40 pages long so settle in and remember to drink water!

Jake didn’t know what to expect when he’d finally made his way home from the odd, relaxed day with Lena and her mob of family and friends. But he certainly wasn’t expecting Simone and Olive to be waiting at his door. “Fuck,” he cursed quietly.

Simone’s smile was utterly bitter as she looked him up and down. “Finally! So good of you to come home.”

“Relax, Simone, I just took a day.”

“Took a day?” She scoffed. “That’s not exactly what I’d call skipping work and getting fucked up on god knows what all night long.” Olive stayed quiet as she shifted out of the way of the two. Jake opened his apartment door, silently moving into the messed up space while Simone followed hot on his heels. She took one look around and shook her head. “This is just pathetic, Jake.”

He picked the clothes up off the floor before starting on the empty bottles and cans of beer. “Oh fuck off. I didn’t say shit when your apartment was covered in empty wine bottles.”

That made her lips press a tight line as she examined his things, most likely searching for clues about what had set him off. Her eyes went to the little green frog that lay abandoned by his bathroom door, and as she bent over the pick it up, Jake felt a twinge of fear and embarrassment fill his gut. She looked the little thing over momentarily before rolling her eyes and tossing it to the side by the garbage. “So, are you going to tell me why you skipped work?”

“It’s not a big deal,” he replied.

“Not a big deal?” She echoed. “Suddenly, you almost getting fired from the job I have fought so hard for you to keep is not a big deal?”

Jake sighed, quietly wishing he had a beer left to chug. “I’m sorry. It was dumb and reckless, and I shouldn’t have done it. Okay? I know it was stupid, Simone. I just…” He sighed, meeting her pale gaze laced with concern and frustration. “I just needed a day.”

Slowly the blonde woman nodded, though none of her anger or tension lifted. “Well, that’s good. At least you know how ridiculous it was. Where were you?”

“Here,” he replied tensely. “I drank what I had and then went to Home Bar.”

“Do not lie to me, Jake,” Simone seethed, nodding at Olive. “She saw you at Home Bar for thirty minutes before you just left.”

Jake looked the girl up and down, taking in her nervous posture and the slight flush to her cheeks when he looked at her. His memory was hazy at best, but he didn’t remember seeing her. "We fuck or something? That why you’re here?"

"No…” She stammered. “I mean, we kissed a bit..."

"Huh, must not have been very good,” he replied, rolling his eyes and turning his back to the wide-eyed woman. 

He heard the soft noise of shock she made before he listened to Simone usher her out with a roaring applause of thanks and well wishes. His door closed behind her, and Simone sighed. "You just have to be unbearable, don't you?"

“It’s part of my charm,” he retorted, glancing at her as she moved to stand beside him.

“Where were you, Jake?” she asked again, softer this time, vulnerable.

Fucking… She wasn’t going to take this well. “I was safe. That’s what matters, right?”

Simone’s face curled into immediate anger as she shook her head. “You were with her, weren't you?"

"What if I was? Is that really so fuckin horrible?"

"YES, I've told you how I feel about her." She shoved herself away from him with a huff. “You just run around like a stupid dog yapping at her heels and begging her to fuck you!”

"Simone, it wasn't like that.”

"It is exactly like that," she hissed. "It is always like that with you. Because you don't hold anything sacred." She threw her hands up into the air with tears in her eyes. Then, she asked, “Is what we have SO unimportant to you that you can’t do just this ONE thing?”

For a second, he considered bringing up that it wasn’t just one thing… that it had been everything, anything she asked of him for years before now. For one tiny second, Jake considered telling Simone he was doing what he wanted for a change for one tiny second, but he held his tongue and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Simone. I know you don’t trust her and that you’re worried about me. But… Lena’s my friend.”

Simone didn’t like that word, not when Lena was involved. “She is not your friend, Jake. She doesn’t know you! Not like I do!”

“I never said she did,” Jake tried to argue.

“That girl doesn’t care about you. She’s only interested in using you to get what she wants so she can feel better about her sad little life.” Simone’s eyes were wide and tearful as she continued, “She is just going to use you and abandon you.”

This time, he didn’t hold his tongue as he said, “She could have already done all that.”

“What?” Simone asked a little bit, breathlessly.

There was no going back now. “Lena could have done whatever she wanted to me from the start Simone. She could’ve fucked me, stolen my money, got me fired… she could have done anything she wanted from the moment she got here. And… All she’s done is offer to be my friend.”

Simone bit her lip. “That doesn’t mean she’s a good person, Jake.”

“I’m not saying that it’s just…”

“I’ve read her file.”

“FUCK THE FILE SIMONE!” He yelled with an exasperated sigh. “Look, I get where you’re coming from. After all the shit Tess put both of us through… I know how you feel about her and her feelings about you, but please, just leave me out of it.”

“You would choose her over me?”

Jake’s whole face scrunched up as he shook his head. “You and I are… we’re us, Simone. We’re always together, and that’s not gonna change because I have other friends. It never has.”

After a minute of silence, Simone sighed, “I know you, Jake. No one will ever know you the way I do.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “I know that.”

“Good,” she said, composing herself. “Well, if you want to get your heart broken by some redheaded floozy, I clearly can’t stop you.”

“Thank you.” It was likely the best he’d get, so with the air still tense with everything both of them hadn’t said, Jake asked, “So, do I still have a job?”

She nodded. “Of course you do. Tomorrow and no more showing up late, Jake. I mean it.”

Jake nodded, setting his head against hers with a sigh. “Thanks, Simone.”

She only leaned into him for a moment before she pulled away and headed for the front door. “Get some sleep. You’re going to be in for a long few days.”

Bending down, Jake picked the stuffed frog up off the floor and collapsed onto his bed, shutting his eyes with relief. Work was going to suck the next few weeks, knowing Howard and his already strong dislike of the bartender. But Jake didn’t mind too much. He lifted his phone and snapped a picture of the dumb frog, sending it to Lena with a quippy message.

I think she’s happy to see me.

He waited in silence, taking in the nervous tingle of anticipation that filled his gut as he waited for her reply. Then, a moment later, his phone lit up with a shitty picture of her frog, a cigarette poorly taped to its mouth, and Patrick’s bare ass in the background. 

He was looking grumpy, so I gave him a cigarette. P.S. I’m so sorry about my brother's ass blinding you. He strips when he gets too drunk. >:(

He chuckled, shifting to bury his head into his shitty pillows and slowly letting sleep take him.

*

I threw my head back into the mess of pillows as his lips skimmed down my body, tongue darting out to taste the tattoo that lined beneath my breast and down my ribs. His teeth grazed down my sides as he shifted further, burying his face between my thighs and connecting his lips to my throbbing core without a second thought.

My back arched off the bed as his tongue swirled my clit, and his fingers dug into the meat of my thighs, keeping them open for his feast. I moaned as the pressure began to build in my gut, quickly and with no signs of stopping. Then, as my vision blurred, my hands dug into his short hair, tugging at the roots until he was forced to pull away. Then, with a deep chuckle, his teeth bit into my inner thigh, drawing out a loud and uncontainable moan of his name. “Jake!”

His tongue smoothed over the angry mark he left with his teeth as he raised himself over me with shining lips and a smug grin. “Get comfy, 'cause I’m just getting started, princess.”

A loud bang echoed from the bathroom door, pulling my brain out of the hazy heat-filled dream as I sat upright in bed and groggily looked around my room. Patrick cracked my door to the bathroom open slightly and, still half asleep, grumbled. “Sorry, sis. That leprechaun bastard was givin’ me that look again.”

“No problem,” I answered, throwing myself back onto my pillows and staring at the ceiling. “No problem at all…” Fuck.

I didn’t sleep well after that, waking up every hour after from the same dream or one far more heated. When the sun finally rose and lit up my windows, I rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to prepare for a long, exhausting work day. Patrick and Peter groggily joined me shortly. All of us huddled around the sink to alternate brushing our teeth before they headed into the kitchen to make breakfast while I showered. Every time I closed my tired eyes, I could see dream Jake’s smug grin and feel the weight of his body settled over mine. It was infuriating. 

Work tonight was going to be weird. You're not some lovesick schoolgirl! I scolded myself as I got dressed and pulled my hair back. Jake is still Jake. It was just a dumb dream. A dumb dream he doesn't even know about! I looked into the mirror and ran my hands down my tired-looking face. "Pull it together, Lena. It's not a big deal."

Patrick and Peter were well into the swing of their morning by the time I headed downstairs. "Feelin' okay, girly?" Pat asked, looking around a punching back to examine my face.

Peter, holding two cats in his arms, looked closer too. "You look like shit."

"I didn't sleep well, that's all," I answered.

"I thought I heard you last night," Patrick replied. "Bad dream?"

It was ridiculous how my heart instantly fluttered. "He was fine - IT… IT was fine."

Peter smiled, leaning back against the front counter with a lanky finger in my face. "I know that look!"

Patrick's bellowing laughter echoed off the walls as he grinned ear to ear. "Ohhh Lena had a sex dream!"

"Shut up," I grumbled, petting one of the cats as I approached the front door.

"Weird, I thought your little boyfriend would have been better than fine."

"Shut up!" I hollered at them again, hurrying out the door. "Nosey assholes."

The restaurant wasn’t too busy, judging by the normal-looking pace of the kitchen. Still, Will quickly informed me I’d be a server as Mr. Hiragana would be dining tonight. It was bittersweet. On the one hand, I looked forward to seeing an old friend; on the other, I had to be a server for the night. So, I went about my routine, stuffing Jake’s jacket back in his locker - after hunting down Sasha for the new combination - and getting changed to look presentable for the guests.

I set the tables and polished the salt shakers, somehow keeping my head down enough that the sassy bartender hadn't noticed me yet. Simone seemed to hover closer to the bar than usual, making small talk with Jake and instructing Olive in that tone that made a chill run down my spine. She sent me cold, unmasked glares every time I passed by, but I could glare too. There was no hiding between us now. I knew what she was, and she knew it. What was odd was how Olive seemed to hop on board with Simone's hatred of me.

The brown-haired girl kept Jake busy enough so no conversation could be had between us, and soon service was in full swing. Once the guests arrived, and no one was around to distract Jake, I could feel his eyes on me as I worked. On a typical night, I would've just brushed it off. But with the vivid dreams still lodged in my brain, every look he gave me made everything tingle and burn. It was pathetic.

Fifteen minutes before Mr. Hiragana's reservation, I was helping stock the bar as everyone else was tending to the guests. Jake watched me refill the ocean with a smirk. "You look tired."

I nervously laughed it off. "Yeah, Patrick's a handful when he drinks. Always thinks leprechauns are messing with him."

"That sounds like a very entertaining sight," he replied. "Mind going down to the cellar and grabbing some more champagne?"

"I've got a few minutes," I answered, moving around Nicky. 

"Thanks, princess," he called out, continuing to mix the drink he was making. My heart hammered, and that stupid feeling, hot and needy and definitely NOT what I wanted to feel, swelled in my gut again. "Get comfy, 'cause I'm just getting started, princess." I could see the dream as if it had been real, as if I'd watched some movie centered around Sasha and Ari's deprived notions of Jake and me.

Thankfully the chilled wine cellar alleviated some of my discomfort. I grabbed the champagne and lingered for a minute before returning to the bar. Jake's smile didn't help, and the way his fingers brushed against mine as he took the bottle from me made things much harder to ignore. Jake had brought a blush to my cheeks with a cute tilt of his head and a crooked smile. 

How did this happen? I asked myself as I watched him flip glasses in the air and twirl a knife or two between his fingers to give the guests seated in front of him a good show. I used to be battle-hardened. It took far more for pretty bartenders to make me blush than a damn smile. I wanted nothing more than to slam my head into the top of the bar because the answer was blatantly obvious. 

Those other pretty bartenders weren't Jake. They weren't nearly as funny, caring, or pretty as he was.

"Lena," Roslyn - the hostess - called out, nodding to the door. "Your VIP is here."

"Thanks," I whispered, approaching Mr. Hiragana at the door. Then, with a deep bow, I greeted him fondly. "It's a pleasure to have you back so soon, Mr. Hiragana. Your table is right this way."

He bowed with a deep smile, gently taking hold of my arm as I led him through the commotion of the restaurant up to the second floor. "It is good to be back among familiar company."

Once he and his guests were seated, I took their wine order and recommended food Scott had added to their custom menus. He chose a Japanese wine and one of our more expensive bottles. Then, with a humble grin, he nodded to the woman beside him. "My wife has a taste for French vintages. A taste my daughter and son seem to have developed as well."

"The French vintages are quite flavorful. We have some of the best in our cellar."

"And, tell your chef to make us whatever he desires." Mr. Hiragana smiled. "I wish to see what one forged from this… Place has to offer."

As I slid through the kitchen doors, Scott sighed. "What's the order?"

I shrugged. "He says he wants you to cook whatever you want."

"Seriously?" Scott deadpanned. "Anything I want?"

"That's what he said," I replied. "Give 'em hell, Chef."

For the first time in a while, I saw Scott smile. "Alright, listen up!"

The wine cellar was quiet, the only place one could describe as peaceful during the insanity of service. I grabbed the two bottles of wine and headed back to Mr. Hiragana's table to find Olive talking next to them. If it hadn't been for the tight face of Mr. Hiragana's wife, I would have let it slide. But, instead, tapping her shoulder, I asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm just ensuring our guests are cared for," she answered. "They didn't have any food or wine yet."

I held up the bottles, “I was getting them from the wine cellar.” I moved to pour them when Olive took one out of my hands and uncorked it quickly and clumsily, trying to pour some into one of the tall glasses. Mr. Hiragana beheld the lack of technique and lack of his traditions with a sad look. "Olive," I hissed. "The kitchen probably needs a follow."

She looked at me with a scoff, bumping the table softly and sloshing wine all over Mr. Hiragana's wife. Then, with a startled noise, she apologized, lifting a napkin to try and clean her off. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the unhappy woman. Then, I held the rag out to her with a deep bow. "My most humble apologies. Our new trainee can get carried away." She took the rag with a quiet thanks. "There is a restroom just down this hall if you wish for privacy."

"Thank you," she whispered. 

After showing her to the bathroom, I led Olive back to the kitchen, soaring Jake a frustrated look and shaking my head, and slammed the dirty tablecloth onto the counter. "What the hell was that?"

"I was just trying to help."

"Help who?" I demanded. "You made them uncomfortable and insulted them. And now you've embarrassed a soigne guest. Who does that help?"

She shifted on her feet, blinking rapidly as she tried to find a justification for her actions. "Simon says every guest is soigne and that the only way to learn is by doing."

I rolled my eyes. "You are not a server. You are a back waiter, and you are supposed to follow your trails and learn. You shouldn't be doing anything without supervision."

"What's going on?" Simone asked, regarding Olive with a gentle look.

"Your trail just royally fucked up on one of the VIP tables." So I grabbed new place settings.

Simone Questioned Olive gently before she shook her head. "Mistakes happen. I'm certain you are perfectly capable of placating your guests."

"Just as I'm certain you're capable of teaching your trail how to pour a glass of wine properly," I retorted, moving past them and quickly resetting their table. "Forgive me again for the blatant misjudgment of our new trainee. Please accept our humble apology for a complimentary bottle of wine to take home."

Mr. Hiragana bowed his head slightly. "Very generous of you. Please, relax, Ms. Harrow. We understand the intricate workings of this enterprise and thus understand there are bound to be some… Fuck ups."

I laughed at his abrupt switch to English and smiled. "I'll go check on your food."

Scott was hunched over the plating take when I returned to the kitchen. He didn't look up when asked, "The fuck was all that about?"

"Olive," I replied. "She decided my VIP table looked neglected and took it upon herself to badger them."

"Fuckin idiot." Straightening up, he tossed a rag over his shoulder and motioned to the plates. "Your VIP ticket."

"Thanks." I grabbed the plates and moved swiftly up the stairs, only to find Olive again looking over Mr. Hiragana's table. She was profusely apologizing as she set random plates in front of them.

Mr. Hiragana shook his head as he spotted me. "I do not believe this is for our table."

I set the correct plates in front of them without a word to Olive, explaining the custom dishes while now holding whoever's food this was and bowing. "Please enjoy your meal, and let me know if there's anything else we can do for you." Then, with a thin smile, I motioned Olive toward the stairs. "Follow me. Let's figure out where this food goes."

Jake shook his head and rolled his eyes from behind the bar as Olive and I started down the stairs. The slight bump against my back was enough of a shift to knock my feet out from under me. My vision blurred as the edges of the world flew past. It felt slower, as falling always did, dragging out the sheer adrenaline rush as the body prepared itself for the incoming pain the ground had to offer. 

The plates shattered first, loud and attention-grabbing. I hit the ground only seconds later, my ankle twisting as I tried and failed to catch myself on the railing. Instead, my side slammed into the edge of the stairs, jagged and breath-stealing as I tumbled the rest of the way down, landing almost face-first in the mess of food, broken glass, and cutlery. Still, for a split second, the pain rattling through my bones was one of cold snow soaking through my clothes and the harsh sting of my skin skidding along the pavement.

"Lena!" His voice echoed in the quiet night, colder than the snow beneath me. I forced myself to my feet, ignoring the blinding pain to push myself toward the blurred images of burly men and shining metal. Behind me, I could hear his car door slam shut and practically feel his footsteps closing the distance between us. "Get back in the fucking car, or so help me god, I'll break every bone in your fucking body!"

Blood ran down my chest as I pushed myself to move quicker, swallowing the dry lump in my throat and using my pain to call out. "Dom!"

The hazed figures all moved, but my eyes were focused on one among them. The one I knew was going to put an end to this. The raw, animalistic growl that echoed behind me brought tears spilling from my eyes. "LENA!"

Once the ringing in my ears faded, I could make out the fake concern of the customers as they all rose from their seats to get a better view of me on the ground. The second sound I heard was the clattering of abandoned objects at the bar as Jake rushed to my side. I could make out my name on his lips, but I didn’t hear it the first time. He looked over my arms and hands, checking for blood before he turned with a deep scowl toward the brown-haired girl that stood frozen on the steps behind me. “What the fuck was that?”

“I-I…” She stammered. “I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Watch where you’re going!” He yelled. I grabbed his arm, still breathless and dizzy, as he pulled me to my feet. I tried to shake it off, to smile at the guests, and play it cool like all these people didn’t just watch me fall on my ass, but the second I tried putting weight on my foot, pain shot up my leg and nearly took me to the ground again. “Put your weight on me.”

Ari brushed past us, smiling and waving off everyone's concern. “She’s alright, everyone. Please return to your meals, and your servers will bring by a bottle of champagne compliments of the house.”

Jake shoved the kitchen door open, towing me with him. Scott turned and looked at my hobbling self before tossing his knives. “What the fuck happened?”

“Dumbass new girl pushed her down the stairs,” Jake answered, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. He cursed quietly and shifted to bring an arm beneath my legs, swinging me up into his arms.

I winced, the aftershock of my side hitting the steps sending a jolt of pain up my ribs. “Fuck!”

“Sorry,” he said, moving quickly up the stairs and carefully toward the break room to set me on the couch. I forced myself to breathe evenly, forced the unpleasant memory of that night to fade back into the deep recesses of my mind. Jake's hands moved closer, and it took every ounce of control I had not to flinch. 

He took hold of my face, and his blue eyes examined mine, probably trying to see if I’d hit my head. Once he seemed satisfied I wouldn’t pass out, he moved, propping my foot up on the coffee table and unlacing my shoe. “Anywhere else hurt?”

Fumbling slightly, I pressed a few fingers to my ribs, testing the bone beneath the very obviously bruised skin. “Just my ribs. Nothing’s broken, though.”

He carefully peeled my sock off and held my swelling ankle in his hand with an angry shake of his head. “Stupid fuckin bitch.”

“It was an accident,” I told him, trying to get him to calm down enough to avoid trouble the remainder of the night.

“Sure as fuck didn’t look like one from where I was standing.”

“Jake,” I said softly, tugging on his shirt to get him to look at me. “I’m okay. Just a few bumps and bruises. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Will walked briskly through the door with concern creasing his face and making him look older. “Anything broken? Any bleeding?”

“No, and no,” Jake replied tensely.

“I’m fine," I said again, though it was more to Jake than Will.

Will shook his head. “Howard’s dealing with Olive right now. Obviously, you’re cut for the night, so you can rest up here til the end of service, or we can call your brothers-”

“No.” I shook my head and chuckled. “They’d just blow this all out of proportion. I’m fine. Really. I’ll just hang out til after service, and we can all head to Ozzy’s and deal with it there.”

“Okay. I’ll grab you some ice.”

With a bitter laugh, I looked down at my clothes, thoroughly covered in food and sauce. “How do you like my outfit?”

Jake chuckled, still tense and very obviously angry. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Grab my spare clothes out of my locker?”

He opened the locker and fished out the small bag of clothes I kept in case of an emergency like this one. Then, tossing me my shorts, he set the regular shoes and socks on the table next to my feet before he clicked his tongue. “Looks like you’re short a shirt.”

I grabbed the bag from him and dug through the extra socks with a frustrated sigh. “I must’ve taken it home to wash. Fuck!”

“Relax,” he urged, moving to his locker and pulling his shirt out. “You can just wear mine.”

“You only have one, though,” I said.

Jake smirked, raising his eyebrow at me. “Been rifling through my locker?”

I bit my bottom lip and shrugged. “I did kind of steal one of your cigarettes a while ago. Noticed then that you don’t keep a change of clothes lying around.”

“I live on the edge,” he replied, tossing me the shirt. “I’ll just wear this shirt home tonight.”

“Thanks.” I accepted his offer, not having other options besides walking around topless. His shirt was soft beneath my fingers. I took one quick moment to appreciate the gesture before realizing just how intimate it was. With that came the blushing and the slight uptick in my heartbeat. I extended my arms out to him, trying to push past the pure elated feeling that came when his eyes met mine. “Help me to the bathroom, please?”

He helped keep me on my feet until I reached the tiny bathroom off the side of the locker room, where the sink would suffice while I changed. Unfortunately, once I peeled the sticky shirt off and wiped the sauce splattered onto my skin, it became evident that my bra was fucked for the night. "Fucking…" I grumbled, unhooking the same thing and tossing it into my pile of clothes.

It felt good to finally change into a comfortable pair of shorts and Jake's even softer shirt. His cigarettes and spicy cologne almost smelled like citrus filled my senses as his shirt hung loosely on my frame. You're here, I told myself. You're safe. I looked at myself in the mirror for a minute, silently cursing how obvious his black shirt made my nipples look, but it'd have to do.

When I hobbled out of the bathroom, Jake moved off the wall and helped me back to the couch, where he drank in the sight of me in his shirt for a minute or two. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Before you say it, I'm not wearing a bra. Damn sauce soaked through my shirt and ruined it. So yes, those are my nipples, and no, we will not make any comments about it."

He bit his lip, clearly keeping the wide range of choice words to himself. "Alright." He sat down next to my foot and propped my leg up with the old cushions of the couch. “That feel any better?”

With a content sigh, I melted into the couch. “A little.”

“Ice,” Will announced, tossing the bag to Jake, who situated it on my ankle. Then, with a nervous look aimed at the bartender, Will cleared his throat. “We should get back to work.”

Jake looked up at him and scoffed. “You’re fuckin kidding, right? She just fell down the goddamn stairs, and we’re just gonna leave her up here for another two hours?”

“Hey,” I hissed at him, leaning over to shake his shoulder. “You, of all people, need to be worried about your own ass.” Jake rolled his eyes. “Please, Jake. I don’t want you to get fired because of me.”

We stared one another down for a minute before he finally nodded. “Fine. But if you feel like you’re gonna pass out or anything, fuckin yell to someone, okay?”

I smiled at him, squeezing his arm. “I’ll be sure to scream your name.”

That broke the tension. He chuckled, eyes flickering down to my chest and my obviously peaked nipples beneath his shirt. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

Being left to quietly rest in the still bustling and insane workplace felt weird. As I sat there, counting the scuff marks on the lockers, I couldn’t help but feel bad that I was forced to sit out because of some dumb accident. The ice slowly numbing the pain in my ankle was a nice distraction from that feeling. My eyes closed after a while, the smell of Jake’s cologne slowly easing me into a relaxed state while I waited out the rest of the service. Of course, my brothers were going to be pissed. Peter especially.

He never really got into why he held such a deep resentment of this place and Howard, but this wouldn't exactly make it better. I always assumed it was just the memory of the side of our family that didn't want him. When our parents divorced and custody came into discussion, my mother told my dad she only wanted me. Said she'd leave him everything else if he gave her majority custody over me, or she'd take everything he had, including my brother.

It was a decision my dad held a lot of guilt about. One I didn't know he'd even had to make until I was almost eighteen. But whatever the reason behind my brother's attitude toward it all, I just had to trust he'd tell me if or when I needed to know.

"How's the ankle?" Howard asked, startling my eyes open and up to the doorway he appeared in with hardly any noise. Slowly he stepped into the locker room with a tight smile and his hands clasped in front of him.

I sat up and offered him a shrug. "Nothing too bad. It should be fine by tomorrow if I'm careful with it."

Howard nodded, his eyes fixed on my leg propped up on the old coffee table and a bunch of cushions. Before they moved up, seemingly settling on my stomach or chest. "And the ribs?" His long fingers extended down, running lightly over my foot, down toward my ankle, moving the ice pack and applying light pressure as he tested the swelling. It sent an uncomfortable shiver up my spine. "Well," he said, pulling his eyes from my chest to my leg. "You've had worse."

"Yeah…" I replied stiffly. "Don't worry, I won't sue or anything."

"I wasn't worried about that."

I smiled a bit tensely. "I'm alright, Howard."

The commotion of the others clamoring up the stairs seemed to snap him out of his daze-like state. Howard made his way out the door, nodding to everyone as he passed them. Ari and Jake looked after him with deep-set frowns. Finally, Jake turned to me and gestured to Howard. "What'd he want?"

Shrugging, I replied. "Dunno. Probably wanted to check in to make sure I wasn't thinking about suing."

"Well, if he's ever bugging you, just say the word."

"Yeah, 'cause beating up the manager that didn't fire you is such a solid plan." 

Jake rolled his eyes as a quick look filled them as if he'd just remembered something. "I've got you to thank for that. The asshole said it was you that changed his mind."

My eyes furrowed. "When was this?"

"This morning at my disciplinary meeting," Jake said, looking over his shoulder to smirk at me. "So, thanks for having my back, princess."

God damn, that fucking nickname. I smiled back, praying that I wasn't blushing too hard. "Well, it wouldn't exactly be fair if I didn't use my Glover reputation to pull some strings every now and then."

Everyone changed into their casual clothes quickly and started filtering downstairs for drinks. Ari plopped down on the couch next to me, shaking a bottle of pills. “Need something to take the edge off?”

“No thanks,” I answered. “Will’s ice pack helped with most of the pain.”

Will gave me an awkward finger-gun motion before he shook his head. “Why did I do that?”

Jake was the last to emerge from the bathroom, now dressed in his simple jeans, work shirt, and jacket. He grabbed his cigarettes from his locker and stuffed them into his pocket before standing beside me. I smiled and opened my arms wide. “Ready to carry me down the stairs?”

“Come on,” Jake replied, hoisting me up. “Let’s go get you a drink.”

Simone and Olive rose from the stairwell the second we walked through the doorway. The blonde woman regarded me in Jake's arms, wearing his shirt, with a tight face and fully clenched jaw. I could practically see the words I'd spoken swirling in her eyes. Jake stepped off to the side, mumbling something about being careful on the stairs to make Olive avoid eye contact with both of us. To my surprise Simone kept her mouth shut as she passed through to the locker room with Olive behind her. If Jake had been bothered by her cold attitude, he didn't express it.

The bar erupted with claps and sarcastic quips as soon as we entered the kitchen doors. I rolled my eyes and flipped everyone off as Jake set me in a chair before he joined Nicky behind the bar to make my drink. Sasha slid in next to me, throwing an arm over my shoulder. "How is your little baby ankle, Tiger Bitch?"

"I'm fine," I replied, pointing to everyone else, clearly being back more sarcastic quips at my expense. "You have fifteen seconds to get it out of your system before I start smacking people for bringing this up."

They all shouted their jokes over one another and let laughter fill the room. Roslyn tapped my shoulder and quietly gestured to a man, one I recognized as Mr. Hiragana's assistant. Bowing, I began with another apology, "Please offer my most sincere apologies to your employer."

"Mr. Hiragana does not fault you nor the establishment for the… Turn this evening took. He was more concerned with making certain you were alright."

I smiled at the enduring kindness of my old friend. "I am. Thank him for his concern for me."

"I will," the man said. "However, this is not the reason for my visit." He pulled a card out of his pocket and extended it to me with a deep bow. "My employer tasks me with delivering this to you."

The business card was simple and elegant, with a wild rainbow koi fish drawn on the back with a date, time, and address. "What's this?"

“Mr. Hiragana would like to speak with you when he visits next month,” the man said. “The date and time are on the back of this card. You may bring whomever you wish, but please ensure they know this is a meeting to discuss potential business.”

"Thank you," I said, bowing as the man turned and left.

Nicky watched him leave. "Everything good, Red?"

"Yeah," I answered, running my fingers along the edges of the card, my eyes flickering over to Scott, who drank with the kitchen staff at the end of the bar.

Jake slid a glass of vivid red liquid garnished with two cherries across the bar to me with a smirk. "Your drink."

I lifted the glass to my nose with a smile. "Is this a bourbon cherry old-fashioned?"

"Yep. But, I'm thinking of calling it a bourbon cherry Lena."

"That's really bad," I giggled, taking a sip. It was perfect. The flavors blended together to highlight the cherry without losing the classic aspects of an old-fashioned. With an appreciative hum, I pointed to my drink. "This is really good, though."

Jake bowed, sarcastic and over the top with that shit-eating grin. "Your persistent lack of confidence in my bartending skills is astounding."

"Well, someone's gotta keep you humble," I teased, relaxing in my seat with my drink in hand as Scott stood next to me, asking for a refill of his drink. I looked at him for a minute before nudging him. "Hey, have you ever thought about opening your own place?"

Scott's expression didn't change as he nodded. "Yeah. Almost did a few months ago," he looked back at Jake with a glare, "But someone pussied out last minute."

The bartender just shook his head and flipped Scott off over his shoulder. "Wow, so you two were actually gonna do it?"

"I thought we were," Scott replied, slowly turning to look at me. "Why?"

I flashed the business card. "I think I might have an opportunity coming up. If you're interested in joining me."

As Scott took the card, scrutinizing it, I watched Jake. He'd gotten stiff at mentioning the past would-be business venture and grew even more so when I'd mentioned my upcoming meeting. “I’ll come,” Scott answered after a long pause. “The worst thing that happens is I tell him I’m not interested.”

“Jake?” I asked, trying to gauge his thoughts beyond the tense, tight-faced look of skepticism.

He shrugged, that standard mask of uninterested boredom covering whatever he really felt. "I dunno."

“You have time to think about it, so chill out with the grumpy glare.”

He rolled his eyes, pouring another drink for someone else. “I'll think about it."

Scott rolled his eyes, quickly copying the information on the card onto a piece of paper. "Yeah, whatever."

I decided not to push it, hoping to change the subject to the drink he'd made until everyone was ready to head out for the night. Between Sasha and Jake getting out the front door and beginning the trek to Ozzy's was pretty simple. Waving at Howard as we passed by, I said, "See you tomorrow!"

The walk was challenging when my Russian crutch got distracted by arguing with Heather. After falling behind the group, Jake stopped to shrug his jacket off and help me into it. "Jake-"

"You're shivering," he said simply, leaving no room for arguments. Then he turned his back to me with a pat. "Hop up."

"What?" I asked with a breathless laugh.

Jake raised a brow and nodded to his back. "Hop on my back. I'll carry you."

Fighting against the smirk, I asked, "Are you offering to give me a piggyback ride? Isn't that a bit… Childish?"

"Fine, walk then," he said, straightening up and moving forward to catch up with the group.

"Wait, no!" I stumbled toward him. "I don't wanna walk."

"Now you gotta say please," he taunted.

Giving him my best pouty lip, I looked up into his eyes with a big watery look, hopping closer to him. "Please, Jake… Please gimme a piggyback ride."

He shook his head but turned back around. "Hop on, freak."

I was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was for me to climb onto Jake's back and for him to carry me. His long legs quickly caught us up with the group, and he never faltered or lost his breath. Then, without warning, Jake spun around, forcing me to tighten my hold on him. "Asshole!" I laughed, laying my head on his shoulder, my arms squeezing him tighter around his middle, and cherishing this rare moment of joyful childish fun that made him laugh.

Once we'd gotten to the bar, phase two of firm reassurance that I was, in fact, alright began. Quinn and Prue jumped into sisterly shit talking. Patrick vanished into the alley to recruit Dom's help. Peter and Ozzy examined my ankle and looked over my head in a dizzying mess of hands and questions.

"I'm fine," I insisted, grabbing and squeezing Ozzy's hands. "Seriously, Oz, it's not a big deal."

The old man wasn't convinced. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two." I smiled. "Oz, breathe. It was just a little fall. I didn't even break anything. I'm okay."

He pressed a soft kiss to my head. "I'll get you more ice."

Peter carefully set my leg back into the booth. "I'll run upstairs and grab some pillows."

"That bitch is lucky she didn't follow you guys tonight." Quinn shook her head. "She woulda gone from moon eyes to missing an eye real quick."

I was glad Will had managed to distract Prue to keep the two of them from fueling Quinn's fire. "Breathe, please. You're getting that angry knot in your neck."

She kicked the booth seat with her foot. "Would you just get mad with me for once! You're never on my side with angry shit."

"Uh, the four months I slept missing my eyebrows after your little fire show begs to differ!"

Rolling her eyes, she slid out of her seat to get another drink just as Dom slid into the seat beside Jake. "Hear, you got pretty fucked up by some stairs."

I shrugged. "Or maybe the stairs got fucked up by me." He slid a little pill across the table. "Dom, I fell down a few steps. That's hardly relapse-worthy."

"You think I'm gonna waste the good shit on your sober ass?" He chuckled. "It's a mild painkiller. Stronger than the over-the-counter shit, but nothing addictive."

"You really are the best babysitter," I replied, taking the pill and chasing it with a chug of water.

Dom pressed his fingers to my pulse point, quietly taking note of my still irregular heartbeat. "Call it the Lena special. Holler if you need me." He nodded to Jake with a simple acknowledgment, "Tough guy."

*

After about thirty minutes of sitting, Jake noticed Lena relaxing next to him. Since her fall, she'd been tense with moments of far-off looks and a still, concerning silence. When Dom set the pill on the table, Jake was ready to toss him out of the booth. What kind of dick puts drugs in front of a corner addict? But, when the man explained it to the redhead, and she believed him, Jake dropped it. 

Lena hadn't hesitated to trust the drug-dealing biker when he told her it was a simple painkiller. She'd taken the pill without any signs of worry and had thanked him with one of their inside jokes he didn't fully get. Whatever it was, it helped her relax, putting Jake at ease even just for a minute.

He'd been so angry watching Olive's wide eyes tear up when he yelled at her. Truth be told, Jake was still pretty damn angry. Lena might've believed it was an accident. Still, Jake had noticed Olive's seemingly determined targeting of all Lena's tables throughout the night. In fact, it seemed wherever Lena went during her shift, the "moon-eyed bitch" as her brothers had called her, wasn't far behind her. She had shitty people skills and even shitter serving experience the whole night. That bump that caused her to fall was intentional. He just knew it.

Lena shifted, laying back in the booth they shared and settling with her head on his thigh, looking up at him with a smile. "Comfy?"

"Very," she answered. "You have very luscious thighs."

"Thank you," he shook his head. "Most girls just focus on the raw sex appeal."

Her eyes sparkled at his teasing. "Lucky for you, I'm not like most girls."

Jake couldn't help but admire her looking up at him. His heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, lucky me."

"God, just fucking make out already," Quinn whined across the table.

Lena quickly lifted her hand and flipped her off as Sasha strolled in from the dance floor. "Tiger, come dance with me!"

"Uhh, ankle," she reminded him.

Sasha pulled the redhead up out of the booth with a wide smile. "Come, little cripple, daddy will carry you!"

As he skipped away with Lena tossed over his shoulder, Jake couldn't help but laugh at the Russian's insanity. But, of course, Lena played into it, having fun with Ari, Sasha, and Heather as they bounced around beneath the shifting lights. Her breasts bounced more noticeably in his shirt, free of her bra. She was mesmerizing, especially in his clothes.

“You’ve got it bad,” Quinn said, pulling his attention from Lena to her watching him over the table with knowing eyes.

Jake shrugged, trying to keep himself from looking back at the redhead and the Russian. “I don’t-”

“Oh, stop trying to deny it,” she begged with a groan. “You two are literally the biggest fucking liars!”

He appreciated the strippers' honest bluntness but hardly needed her to point out the obvious. Not when he’d remembered bits and pieces of his drunken night, or more specifically, how he’d thought of almost nothing but her the whole time. He remembered waking up in her bed with her soft, warm figure curled up beside him. Her arms draped over his waist, hands occasionally dipping beneath his pants to settle onto the warm skin of his hip when they apparently got too cold. That morning was the best of his life, and it only further cemented the truth he’d realized trying to entertain Olive. He wanted Lena. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything. 

It was a terrifying truth to come to terms with, but how could he deny it when she was always there? "Sorry."

"Just… Tell me something, honestly, for a change." Quinn nodded toward Lena. "What do you want from this friendship? Casual sex? Some heavy petting?"

"Nothing," he said, the words… The full realization slipped out without second thought. "I just want her. In whatever way she'll have me."

Quinn smiled. "I was wrong about you. When she first brought you up I thought, great, here comes another dick looking for some quick, easy pussy." She shook her head with a smile. "But Lena was right."

He tilted his head. "Right about what?"

"The night she got shit-faced and gushed about you," she clarified. "One of the things she said was that she was convinced you’d turn out to be a big old softie beneath that assholish exterior."

“I’m hardly a softie,” he grumbled.

She just shrugged. “Thanks for being honest. I’ll make sure it’s rewarded when the day of the peach comes.”

He shook his head at her odd phrasing but still muttered quietly, “Thanks.”

When everyone had drank their fill and slowly began filtering out of the bar for the night, Dom sat down next to Lena, who was half asleep at their table. He nodded to the door. “You can head out. I’ll make sure she gets home.” Though he had no reason not to trust Dom, Jake felt an uncomfortable, anxious feeling rise in his gut at the thought of leaving her alone. 

As if Quinn noticed, she patted his shoulder, “Don’t worry, Prue, and I will make sure she survives the night.”

Jake brushed her hair out of her face and smiled down at her. “I’m heading out. Try not to fall down any stairs while I’m gone.”

Lena made a face but smiled at him and gave him a salute. “See you later, alligator.”

*

My ankle was perfectly fine after a few days of lightwork and a fancy seat by the bar with the ever-important task of polishing the glassware. Olive hadn’t attempted to talk to me, not even to apologize, and Simone, oddly enough, kept her distance as well. Jake seemed somewhat concerned, but he never said anything about it, and even though I was tempted to ask, I let it slide in favor of honoring our rule. No talking about Simone. 

The day before Quinn’s big soiree, I woke up to a text message from her. Change of plans. Dress shopping today at 5. Meet at Nana’s for dinner and stay the night at your place?

I groaned from my living room with a coffee in one hand and my phone in the other. Dress shopping with Quinn, in particular, was always fun, but when her party was on the line, our dresses had to be perfect. Sounds good. See you two there.

I spent most of the day cleaning my apartment and pulling my extra pillows and blankets out from my closet to ensure my bed, which we’d all most definitely end up sharing, had plenty for everyone. My little grumpy green Jake sat on my bed while I moved in a flurry of cleaning sprays and dishrags before I eventually paused to dress him up in a little makeshift cleaning outfit and snap a picture to send to Jake. 

He’s not very happy it’s cleaning day.

Dancing to my music, I barely heard my phone beeping as I vacuumed my living room carpet and dusted off my furniture. Jake was at work already - not wanting to get fired really did something for his sense of time - so there was no picture of his matching frog, but rather of Nicky, who looked at his phone with a deep quizzical look and his mouth half open in what I could only assume was gruff “what the fuck are you doing”. Nicky’s equally unhappy about cleaning day.

Texting at work? I’m so disappointed!

Shouldn’t you be cleaning, smartass?

Turning my phone around, I snapped a very shitty, too close, picture of me flipping off the camera with one of my cleaning gloves. I am cleaning, dumbass.

Lookin good in that ugly ass yellow. 

Get to work, Jake.

You texted me. He reminded before sending another message. Have a good day off. 

When it finally came time to meet Quinn and Prue, I hurried out my front door and started walking toward Nana’s. My apartment wasn’t too far from the old neighborhood. I enjoyed walking the crowded sidewalks and experiencing the city's life, which always made it feel so consuming. Everyone walked and talked to those with them or those on the other end of their phones. Businessmen and strippers and con artists, and regular-ass people all walked together in a way that made the city one of a kind. 

The loud roaring of an engine nearly made me cover my ears as my peaceful walk quickly turned to panic. I kept walking forward, eyes now scanning the crowd and the street for both the car and the man I knew drove it, but I couldn’t make out much in the thick group. I hurried my pace until I made it through Nana’s door with a relieved sigh. Tony was bold, but even he wouldn’t risk coming for me at Nana’s, not when at least six of Dom’s guys were here twenty-four-seven. Just to make sure, I looked to his booth and smiled at Ryker and Fluffy before moving to my seat by the wall.

“My Habibi!” Nana cheered, setting glasses and a water pitcher down at my table. “Where are your counterparts?”

“On their way, I’d assume,” I answered, kissing her cheeks as she did mine. “How’s your day been?”

She sighed, wiping sweat from her covered forehead. “Busy! But, as we say, all business is good business!”

Abdul, the large, slightly balding cook with a huge mustache and eyebrows to match, came out from the back and spoke with Ryker for a minute before he stopped by my table with a pat to the head. “There’s the red one!”

“How’s the back, Abdul?” I asked.

“Not so good,” he answered with a deep chuckle. “But I’ll live a few years longer, don’t worry.”

"Sorry, it’s so last minute, but Moe just got in a whole peach-colored shipment that’s going to be to die for, and I couldn’t resist!” Quinn said, sliding into the chair across from me. She looked around for a minute before asking, “Where’s Prue?”

I shrugged. “I thought she’d be behind you.”

We both turned our heads just in time to catch her and Will through the window. Prue’s cheeks were flushed, and Will’s whole face was bright red. Both of them were smiling like idiots. When they parted with a sweet kiss and our little Prue slid through the door, Quinn and I hopped into signing comments to her. She just rolled her eyes and sat down next to us. “Hello, my lovelies!”

“Someone got laid!” Quinn signed, bumping Prue’s shoulder. “How was he?”

Prue smiled sheepishly, the blush on her face deepening. “He was very good.”

Quinn and I made cooing noises at one another as we giggled. “Very good or veerrrryyy good?”

“Veerrrryyyyy good,” she answered. “Let’s just say I was right about that massive snake in his pants!”

We caught one another up about how the rest of our week had been before Quinn smiled evilly. “Whose excited for tomorrow?”

Prue raised her hand. “Me!”

I shook my head, glaring at my friend. “I know you’re up to something. You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

“I always have that look in my eyes,” Quinn argued. “But, you’re right. I do have quite the event planned out. Dresses, dinner, a limo.” She noticed how I visibly stiffened at the mention of the long, hideous car and stopped everything. “Shit, I totally forgot.”

“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I haven’t freaked out over riding in cars for a while.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Yeah, but cars aren’t limos, and I know you’ve got a lot of bad memories in those. I can find another car.”

I smiled. “Quinn, don’t worry about it. I’ll be alright. You two will be right there with me.”

“And Jake will be there too,” Prue noted.

“Yeah, and- wait…” I looked at Prue and signed. “Why would Jake be there?” She bit her lip and looked at Quinn, who sipped her drink. “Quinn. Why would Jake be there?”

“Because I’m going to invite them,” she answered casually.

“Them?”

She nodded. “Yeah, all your coworkers are gonna come with us.”

“Oh my god,” I whined. “Why would they all come with us anywhere?”

“Coney Island is more fun with a big group!” She insisted. “Besides, don’t you want to spend time with your sweet little Jakey?”

I rolled my eyes. “Are we doing this again?”

“Oh, we’re always doing this. Especially since you’re so adamant about lying to my face about how badly you want him.”

“It’s pretty obvious, Lena,” Prue replied.

For a split second, I remembered the dream I’d had a week ago, a colossal mistake on my part as Quinn could sniff out a sex dream miles away. Then, she stopped everything and pointed at me. “Oh my god, you’ve been thinking about him in a not, so we’re just friends way, haven’t you?”

“No!” I lied.

“Give us the deets!”

“It was one sex dream.” I paused. “Okay, maybe like four, but it’s just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Quinn cackled. “Oh, sweet child, it means everything!

I glared at both of them. “Fine. Invite all my coworkers. It’s your day. What you say goes.”

“Damn right,” Quinn agreed with a grin. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.”

“That’s what I am worried about.”

After we ate a quick meal - quick by Nana’s standards - we walked a few blocks up the road toward Moe’s. It was a small dress shop meant to be cheaper than practically everywhere in the city, but most people didn’t glance at it. I’d be the first to admit Moe’s was run down. It had water damage and old dusty decor in the windows, not to mention the smell of old boxes and dust that Quinn liked to call “the mothy smell”. But, despite its run-down appearance, Moe’s was a hidden gem. Oddly enough, the mechanic that sold dresses on the side knew how to find upscale dresses for next to nothing. She was also oddly good at sewing. 

Quinn frequented the small shop often as she was always on the lookout for decent finds she could use in her strip shows. The little bell dinged as we entered through the sticky front door. “Moe!” Quinn hollered into the thin rows of dresses.

“Bout time!” The woman replied, emerging from a sea of red gowns near the back. “I’ve been fending people off those boxes all day!”

Quinn smiled. “There that good then?”

“Of course they are,” she said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “This is my stuff we’re talkin’ bout.”

“Let’s see them then!”

The woman with a slightly hunched back and long braided grey hair waved us to the back. “I’ve got 'em hanging up to get the wrinkles out.”

Past the multiple racks of dresses, both slim fitting and so poofy I could hardly push past them, was the tiny back room with four small changing areas. A multitude of peach-colored gowns were hanging up a rack shoved against the wall. Some were silk, others were satin, and some were soft materials I didn’t recognize. All of them were beautiful, though. 

Quinn smiled widely and wrapped an arm around Moe. “You’re the best.”

“I know. Now hurry up and take your pick so I can get the others priced and out on the floor.”

Since it was Quinn’s day, she got to pick out each dress she wanted Prue and me to try on. It was a long-standing tradition we all enjoyed, but none more than Quinn. She handed a pile of dresses to Prue. “One of these is definitely for you.” She shoved one dress in my hands and winked. “And this one’s yours.”

Looking down at the gown, I could already tell it was going to be revealing, which I wouldn’t have minded much if it weren’t for that look. But she had something planned; I just knew it. We tried on the dresses, and Quinn and Prue gushed over my gown before Moe carted it off to be bagged up for me to take home. Prue’s gowns were flowy and elegant, but the one we both could tell she liked most was a long silky dress with two thin straps and a slightly low-hanging neckline. It accentuated her skin tone and drew attention to her shoulders and back, which we knew Prue liked about herself. Quinn’s was tight with a very chest-heavy corset top and hip-hugging satin material that drew attention to her ass, obviously a winner in her eyes, given the theme of her party.

We brought the dresses to my house and settled on my bed, eating deserts we’d picked up from Nana’s on the way back. Quinn lay in the middle, nearly swallowed by the thick pillows behind her head. Prue was already dozing off next to her, face down into the cushions with the blanket pulled up high over her head. I was lying on my side, facing Quinn, who’d occasionally feed me a bite of the decadent chocolate dessert she’d gotten. I was exhausted after a long day of cleaning and a night of dress shopping. Still, I felt relaxed and even excited about whatever Quinn had in store for us.

My phone beeped at me, another text message from Jake, who, if the picture little green frog leaning back with a too-large beer in its little hands meant anything, had just gotten home. Nothin better than a nice cold drink after a shit night dealing with rich assholes.

I smiled, the simple act drawing Quinn’s attention in an instant. She watched my face as I typed out some simple reply before I looked up at her and laughed. “What?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “Just thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve seen you smile like that over a boy.”

“It’s not over a boy.”

“Oh, so that’s not Jake, then?” She wiggled her eyebrows with a knowing smirk. “What is it with you and that pretty bartender that makes both of you so adverse to just admitting what’s obvious?”

I could have easily deflected, as I had been for months, but as I smiled down at the simple goodnight message from him on my phone, I sighed and decided to lean into the stupidity. Closing my eyes, I finally admitted, out loud to another living soul, “I want him.”

Quinn laughed and ran her hand through my hair. “No shit.”

“It’s different, though,” I said softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything this much, and it’s… terrifying.”

“I know,” Quinn replied. “But it’s all gonna work out.”

Looking up into her bright eyes, I chuckled. “Is it now?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I, the Peach Queen, declare that you will have your bad boy bartender.”

*

I’d spent hours getting ready for yet another reservation at my workplace, but unlike the last time, I was actually nervous this time. The dress Quinn had picked for me was a lot. I wouldn’t be able to blend into the other outfits of black. I was sure to have eyes on me tonight. More than likely, those of my colleagues as well as the rich assholes dining tonight. I focused on my makeup, following the instructions Quinn gave me at breakfast before she left with Prue to get ready. I lined my eyes and smeared the soft shimmery pick over the lid, adding a few dots to my blush to achieve the glow Quinn insisted we needed. After fussing with my hair for an hour and a half, I settled on a simple half updo pinned into place with a peach clip Quinn gave me.

After I got into my dress and smoothed down a few wrinkles, I admired myself in the mirror as I fixed the simple necklaces I’d picked out the other night. It was truly a beautiful gown; the color was soft, the perfect peach tone, and while my whole chest and shoulders hung out, tits threatening to spill from the bodice of the corset top, it was weirdly perfect. Stupidly I found myself excited to see everyone’s reactions to it… mainly to see his reaction. The whole cab ride, I found myself fixing my hair and checking my makeup and everything in between with this giddy sense of anticipation building in my gut.

It was another busy night as I walked through the doors with a smile. Roslyn’s mouth dropped as she greeted me. “Heelllooo! I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone pull off this much tit in such a classy way.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” I answered, turning my head to greet Howard as he swiftly approached.

“Lena,” he said, eyes taking in my outfit momentarily before he smiled. “You look wonderful. I can show you to your table before the rest of your party arrives.”

My eyes flashed to the bar that was absent a dark-haired man. “That sounds lovely; thank you, Howard.”

He offered me his arm, and once I took it, he gracefully led me through the dining room. Every single one of my friends caught a look at me and nearly dropped their server masks. Sasha’s mouth hung wide open for a minute while Ari froze completely, eyes drinking in the sight of my chest. Howard gestured up the stairs, hand squeezing my arm as he whispered, “Careful not to fall.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No one’s gonna let that go, are they?”

“It’ll die down soon,” he assured me with a chuckle. “Just not tonight.”

He showed me the table beside the railing, set with custom peach themed in color and in the literal sense. Candles were lit, illuminating the small basket of peaches and the pink flowers in the center of the table. It was far enough away from other tables that I knew the girls and I would be safe to talk freely about the company we were in. All while also having a perfect view of the bar, which wasn’t important at all. “It’s perfect, Howard. Thank you.”

One of his hands settled on my back as he smiled. “Only the best for our esteemed guests. You know that.”

“Still, thank you for letting me inconvenience you not just once but twice.”

“You’re welcome to inconvenience me whenever you’d like, Lena,” he replied.

I smiled again, ignoring the odd feeling that settled inside me. “I’m going to go wait for the rest of my party. Have a good service, Howard.”

From the top of the stairs, I could hear the hushed whispers of my coworkers around the bar, all talking about me. Ari groaned. “God, she’s so fucking hot.”

“What are we talking about?” Jake asked as he slid back behind the bar with a new bottle of wine.

“Lena,” Sahsa replied. I smirked, leaning against the wall for a minute to listen to their conversation before rudely interrupting.

“Caught a glimpse. She looks good.”

“Good?” Heather scoffed. “She looks fuckable in like the classiest way I’ve ever seen.”

Ari giggled. “When she looked at me, I thought I was gonna pass out.”

“Yes, it’s too bad our tiger bats for the other team.”

“And that she has a vagina.”

Jake’s voice cut above the rest, “Wow, you guys are really laying it on thick about Lena tonight.”

Perfect opportunity for a grand entrance.

*

“What about Lena?” Her voice carried down from the top of the stairs. Jake smirked at their coworkers, ready to spill all the filthy ways they’d expressed their feelings about her outfit tonight before he turned his head to look up at her. Even with their comments in mind, he still wasn’t ready to admit that they were right and bit his tongue to keep from saying the same things they had. Finally, standing at the top of the stairs beside the bar Lena descended, Jake’s mouth did with her.

It wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d grown wings right in front of him or if she was truly an angel in disguise. She always looked beautiful and sexy and everything in between, but here, now, in that dress… Jake couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to, not ever. 

The peach-colored dress hugged her body in a way that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her shoulders were bare; the dress was held onto her by two drooping pieces of fabric that caressed her upper arms as she moved to take hold of the railing and the sheer will of god. The corset top was simple, though it wasn’t the top he was looking at, but rather the deep plunge of the neckline that lifted her breasts ever so slightly. It flowed behind her as her long legs moved down the steps, the fabric bunched at her waist, lifting it up to further accentuate the near hip-high slit.

Lena smiled at him as she stood in front of the bar and leaned on it, causing her half-down red hair to spill over her shoulder. She tilted her head. “What about me?”

Sasha came to his rescue with a grin that was far too smug. “We were just talking about how badly we wanted to fuck you tonight, Tiger Bitch.”

“Oh,” Lena laughed, the sound only tormenting him more. “Thank you… I think?”

Ari looked at her breasts and shook her head. “No, thank you.”

Nicky shooed the group away from the bar. Jake couldn’t bring himself to move… couldn’t look away from her for even one second. Lena’s eyes trailed down, fixating on his chest. He saw her lips move, but he didn’t hear her the first time. Blinking, he shook his head. “What?”

“Your tie’s loose,” she repeated.

“Oh,” he lifted his hands to try and move the stupid thing, but his mind was a blur. All he could think of was her in that dress, was that damn smell of cherries. God, pull it together. It’s just a dress. Just a damn smell. He scolded himself.

Her hands came up to stop him before he could ruin his tie anymore. He hadn’t even noticed her walk around the bar. She smiled up at him, sweet and absolutely too much right now. “Here, let me.”

“You’re a guest tonight,” he said, his voice wavering slightly. “You’ll get in trouble.”

“I’ll be quick then,” she replied with a wink. God… fuck!

She was right the other night. She could have him whenever she wanted; however she wanted. Jake swallowed thickly as her bright eyes flashed up to his. He'd take her here in front of all these guests… all their coworkers, if it's what she wanted. His whole body hummed at the very thought of what she’d look like, that dress hiked up to her hips, bent over the bar, or even better, sitting on top of it so he could see her face. All he wanted was to hear her say the words. He wanted her to want him just as badly as he wanted her.

*

After I fixed Jake’s tie, I ducked out from behind the bar before Howard could scold me. Quinn and Prue arrived shortly after, looking drop dead gorgeous in the dresses they’d picked. Prue’s hair was half down with the top portion braided into a bow, and Quinn’s was loosely braided down her back. They both slid beside me at the bar with big grins. Quinn smiled at Jake. “Having a good night, Jake?”

“Oh, just the best,” he answered.

“Well, let’s go. I’m starving.” She took hold of my arm and tugged me away from the bar and the lingering eyes of the bartender.

We sat down, receiving peach-themed drinks as compliments from the bar, or rather the entire staff that gathered around to bicker about who got to serve our table. Scott took it upon himself to make us an entirely new peach-themed menu that I was ecstatic to try. His talent, with any and every ingredient, no matter how random, never ceased to amaze me. The girls and I gossiped about the rich people around us, playing games centered around making up conversations between tables.

Even with my back to the bar, I could feel Jake’s eyes on me, lingering for a long minute before having to look away to make a drink or schmooze a customer before they were right back on me. It was thrilling, though I’d never admit it. Shifting in my seat, I felt the fabric of my dress dip lower, exposing more of my leg as I took a drink of the sweet peach cocktail and finished my food. “I’m kind of glad you decided to come here. This was amazing.”

Prue nodded, practically moaning with delight as she carefully wiped her mouth. “This was the best meal I’ve ever had.” Her eyes followed Will as he moved across the floor, sparing a wide-eyed, blushing look up at her. “And the staff is just adorable.”

Quinn nudged me. “Go sit at the bar.”

“What?” I asked. “Why?”

“Because I’m the Peach Queen, and I say so.”

Prue giggled. “You did finish your drink. Good thing you know a cute bartender that’d make you another one.”

I shook my head and settled further into my seat. “I’m not going to go harping Jake for drinks while he’s in the middle of service.”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “Fine, you forced my hand. I, Peach Queen, banish thee Cherry one to the bar!”

“Oh yeah?” I taunted. “What if I don’t go?’

“Then I’ll just have to make a fuss and embarrass you.”

She would do it too. She had plenty of times before. And so, I relented, standing up and offering her a mock bow. “As thy queen commands.”

I walked down the stairs carefully, not wanting to risk falling again, and made my way to an empty seat at the bar with a smile. “What are you doing down here?” Nicky asked.

“I’ve apparently been banished,” I answered, drawing Jake’s attention in a second.

“Banished?” he asked, switching places with Nicky. “That doesn’t sound too fun.

I shrugged. “It could be worse.”

He tilted his head. “Worse than banishment?”

“Quinn can be creative.”

“Well, what can I get you?” He leaned against the bar with a glass out, ready for my answer.

“Should I see how many free drinks I can get out of this dress?” I asked with a grin.

Jake’s eyes trailed away from my face, and his eyebrow quirked. “Not if you wanna be sober enough to enjoy the rest of the night.”

Leaning forward on the bar ever so slightly, I tilted my head to the side, only further enticing him. “Oh? You think I’d be that popular?”

“You already are that popular,” he answered, looking around at all the eyes focusing on me both around the bar and deeper into the maze of tables and wealthy people. “Have been since you walked in.”

“Well,” I said, setting my head in my hands. “You’ve got my full attention, grumpy Jake.”

“Do I?” He smirked, tilting his head.

“Yep. So, impress me, master bartender,” I teased.

Jake lived for the challenge as he pursed his lips slightly and leaned toward me. “Just clap when you’re impressed, princess.”

I rolled my eyes but kept them fixed on him as he gathered ingredients and mixed drinks for the guests lining the counter. Sitting on this end of the bar felt surreal, watching him mix drinks with that roguish smile and the flamboyant technique. For a minute, it almost felt like it was my first week again when Jake was fixed on trying to impress me enough to get me naked, only now he didn’t need to mix drinks, force contact, or even flirt with me. The truth, as much as I’d tried to avoid it, was Jake didn’t need to impress me, not when it only took one look… one stupid look to make me melt beneath his gaze. A week ago, I’d teased him about not having to be jealous… about how I could have him whenever I wanted, but only now did I realize that Jake held a similar power. 

He could have me whenever he wanted.

As the guests slowly began to leave, the girls joined me at the bar, Prue taking up Will’s attention even when he had to go do manager things, and Quinn distracting Ari with nothing but her eyes. Isaac’s face pressed against the glass of the kitchen window as he held up Jake’s jacket and waved me inside. I smiled at my plan coming to life, quietly excusing myself to slide into the kitchen. Isaac held it out to me. “Dom just dropped it off. Remind me again why you’re smuggling jackets around?”

“It’s Jake’s,” I answered, heaving toward the stairs. “He keeps giving it to me, so I have to keep sneaking it back into his locker.”

Isaac rolled his eyes. “Or you could just fuck him and keep it.”

“Is the rest of it in my bag?” He nodded. “Thanks for your help,” I whispered down to him as I hurried up the stairs and sneakily made my way to Jake’s locker. I struggled for a minute running through the list of combinations he’d started rotating to try and deter me from sneaking his jacket into his locker.

"So," Jake's voice came from the doorway, so suddenly I jumped, dropping his leather jacket onto the floor.

"Shit!" I yelped, turning to glare at him. "Don't sneak up on me!"

He chuckled, eyes dragging down my body, fixing on my bare shoulders, the deep plunging neckline of the dress, and then finally on my leg, the one exposed by the high slit of the gown. When he finally took notice of his jacket on the floor, his head tilted. "Are you really taking time out of your dinner to sneak my jacket into my locker?"

I scoffed, kicking the jacket behind me with my heel. "No! That'd be crazy."

He laughed, nodding to the still, obvious fabric. "Well, go on, don't let me stop you."

Fucking… I bit my lip and bent over to retrieve it, fully aware of how he drank in the sight of my boobs threatening to spill out of the corseted top. I turned back to his locker and stuffed it inside, slamming the door shut with a grin. "Did you need something? A jacket, perhaps?"

"No, I'm good. Very toasty." He replied, taking a step forward, the wicked smug look in his eyes never fading. "So, the hip, right?"

"What?"

"Your mermaid tattoo," he clarified, taking far too much pleasure in how my face fell with the realization. "It's on your hip."

My hand slapped over the too-high slit that did indeed showcase the tail of my tattoo. "God damn dress!"

Jake leaned back against the locker nodding to my leg. "Show me."

"No!"

"You said you would if I guessed where it was," he argued.

I shook my head, laughing nervously. "I actually didn't. All I said was you didn't already know where it was."

Jake moved even closer. "Technicality. Show it to me."

"No!"

"Oh, come on, princess."

My face burned the closer he got until I finally cracked under the weight of those pretty blue eyes. "Fine, you get five seconds!"

I moved my hand and carefully lifted the slit of my gown to show the intricate mermaid that curved up my hip, tail curling a little over my thigh. Then, in my head, I began to count. One. Two. Th- Warm fingers grazed along the curve of my hip, and every thought stuttered to a halt. Jake was on his knees, eyes taking in the sight of my tattoo with an appreciative gleam. I could feel his breath fan along my thigh as his fingers moved to skim over the inked skin.

"Well, it does certainly look better than mine," he said, looking up at me through his thick eyelashes. I wonder what he’d look like looking up at me from between my- Fuck. 

I cleared my throat and let my dress drop back down. "Yeah, I told you Prue's the best."

"Why a mermaid?" He asked, slowly rising to his feet.

"It's gonna sound stupid," I laughed nervously, scratching my head. "When my mom would… leave me to swim back to shore I... I used to pretend I was a mermaid." There was a soft look in Jake’s eyes, one that made my heart ache. "It made it feel less real... If that makes any sense."

"It makes sense," he assured me, his voice shockingly tender. "And it's not stupid."

“Thanks.” I spared him a quick glance before clearing my throat and asking, “So, is service officially over?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that last table finally decided to leave.”

I laughed. “The very obvious escort date?”

“No, they left just a little bit before the cut-off. The last table was a group of old people that had been complaining all night about every single detail of their service.”

“Damn,” I replied. “Glad I wasn’t working tonight, then.”

He held a quarter up in his hand. “Yeah, that’s the tip I got for the seven drinks I remade.”

I laughed. “It’s certainly a tough time being a pretty bartender.”

“So, what’s next for your little party?” He asked, moving to his locker to change.

I turned my back to him, offering him some privacy, though I knew he didn’t care if I looked. “That’s up to Quinn. But, from my understanding, we’re all going for a limo ride to Coney Island.”

“Sounds fun,” he replied. “You goin' in that, or were you planning on changing into something a bit more practical?”

“I had Dom drop us off some clothes,” I answered, looking over my shoulder to admire his bare back. “So, guess you get to keep your shirt this time.”

He smirked at me. “How relieving.”

After he was decent and putting on his shoes, I slipped into the bathroom with my bag and changed into a simple tank top and shorts with comfortable shoes. I left Quinn’s clothes in the bag and grabbed Prue to take downstairs to her, knowing full well that Quinn and Ari would likely try to fuck in the break room. We headed back downstairs together, Jake letting Nicky leave early. Slowly, everyone changed into regular clothes and gathered around the bar for drinks.

“Now that all of you don’t look so freaky, do you want to come with us to Coney Island?” Quinn asked, wiggling her brows. “The limo rides on me.”

The uproar of the group agreeing to a night of fun was louder than even I expected. Nodding toward the back, I addressed Quinn. “The bag with your extra clothes is upstairs in the locker room.”

“I’ll show you the way,” Ari said with a wink as she dragged Quinn toward the kitchen. 

Will shook his head. “They’re definitely going to fuck in the break room, so,” turning to Prue, he signed. “I can show you to the manager's office so you can change if you want.”

She blushed and bit her lip, grabbing the clothes I’d brought down to her. “Maybe we can do a little more than change?”

I made a face and immediately turned my eyes elsewhere, which just so happened to be where Jake stood across the bar. “I’m guessing it’s gonna be a minute before we head out?”

“Oh yeah. No one go upstairs or in the office for a while,” I warned.

Twenty minutes later, both couples returned, readjusting their clothes and slightly more sweaty than they’d started the night out. We all clamored to Quinn’s limo, where I stayed close to Quinn and Jake to keep myself from giving into the nauseous and painful feelings that made my chest feel tight, and my body want to shake. Though I didn’t participate much in the conversations going around through the group, each one was a welcome distraction, as was Jake’s hand resting next to mine on the small space of seat between us.

*

The thirty-minute car ride was certainly not the worst I’d ever had to live through, but as the limo stopped and we all filed out of the car, I’d never been more relieved to breathe in the slightly salty air. All the anxiety and old memories faded away in the bright lights of Coney Island. We paid for our tickets, and all rushed inside to indulge in the obviously rigged booth games and stalls of delicious food. Will and Prue branched off toward a ball game with stuffed animal prizes, and to my surprise, Jake followed them. 

I stayed with Sasha and Heather, laughing at the Russian’s poor attempts to participate in a shooting game. He cursed the stall attendant out in Russian before we pulled him away. Next thing we all knew, thirty minutes had blown by, and everyone was slowly reconvening at a small area of picnic tables. Sasha, Ari, and I bent over our photobooth picture, laughing at each other's dumb faces when Will and Prue found us, Will’s arms full of stuffed animals. “Look what we won!”

“Did you leave any prizes for the other kids, Prue?” I signed, dodging her attempt to slap my arm.

“Of course,” She replied.

Looking around, I asked, “Where’d Jake go?”

Sahsa smirked. “Knowing our Jakey, he probably found some dirty carnival hooker to fuck.”

I rolled my eyes as the bartender's familiar figure followed just after Prue and Will with a giant stuffed tiger in his arms. “I’m right here.”

“Holy shit,” Quinn laughed. “Where the hell did you find that?”

“One of those cheap-ass games,” he replied, setting it down on the table I sat on top of. “Figured it was only right to win it for our resident tiger.”

“How many tries did it take you to win this?” I asked, admiring the cute face of the animal. “Do we need to chip in on your rent?”

He shook his head and grabbed a cigarette from Sasha, moving to sit down at the table across from me. “It wasn’t that hard.”

When the group had settled down a bit, Heather asked, “Now what?”

Quinn’s smile quickly turned sinister. “We could always play a little truth or dare.”

“God, no!” I pleaded.

“Oh, come on, it’ll be fun,” she insisted.

Sasha blew a plum of smoke toward me. “Come on, Tiger Bitch, have fun with us!”

“Fine,” I huffed. “But don’t come crying to me when she’s daring you to strip for her.”

The first round was tame, most people opting to pick truth over dare, but after the third or fourth round, things quickly descended into Quinn’s madness. She smirked at Jake. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he answered.

"I dare you to take this marker and give Lena a tattoo on her hip." 

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head at her. "Seriously?"

Quinn giggled and grinned while sipping her drink. "What? It’s not like I told him to write whore across your forehead."

“That was one time, and we were sixteen!”

Jake pulled the marker from her fingers and motioned me forward. I lifted my shirt getting ready to pull the waistband of my pants down just enough for the tattoo. Jake tutted. "Other one."

"There's already a tattoo there," I replied.

"Just give me the other one," he insisted with a smile as he took off the lid of the marker with his teeth.

I complied, pulling my waistband down enough to reveal the top half of the mermaid. Jake wasted no time taking hold of my hip in his warm hand and pulling me closer. Quinn winked at me, and I had to fight the urge to throw something at her. The marker tickled against my skin as Jake focused. I shifted slightly, causing him to squeeze my hip. "Hold still."

"Hurry up," I insisted, forcing my voice to stay steady.

He smirked up at me, blue eyes shimmering with smug mischief. "Want it to look good or not?"

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "It's just marker, dumbass. It'll come off in like two days."

"Then I better make it good enough for you to savor, right?"

When he finished, I looked down at the heart drawn in the center of the mermaid's chest with the little J in the center. The sight made every inch of my body tingle as I looked up at him and smiled. "Really?"

He shrugged. "It's a classic."

“Your turn Jake,” Heather said with a smile.

“Sasha,” he called out. “Truth or-”

“Dare. Give me your best shot, Jakey!”

Jake smiled. “I dare you to kiss Isaac.”

Isaac’s cheeks flushed quickly as Sasha wasted no time turning and grabbing his face to press a kiss to his lips. He pulled away, wiping his mouth with pride and settling back into his seat beside Isaac with an arm around the blushing man's shoulders. “Easy! Tiger Bitch, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I replied with a sigh.

He giggled. “I dare you to show us your dirtiest photo!”

“That’s not so bad,” I replied, pulling my phone out to find the old picture of me lying in bed in a lacey bra with a cherry between my lips. “I sent this to a guy I hooked up with years ago.”

Sahsa took the phone and purred in delight, passing it around the group. Quinn nodded. “That was a good picture.”

“The guy you sent it to sure liked it.”

Once it got back to Jake, he looked at it with an approving nod before handing me my phone. “Not bad, princess.”

“Okay, Ari. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she answered with a grin.

I hummed for a moment before asking. “Who here would you most like to sleep with?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “You, of course, beautiful.”

Quinn scoffed. “Excuse me!”

“I’ve already slept with you,” Ari replied, kissing Quinn’s lips. “And I’m gonna do it again later.”

“Fair point.”

The round continued for a while, eventually landing on Prue and then on me. “Have you ever fantasized about a coworker?”

Oh, you fucking bitch, I thought to myself. “Yes, I have.”

“Who?” Quinn egged on. 

“Sasha, of course,” I deflected, pinching the Russian’s cheek. “Quinn, truth or dare.”

She bat her eyelashes. “Truth.”

“Describe your first kiss,” I said with a grin.

“You’re a cunt,” she replied before diving into the very awkward story of her first kiss. "Truth or dare," Quinn asked with a newfound gleam in her eyes I'd seen one too many times before. She was up to something big now. And if the wink she sent me meant anything, it was something I would have to kick her ass for.

Jake shrugged, blowing a plume of smoke out the side of his mouth. "Dare."

Leaning forward, my friend smiled even wider, wicked and deeply pleased with herself as she declared, "I dare you to kiss Lena."

My heart stopped beating for a moment, only kickstarted when the ocean blue of Jake's eyes slid to mine. "That's-"

"It's-" we stammered at the same time.

Sasha laughed. "I think the stripper wins."

"No," Jake told the Russian, eyes never leaving mine. "I'll do it. That is if it's alright with you, Red."

I swallowed and shrugged. "It's just a game. I don't mind."

He handed the cigarette to Scott and slowly approached me, moving to stand at the table's edge. His hands curled around my hips, pulling me closer until I was flush against his chest. A sharp gasp echoed between us as my dumb body arched into him. Rough fingers lifted my chin, forcing me to look deeper into his eyes.

"Don't get too excited, princess," he whispered. Oh fuck. On instinct, my legs moved, trying to press my thighs together and alleviate some of the burning pressure that shot right down to my core. Unfortunately, Jake's waist made that problematic.

My legs squeezed his hips, bringing that smug smile to his face as he stared me down. His fingers squeezed my chin as he leaned in close. Our lips nearly brushed one another as the smokey tint of his breath fanned across my face. At the last second, his grip on my chin tugged, and my head turned ever so slightly to the side as he kissed my cheek.

Sasha booed loudly as air finally filled my lungs again. Jake pulled away, his eyes looking me up and down for a moment, the dark, blown pupils drinking in the sight of me, blushing cheeks and still slightly arched back. God, this is just getting pathetic. He slid out from between my legs and smirked at Quinn. "You never specified where I had to kiss her."

"Cheeky boy." She shook her head.

Jake looked off toward the food stalls. “As much fun as this game is, I think we should indulge in some food before they close.”

Everyone but Ari and I jumped up to grab food. Isaac promised to bring me back food if I saved his seat, while Quinn offered to get Ari’s food for her with a loving look and a gentle kiss on her cheek. Once she turned away, I saw Ari’s face drop slightly. “Hey,” I called over to her. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Ari,” I pressed gently, patting the table beside me.

With a sigh, she moved, sitting beside me and looking up at Quinn. “How long before she gets sick of me, realistically?”

My brows furrowed as I turned to her. “What do you mean?”

“Quinn is… She’s amazing. Beautiful and talented and smart and funny. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” She shook her head. “And I don’t have a lot more to offer her.”

“You don’t have to offer anyone anything to be important, Ari,” I said with a smile. “Quinn doesn’t give two shits what you can offer her. She likes you because you’re you.”

Ari shook her head, wiping the tears away from her eyes long before they could fall. “No one likes me because I’m me. Not even my own parents.”

“Fuck your parents.” She laughed, looking at me with sad eyes. “Sometimes our parents are the ones with the problem. My mom’s a cold, stuck-up, perfectionist bitch that didn’t give two shits about me no matter what I did. Back then, the best thing I ever did was let go of what she made me feel I lacked.”

“How do you do that, though?” Ari asked softly. “How do you let go of the years of pain and neglect and…”

I shrugged. “With a lot of reassurance from good friends. And, lucky for you, there’s an entire mob out there willing to reassure you every second of the day.”

Ari laid her head on my shoulder and smiled. “Thanks, Tiger Bitch.”

“You’re welcome.”

She and I sat there for a while, waiting until the rest of the group got back with their cotton candy. Quinn instantly took notice of Ari’s downtrodden mood and came to lift her spirits with a kiss and a bite of the sticky sweet sugar. Jake sat down next to me, holding a giant ball of cotton candy. He held it out to me. “Want some?”

I looked at the sheer size of his treat and laughed. “I guess. Did you pay extra for them to make it as big as Sasha’s head?”

“I heard that!” Sasha shouted.

“No,” Jake replied, taking a finger full of the fluffy candy. “They just really liked me.”

“Ah, so it was a group of women then?” I teased.

With a scoff, he said, “I’m attractive to every gender.”

We laughed together, sharing the shitty spun sugar until Prue pulled me from the table and quickly signed. “The girls are riding the Merry-Go-Round. Come on!”

“Okay, stop pulling!” I turned to look back at Jake. “Don’t let Sasha steal the tiger!”

He shook his head but pulled the giant stuffed thing closer to him anyway as he watched me get dragged off toward the enormous horses. Ari and Heather chose the ugliest horses they could find, while Quinn, Prue, and I gravitated to ones a few rows down. Prue’s was a unicorn with little rainbow flowers in its hair. Quinn’s was hot pink with giant eyelashes. And mine was a simple black horse with a little blue saddle. Prue sat beside me while Quinn’s was slightly in the front, forcing her to sit backward on it to look back at us. 

I narrowed my eyes and looked between the two of them, saying and signing, “Why do I feel like this is an intervention?”

“Cause it is,” Quinn replied. 

“It’s about Jake,” Prue continued giving me that look.

I sighed, slumping into the pole. “Guys, how many times do we have to do this?”

“You want him,” Quinn said, leaning over to grab my pole to steady herself as the ride began to move. “You told me you did. You know you do. So stop fucking around and go get him!”

“It’s not that simple,” I argued.

“Yes, it is,” Prue interjected. “You are always telling us to go after what we want in life, even if it’s hard or gets messy or doesn’t work out how we want it to. This is no different.”

Quinn grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “If you don’t give whatever this is with you and him a shot, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life. You know that.”

With a low groan, I shook my head and sighed. “I hate when you two use my own logic against me.”

They both shrugged, smug and self-assured, as we got off the ride and rejoined the bulk of the group. Sasha practically collapsed into Heather with a giggle. “Well, I think this amazing night of filth and fun is coming to an end.”

“Yeah,” Scott agreed. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Anything else anyone wanted to do before we head out?” Quinn asked, slightly elbowing me.

I looked up at the giant Ferris Wheel and shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve always wanted to go on the Ferris Wheel.”

“Never been on one before?” Jake asked, emerging from the group next to Will and Quinn, still holding the big stuffed tiger he’d given me that I’d shoved into his arms when I’d rushed to join the girls on the Merry-Go-Round. 

“Nope,” I answered. “No one ever wanted to come with me.”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “Those things are death traps! I refuse to be a statistic!”

Tossing the tiger to Will, Jake headed toward the giant wheel. He looked over his shoulder and smirked. “You comin' or what?”

I ignored Quinn’s urging whispers and fell into step beside Jake, the two of us quietly getting in line and waiting our turn. It wasn’t a long wait, being so late into the night, and before I could change my mind, we were being strapped into the slightly too small seat and told a rush of basic rules before the jaunty music began to play, and the wheel started to turn. The lights and laughter echoed up to us as the wheel screeched to a halt with our cart near the top. This is so cliche, I told myself, quietly wondering if Quinn and Pure would go this far to get me to act. They would. I knew they would. What was irritating, though, was how well it worked.

From up here, everything and everyone seemed so small. The noise was distant enough that I could only focus on Jake sitting beside me, thigh pressed into mine. His blue eyes lit up so beautifully as he stared out at the sea of activity below. I cleared my throat before saying, "This turned out to be pretty fun, all things considered."

He nodded, eyes still taking in the sights below us. "Yeah, I think the most questionable part of the night was truth or dare." Then, chuckling, he shook his head. "I knew Sasha was deprived before, but wow, I severely underestimated him."

"Yeah," I agreed, laughing with him. I took a deep breath and just decided to commit. Fuck it. "You know, for a minute, it seemed like you were actually gonna kiss me."

Jake turned, and those gorgeous eyes met mine. Tilting his head, he shrugged a shoulder, trying to seem unphased. "For a minute, it seemed like you wanted me to."

"I did." Okay… There it is, I guess… My heart hammered in my chest as the casual look on his face shifted. My mind immediately started reeling, searching for a way to backpedal the conversation and take it back. Jake, however, seemed to have another course of action in mind.

He leaned forward, hand gliding against my jaw as he lifted my head ever so slightly and pressed his lips to mine. A surprised noise squeaked out of my throat, one I would have been embarrassed about had I been able to focus on anything but his damn lips. They were softer than they looked if that was possible, and firm against mine. 

Both of us were tense for a moment, anxious at the sudden fulfillment of both our fantasies in a matter of seconds. After the initial shock wore off, we both eased into one another, our lips moving in harmony as we accepted that this was reality. The kiss was gentle and urgent while still holding back. Jake pulled away, allowing me a second to breathe.

His eyes were wide, pupils nearly drowning the blue as his chest heaved with quiet breaths. All I could do was look at him with equally wide eyes and equal breathlessness. All I could do was take hold of the collar of his shirt and, subsequently, the silver chain around his neck and pull him back into another, far needier kiss.

It was sloppy and messy in a way that only made us want more. He tasted like smoke, and the cotton candy he had earlier as his fingers on my jaw coaxed my mouth open so he could mingle the odd combination against my tongue with his own. One hand buried itself into my hair as he groaned into my mouth while the other ran down my back, his dull nails dragging against my skin. My hand wrapped around the silver chain and pulled, keeping him from moving away from me, and the other pressed into his thigh, my nails digging into his jeans like my life depended on it.

A groan echoed through the metal as the Ferris Wheel spurred to life again, shifting suddenly and breaking us out of the heated trance our lips had entangled us in. Our cart started moving, lowering us back to the ground. We stared at each other for a second before slowly detaching our hands from one another and straightening our clothes and hair. 

The silence was almost as deafening as my heart pounding in my ears. Finally, Jake and I got off the ride quietly, walking side by side back to the group we’d left nearby. Will handed me the stuffed tiger Jake had given me, and my heart burned. Prue smiled at me from the crook of Will’s arm. “How was the Ferris Wheel?”

“Good,” I said, tucking my now loosened hair behind my ear. “It was good.”

The loudest among the group rushed into conversations, but all I could hear was the Ferris Wheel whirling to life again behind us. Looking over my shoulder at Jake, who’d put not a large distance but a noticeable one in between us, I realized just how fucked I was - we both were. That one kiss wasn’t enough, not even close. My heart throbbed, and my body tingled with a hum of pure desire. A want, no, need for more. Jake’s blue eyes were filled with the same thing as mine. That kiss wasn’t going to cut it. Shit.

*

Her eyes mirrored his. Swimming in a sea of black, blown-out pupils that made him want to close the distance he’d put between them the longer he looked. The want, no, the need that had been burning in his chest from the day he met her was now raging so hot and desperate that he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore it any longer. That kiss wasn’t enough. Not for either of them. Fuck.

#fic: nightshade #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter fandom #sweetbitter fanfiction #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter lena #jake and lena #lena harrow #jake x lena #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter will #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter original characters #sweetbitter prue #sweetbitter quinn #sweetbitter peter #sweetbitter patrick #sweetbitter nana #sweet bitter #sweetbitter smut

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

Chapter 8: Flambe

TW: panic attacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms, confrontations, allusion/brief mentions of grooming, light make out session, Simone & Olive suck, language, smoking, mentions of drug use (past and present), some heavy topics (mentions of suicide, near death experiences), obvious tension, slight mention of tattooing, a strip club/strippers/partial nudity, drinking, mild implied violence

The hazy outline of her face was all he could see as the world around him threatened to fade into the dark edges of black that lined his vision. Lena filled the space between his legs, sitting on the floor with him. Parts of her face would come into view, more clear and vivid than they usually were… she looked like an angel. “Can you tell me what you need?”

You, he thought as his chest tightened. It was an odd admission for him. Usually, in times like this, all he could think of was Simone and what she’d tell him he needed to do. Slow your breathing. Just push through it. Just breathe. But at that moment, all he could think of was her and how her presence alone made the tightness in his chest ease. He shook his head quickly, afraid he’d reveal too much to her if he spoke now.

“That’s okay,” she said softly, moving to settle in closer. “Let’s just focus on breathing.” She reached down and carefully took hold of his hand, pressing it to her chest. Her eyes became clear. A pair of glowing emeralds looking at him like she cared… like this wasn’t a massive waste of her time. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”

For a minute, all he could feel was the coolness of her skin, soft as silk beneath his palm. Then the steady thumping of her heart echoed through his hand, seemingly filling his chest with its power. Then, nodding, he watched her lips lift into a relieved smile. “Can you feel my breaths?” 

A flash of her head dipping below the dark waters in The Cape filled his head. He remembered how she’d nearly stopped breathing in his arms… the way her chest stuttered and her heartbeat felt bolder, wilder against his chest. His head ticked as he forced himself to focus on her now. On the steady motion of her chest falling and rising with each deep and slow breath she took. He nodded again. 

“Good,” she whispered. “Now, just try and breathe with me, okay?” She pressed her hand to the back of his, a gesture that made him feel fuzzy, uncertain of what the lifting feeling was, as she counted softly. Jake could feel his body reacting, calming to her within minutes. Usually, he would have to force it all down, push what he felt back into the confines of the cage he kept it all locked away in until he could trick himself into thinking he was fine. 

This was different. Lena squeezed his hand, her thumb stroking along the back for a second as she held his gaze, unflinching and unjudging. “You’re here. You’re safe with me.”

Safe? As though he was some scared child? Jake tore his eyes away from her, anger, embarrassment, and shame boiling inside his chest as he pulled his hand away and settled onto the floor, trying to put space between her body and his. “You can go now. I’m fine.”

“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” she replied as sweetly as she retook hold of his hand.

“Not for me.” He forced a chuckle from his throat, trying to clear the tightness that lingered there.

“Why not?” She asked. He almost answered her on instinct… some bizarre instinct that only grew stronger daily, threatening to have him spilling every detail of himself and his life to Lena Harrow like some stupid puppy desperate for her love. When he didn’t reply, she said, “You’re human too, Jake. And after everything that’s happened… That biker asshole punching you and my shit in Cape Cod combined with your Cape-related stuff. So understandably, you’d be feeling overwhelmed.”

“It’s so fucking stupid. All this over a dumb arcade game.” Why does this feel so easy?

Lena shook her head, that damn thumb stroking the back of his hand again, sending a wave of calm through him. “It’s not stupid. It took me years to get over that shitty fake drowning animation. I still can’t go swimming. No matter how shallow the water is, I always feel like I’m going to sink.” That’s why. Lena understood… she knew what it felt like in a way no one else had. It was scary to think of all the ways they’d suffered alike throughout their fucked up lives. “We don’t get to choose what affects us. We just have to do our best to get through it.”

She got him through it, he realized. He forced all expression from his face as he once again shoved everything to fade away. “Thank you.”

“That’s what friends are for.” She pulled back, and he had to physically refrain from moving to stop her. “I’ll give you a few minutes to yourself.”

Jake watched her go, silently cursing himself for having this public outburst… for letting her, of all people, see him like this. He waited in the bathroom for a few minutes, looking into the mirror's reflection and berating himself for being so weak and annoying. Finally, he left, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone, not bothering to pretend like they’d care if he just disappeared. Catching a cab, he went straight home. Home where he didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him hit this low point. Home where he could open up the first beer he could get his hands on and the seven after that.

Standing in the doorway of his bathroom, his eyes glued to the tub. Echoes of distant waves filled his ears, images of him looking up from beneath the water… his mother's voice assuring him that everything would be okay. He stepped forward, drawn to the idea of filling the tub up and slipping beneath the water to force himself to face that breathlessness that still seemed to haunt him. As he shrugged off his jacket, the sound of it hitting the floor, heavier than it should have been, pulled him from his drunken fixation. 

He fell to his knees, having to steady himself against the doorframe as he bent over to pull his jacket into his lap and fish through the pockets. Then, pulling out the fluffy green frog with starry eyes and big red lips, Jake smiled. “I think I’ll call him Jake.” He chuckled at her voice, the image of her holding up the hideous little grumpy-faced frog to show him etched in his mind like it was the most important thing he’d ever seen. “He even looks like you.”

“Lena,” he whispered, rubbing his fingers over the long-limbed stuffed animal. His phone lit up beside him, Simone most likely calling or texting to nag him about not being late for his shift tomorrow. 

Goodnight, Jake. He didn’t recognize the number at first, but after a minute of thought, he smiled, sad and happy simultaneously. Jake honestly hadn’t expected her to ever use the number he’d put into her phone, but for that moment, he was glad she did.

Goodnight, Lena.After he sent the simple message, a wave of calm washed over him. He half expected her to text him again with the dozens of questions she no doubt had; Simone would have, but after a few minutes of silence, he decided she’d fallen asleep. Leaning back into the doorway, Jake held onto the little frog and closed his eyes.

*

A heavyweight dipped the side of my bed, and the smell of Irish whiskey and hair gel filled my nose. The featherlight tapping of something fuzzy to my cheek made me groan. Opening my eyes to find Patrick poorly hiding behind the stuffed frog I'd won at the arcade. "Better wake up, sleepyhead!" He sang in a Kermit the Frog voice. "Don't want to miss breakfast. It's the most important meal of the - OW!"

I pinched his arm harder, pulling the grumpy frog from his hands and shoving him off the bed with my legs. "Don't you have places to be?"

"Not really," he answered from the floor. "I got my shit done hours ago."

Turning to look at the clock, I groaned even louder. "Seven o'clock? How dare you."

Peter emerged in the doorway, leaning against it with a bowl of cereal. "Morning, sleeping beauty!"

Pulling the frog close, I rolled over, flopping the pillow over my head. "Go away and let me sleep."

"This is my room, you know."

I swung my feet over the side of Peter's bed, stepping on Patrick's back to slide through the doorway, and headed to my room. Pausing, I smiled back at them. "Now, keep the noise down so I can go back to sleep."

They chuckled as I shut my door and flopped onto my bed. I wasn't expecting to be able to fall back asleep, but getting the time to relax in my bed holding the soft grumpy frog named Jake made this small moment enough. I listened to my two brothers wreak havoc in the small kitchen, blaring Irish folk music and loudly dancing to the jaunty tune. For this one moment, life felt slow and steady. It felt like it had before our dad died. 

My brothers and I ate breakfast together an hour later, then we took turns showering in the shared bathroom and settled around the table, drinking coffee and picking at our plates as Ozzy slid through the front door and smiled. "Ah, it's so nice seeing all my little troublemakers at this table again." He kissed Peter's head and pinched Patrick's cheek before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "How was the rest of your homecoming night?"

"Very fun," Peter said with a smile. "I do appreciate it."

"No more thank yous or I appreciate its. Welcome home, big brother." I replied.

Patrick checked his watch. "You need to be at the hospital at one, right?"

"Yeah." Sensing my nervous confusion, Peter continued quickly, "They want me to check in. You know, make sure I'm doing well at home."

"I can come with you," I offered. "I don't have to be at work till three."

"Sounds good," Peter agreed.

My phone buzzed a few times in my pocket.

I apologize for the last-minute notice. I need you to come in early tonight. You'll be working the bar. - Howard

Hey Red, it looks like it's gonna be you tonight and me. Come in early so I can go over the basics with you (Howard's orders) - Nicky.

Holy shit. I gulped down the rest of my orange juice and quickly set my dishes in the sink. "Change of plans. Looks like tonight is going to be an absolute shitstorm. Pat, can you make sure Pete gets to his appointment?"

"Sure thing, sis."

"Is everything alright?" Ozzy asked.

Sighing, I answered, "I guess I'll find out."

"Call if you need anything."

"Aye, aye, Captain Oz!" I hollered, shutting the apartment door behind me and moving down the stairs and through the gym. Dom leaned against the wall in front of the alley as I walked closer. "Dom! Got time to give me a ride to work?"

He tossed the cigarette to the side and swung his leg over his bike. "Sure thing, kid, let's go." Then, lifting the helmet, he smirked. “Newbies get the helmet.”

“I’m hardly a newbie.”

“Alright, passengers, get the helmet. Better?” He asked.

I grumbled, pulling the bulky helmet over my head and curling around Dom’s back as he wove through traffic effortlessly. Riding with Dom was always relaxing. I knew he’d get us to where we were going without issues, and listening to him bitch about every traffic inconvenience was always entertaining. Through the slight tint of the visor, I watched as the city lights streaked by, and for a quick moment, I felt like I was somewhere else. Somewhere that reeked of expensive cologne and finely polished leather. For a moment, I was in the dark car, fingers digging into my thighs to keep myself from shaking as the lights and snow flew by at a startling speed, and a cold sting bit into my neck, threatening to cut with each bump and turn.

My fingers curled into Dom’s shirt as I pressed my head to his back and breathed in the way the helmet smelled like cigarette smoke with a mild tint of Dom’s weed. I wasn’t there. I would never be there again, not with Dom around. He pulled into the alleyway and held his hand out for his helmet. “Thanks, Dom,” I said, handing it to him.

“Busy day?” He nodded to the clamoring of people that became visible when a few guys from the back opened the alley door to take the trash out. 

“Yeah, it’s looking like it’s gonna be crazy.”

“Well, call if you need anything,” he reminded. “See you at Ozzy’s later?”

“See you later. Try to stay out of jail.” Dom scoffed as he pulled the bike out of the alley and waved back at me before flying off. 

The kitchen was an absolute nightmare. Bodies of people were moving around like their lives depended on it as they frantically moved dishes around and hunted for bar mops and prepped. Scott quickly tasted every sauce, muttering more or less when he looked up at me and shook his head. “Fuckin ridiculous.”

I looked around for a minute, whistling lowly. “What the fuck is going on here today?”

“We got slammed with four last-minute VIP reservations.” He shook his head. “The kind of VIP that requires all hands on deck.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“No fucking clue. Howard’s pissed.”

I moved out of Santos’ way as he slid past with a rack of dishes to polish. “Doesn’t Howard have all this shit written out in some book or something, so we don’t get surprised with things like this?”

“Yeah, he does,” Scott answered, tasting another sauce. “Less.” He tossed his spoon to the side and ran a rag over his head, collecting the sweat accumulated. “He says there must've been some mix-up when whoever scheduled their parties wrote it down. It’s a load of fuckin bullshit.”

“You think he did it on purpose?” I asked with furrowed brows.

“I think someone did,” Scott answered. “Doesn’t matter. We’re still fucked. You’re at the bar tonight, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, Howard said there was a last-minute change or something.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Do you know exactly why we’ll need three bartenders tonight?”

“Two. Jake didn’t show up for his shift.” Oh fuck. “He’s usually pretty late, but no one’s been able to get a hold of him, not even Simone.”

“He just didn’t show?”

“Yep,” Scott nodded toward the kitchen doors. “Howard and Simone have been going at it for almost an hour now.”

Great, I cursed to myself. “Thanks, Chef.”

I hurried up the stairs and changed into my work clothes as fast as possible, throwing my hair into a messy bun before tying on the shiny black work shoes. Jake was usually late, a habit he’d been notorious for even before I arrived, but he’d never just skipped work. As I laced up my shoes, I tried not to think about what that meant… on what had happened last night after he left the arcade. Was he just too hung over, or did he do something stupid? My hands shook as I recalled all the times I’d been half-dead in alleyways after taking too many pills and how I would've died if someone hadn’t found me. I closed my eyes tightly. Jake wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t do that, not when he had no one to help him if he needed it.

Will smiled at me as he entered the locker room, changing out his suit jacket for a clean one. “I set my arm in one of the sauces.”

“I’m surprised Scott let you live,” I replied, breathing out my anxiety.

“Me too.” Will looked at me carefully for a minute before he sighed. “Are you okay? I know today’s been… hell, but you look pale.”

“I’m okay,” I assured him. “Just kind of worried that Jake didn’t even call.”

Will shrugged, doing up the button on his jacket. “I’m sure he’s fine. Jake’s like a cockroach. Nothing can get rid of him.”

I bit my cheek to avoid snapping at him for the crude analogy and nodded. “You’re right. He probably just had a long night or something. I better check in with Howard. Let him know I’m here, so he’ll relax a bit.”

“Good idea, though I’d be careful. When I passed the office a minute ago, it sounded like things were getting pretty heated between him and Simone.”

Downstairs I waved to Nicky, quietly gesturing toward Howard’s office to let him know I’d be right there to help him prep. The dark wooden door was slightly open when I turned down the hall, making every harsh word he and Simone traded even louder. “You’re not firing Jake,” Simone said sternly. “He’s-”

“He’s a liability.” Howard sighed. “First, he was making threats to people from behind the bar-”

“That was one time,” Simone cut off. “To one person who we can both agree deserved it.”

“It doesn’t matter how many times it happened or to who, Simone. The fact that it happened at all with this blatant disregard for procedure and, let’s face it, professionalism is more than enough grounds for termination.”

Simone made a soft, seething noise as she scoffed. “This is ridiculous even for you.”

I knocked on the door, cutting into their conversation. Howard smiled tensely as I entered the office. “Lena, thank you for coming in early so last minute.”

“It’s no problem,” I assured him, glancing at Simone’s tight, angry face. “I just wanted to let you know I was here, and uh, it’s probably a bad time, but… I was hoping I could reserve a table for next week, Friday, if possible?” I smiled, a gesture meant to soothe Howard's anger hopefully. “Figured I’d ask you personally, given the scheduling mishaps that have been going on.”

His gaze shifted to a book in front of him, eyes scanning along the page before he nodded and picked up a pen, writing something down. “Done.”

“Thank you,” I responded, taking a deep breath. I’d be the worst friend in the world if I just stood there and acted like Jake’s job wasn’t on the line. "And… I don't think you should fire Jake.”

"Lena-"

"You said this place was as much mine as it was yours," I pointed out, ignoring how Simone's lips tightened. "Well, it's just as much theirs as it is ours, including Jake."

"He no call-"

"No show, I know. But how many times have I done that in the past?"

Howard’s head tilted as he sighed, "That's different."

“Only because of my name. And nepotism isn’t exactly considered professional,” I pointed out.

Howard clenched his jaw as he nodded stiffly. “Nicky’s agreed to go over some things with you. I know you don’t exactly need it, but I need service to go smoothly tonight. After that, I’ll think about what course of action Jake deserves.”

“Thanks, Howard.”

Nicky smiled when he saw me and patted me on the back as I joined him behind the bar. “How bad do you think tonight’s gonna be?”

I laughed as I grabbed a knife and cut the fruit we’d need. “If Howard and Simone’s moods are any indicator, I’d say pretty fucking bad.”

He shook his head. “Well, Howard told me to show you the basics, but I think we both know you don’t need it, so if you don’t say anything, I won’t either.”

“Sounds like a good deal. Thanks, Nicky.”

Simone stormed out of Howard's office, a deep scowl on her face as she regarded me with a heated look of bitterness that made her look like my mother. Nicky’s eyebrows shot up as he mouthed ‘wow’ to me. I couldn’t have agreed more. Simone was a textbook narcissist, someone who reminded me of all the people who made my life a living hell throughout the first fifteen years. 

The way she held herself higher than everyone else with that air of superiority and the honeyed words that, more often than not, extended far beyond the surface level of things was my mother. Her inability to embrace change and stubborn insistence that her way was the only way was aunt Maddie. And then there was that which was hidden far beneath the surface. That hideous thing that I only caught in glimpses, fractions of a second, where she’d let that pretty mask of hers drop to reveal what was beneath. That was him. The cursed name still brought a foul taste to my mouth whenever I felt brave enough to speak it. 

I watched her prepare the dining room with Olive stuck to her side. They said little to one another, but I noted that Simone seemed to be the only person the new girl didn’t look nervous around. Instead, she held herself differently when she stood beside the blonde woman, higher in a way that made my gut tighten with the sensation that told me I shouldn’t trust her. 

Service began with a rush of people flooding the front door. The poor hostess did her best to smile through the chaos and overlapping voices. Howard played the guests like a finely tuned violin, using just the right amount of flattery and bribery. He was undoubtedly in his element as a manager, more so than when I first met him. Back then, he was little more than a young man bumbling around at aunt Maddie’s every request and demand. He didn't have the spine to speak to the guests like he did now and even less charisma.

Howard stood by the bar for a while, looking out at the room full of people and the line of those waiting with grim expressions. Every few minutes, I could feel the familiar weight of his eyes watching me, a sensation that wasn’t uncomfortable but still made me feel weird. Peter had commented on his habit of watching others, particularly me, back when I was younger and timider. He made it clear that he, my dad, and even Patrick weren’t fooled by Howard’s seemingly peaceful and meek demeanor. And after everything that had happened under aunt Maddie’s nose and, in turn, Howard’s, I couldn’t exactly blame him for holding a grudge.

Olive made small talk to Nicky every few minutes as she restocked the bar, but she’d said nothing to me all night. Of course, I didn’t mind that. It wasn’t like I was dying to make conversation with her, but what did get on my nerves was the way she blatantly ignored me. “Olive, we need more ice.”

I hadn’t said it in any tone that would prompt her to ignore me, but she did anyway. Her big eyes watched the dining room, full of a sparkling wonder that, to me at least, made her look like an idiot. Nicky glanced at me and then cleared his throat. “Olive, we need more ice.”

She turned and smiled at him. “Of course! I’ll be right back!”

Scoffing, I shook it off, trying to get through the hectic night without getting dragged into whatever drama she was trying to incite. I’d been helping Ozzy run things behind the bar for years, but tonight was one of the worst nights I’d ever seen behind a bartop. Every seat at the bar was packed, which wasn’t too odd. What made it terrible was that every free inch of space around the bar was also full. Bodies stood smushed together, ordering drinks in frustrated tones and with holier-than-thou looks. Rich people suck, I reminded myself after every fake smile and over-exaggeratedly made drink. They’d put a dollar in the tip jar, and I’d want to pull all my hair out. And they’re terrible tippers.

“Olive,” I called out. “The bar needs more Opus.” The brown-haired girl didn’t pause as she walked past the bar entirely and back into the kitchen. I turned to Nicky with wide eyes that conveyed my frustration well. “Guess I’m getting it.”

He shook his head, refocusing on his drink. “Don’t sweat it. I’ve got the bar covered, Red.”

I felt somewhat relieved by the coolness of the wine cellar and the momentary freedom of fake smiles and shitty people. Scanning the shelves, I didn’t hear her steps until she cleared her throat and smiled thinly at me. “Simone,” I addressed in a bland voice. “Something I can help you with?”

“Where’s Jake?” She asked, her voice not even attempting to sound sweet or friendly anymore.

“I don’t know,” I answered. 

Her red lips pursed as she let out a breath. “He was with you last night, wasn’t he?”

I nodded. “For a while, yeah. He left before everyone else. That was the last I saw of him.”

“You’re lying.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Simone. I don’t know where he is.” Shrugging my shoulders, I returned my gaze to the racks of wine. “If anything, I would have figured you’d know.”

Simone made a sound that resembled a hissing snake as she spat the words out, "I knew I was right about you. Selfish, manipulative, and dangerous."

That was enough. Fuck this. "Projecting your own shortcomings onto me isn't going to help you." Cold rage seethed from her as she straightened her back. "Just because you're feeling bitter and abandoned doesn't mean it has anything to do with me."

"Oh, but it has everything to do with you. Jake was perfectly happy before you showed up."

"Ahh, yes, because spending every night drowning out mountains of trauma with alcohol and drugs and casual sex is what all happy people do."

Her lips thinned into a tight line as she laughed. "You think you know him? You don't. I know him. I am the only one that knows him." Shaking her head, she looked me up and down. "He doesn’t care about you.” My teeth ground together as she smiled. “You aren't the first new girl Jake has gotten himself caught up in, and you certainly won't be the last. He'll get what he wants and be done with you just like all the others." She raised her hand to her chest. "I am the only person Jake would never leave."

I raised a brow, unbothered and unphased by her long-winded but ultimately meaningless words. This was a tantrum, nothing more. "I see," I started. "I wonder which one burns you most. The fact that he's giving me more attention than you or the fact that I didn't have to manipulate him when he was a child to get it."

There it was. The chip in her perfect porcelain mask shattered everything in the blink of an eye. Simone's face dropped into a dead stare, filled with every lie she told him and every excuse she made to justify what she'd done. The dead stare I’d seen before in someone else's eyes. "You don't know a goddamn thing about Jake and I. You don't know what he's been through, what I've had to sacrifice-"

"And what about him?" I demanded angrily. "What did Jake have to sacrifice to appease you? What price did you force him to pay for your so-called love?"

Her smile was deadly. Teeth bared and poison dripping from her ruby lips as she spoke her following words carefully, "You don't know anything about love, you ungrateful disappointment."

I took a step closer, the old anger I’d usually kept held back by thick restraints … a fragile thread now held that rage back. "You're the one that doesn't know anything about love. A monster like you could never even fucking imagine what it's like to actually care… To actually love someone other than yourself." I smiled one void of all joy and filled only with a promise. A promise not just on Jake’s behalf but on my own… one my monster wouldn’t ever hear. "You've read my file, but do not make the mistake of thinking you know me. All of that is surface level. Every fucked up thing you’ve read about in Howard's stupid little papers is nothing compared to the shit that’s not there. You don't know the lengths I'll go to to protect the ones I care about."

Simone laughed, baring her teeth slightly. "Is that a threat?"

"Threat, promise, it's all the same to predators like you." I grabbed the bottle of Opus off the rack next to her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a bar to tend to."

All the way up the stairs, I could feel Simone’s hatred grow. There was no going back now, not that I’d ever want to. But, at least I could take some comfort in knowing I wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward small talk and fake requests of friendship anymore. I set the Opus next to Nicky and practically shoved my way past Olive. “I could have gotten that,” she said snarkily.

“Oh fuck off!” I shouted in the lowest tone I could, quickly shaking off the anger and returning to kissing the asses of the increasingly drunk patrons surrounding the bar.

When things finally began to slow, Nicky and I started closing down the bar, bidding our rich parasites guests farewell. I returned to the kitchen with a few plates and kindly handed them to Santos. "Crazy night, huh?"

"Yeah," I agreed, looking around at the drained faces in the kitchen. Even Isaac looked tired.

"Last desert, and then we're done!" Scott announced, reading off the final ticket and leading each area that wasn't needed in closing down for the night.

The light aroma of sweet peaches and fresh berries filled the air as they braised in the pan. Scott reached over and added a decent amount of rich amber liquor over the top of them, and the pan was set ablaze. A classic flambe. Rich, sweet, tart, everything that made a simple slice of plain cake taste heavenly.

Closing was one filled with tempered silence. Everyone was still on edge and thoroughly done with every minuscule amount of drama the night had been orchestrated with. Howard said nothing, and as soon as the dining room cleared of guests and the kitchen was shut down for the night, he walked into his office and closed the door. Simone left without a word to anyone, and with her gone, everyone else seemed to breathe a breath of fresh air. The locker room was packed with employees who all gossiped about the awful night.

Heather shook her head as she threw her shirt on. “Jake had the right idea skipping out tonight.”

Ari scoffed. “An idea that cost him his job.”

“Howard won’t fire him,” Heather argued. “Simone would raise hell if he even tried.”

“I don’t know,” Will interjected. “Did you see Howard tonight? I’ve never seen him that angry.”

I tried to drown them out, trying not to focus on anything that would potentially drag me down into the twisted thoughts that made me worry about Jake. Then, in the corner of my eye, I saw Ari handing out little pills. Sasha held out his hand, and she paused. “Thought you were done with these.”

The man rolled his eyes and plucked the pill out of her fingers with a bitter phrase in Russian. Everyone filed out, heading down to the bar to drown the night out in booze, everyone but Sasha. He sat on the old couch, holding the little pink pill between his fingers with a contemplating look.

“Want some company?” I asked, leaning against my locker. 

He sighed and patted the seat next to him. “It’s a generous offer, little Tiger. But I don’t know if it’ll help now.”

It wasn’t the best idea, but it could help. I moved to Jake’s locker and opened it, pulling out his extra stash of cigarettes. “Wanna share one?”

Sasha smiled. “Of course.”

He lit the cigarette, taking a deep breath of the smoke as he set the pill down on the uneven coffee table in front of him. “You okay?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I have to be.”

“You don’t have to be right now,” I answered. “For the duration of this cigarette, I give you permission not to be okay.”

"I am homesick." He shook his head. "It feels like everyone I love there is sick or dying or being carted off to prison, and I…" He wiped away his tears. "I cannot go home."

"I'm sorry, Sasha." I sighed. "When my dad died, I felt like life was going to explode. I still feel that way sometimes. I know it can never compare to what you're going through, but I'm here whenever you need someone to not be okay with."

He chuckled and nodded to the pill. "So, what was it that got you into the filthy habit?"

"Well, I started with Adderall to try and achieve my mother's impossible standards." 

Sasha nodded, breathing out the smoke and handing me the cigarette. "And then? How'd you go from the little babies to the big boys?"

I took a long drag, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the burn of the smoke in my lungs. "Oh, come on, baby girl, you know you want to try it." Then, with a shaky exhale, I shook my head, staring at the embers sparking in the burning edge with a tiny hope that the smoke would help keep the bitter taste out of my mouth as I answered, "His name was Tony."

"Ahh, I should have guessed it was a boy." Sasha breathed, wiggling his fingers for the cigarette again. "Was it love at first sight?"

My jaw clenched, and a wave of disgust and shame hit me in the chest. "Not for me."

The Russian tilted his head, taking in my stiffness. With a soft noise, he carefully stroked my cheek. "Well, if I know one thing from our time together, it is this; he did not deserve you, Tiger Bitch."

"Thank you," I whispered. "So, are you gonna take it?"

"No," he sighed, looking at the little pill. "I don't need it anymore." He flicked it into the sink and took hold of my hand, pressing a smokey kiss to my knuckles. "Thank you, my tiger."

"Thank you, my little Russian prince," I responded.

"So, tell me what happened between you and blondie."

"God, you guys are the worst gossip."

He shrugged. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll make up a story I think is fun.”

I laughed, the tension slowly easing out of my shoulders. “I don’t know which is worse.”

“My version,” he replied with a wicked grin. “Obviously.”

“You guys want to come to the bar tonight?” I asked, standing up and smiling down at him. “Ozzy’s pulling out the big gun tonight.”

“What is the big gun?”

“Karaoke machine.”

Sasha’s face gleamed as he jumped off the couch laughing. “You save us seats! I will rally the people!”

*

Jake downed the shot like his life depended on it, and the irrational part of him that the alcohol seemed to make louder argued that it did rely on it. After waking up on the bathroom floor and having another panic attack, clutching onto some stupid frog, he’d started drinking again. Once he ran out of beer at home and received more messages and calls from Simone, all pissed off and saying she’d had enough of his shit, he migrated to Home Bar, where he sat in front of the busty bartender and drank everything she put in front of him. Vivian smiled as she set down another drink. “Take it easy, tiger.”

He chuckled, giving her a nice view of his flirtatious smile, the one he’d used to sleep with her the first time, while he admired the way her boobs spilled out of her corset top. Tiger. The word rolled around in his head, conjuring up the image of Lena’s tattoo and bringing a genuine smile to his face. He swallowed the second shot, shaking his head as if the alcohol swishing around in his mouth would clear away the fond thoughts of the redheaded woman. 

Someone gently tapped on his shoulder, drawing his blurry vision to the side where Tess stood. Jake blinked a few times, the image slowly becoming clearer and clearer until Olive’s stupid smile and big eyes looked at him with glee. “Hey,” she said. “I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight.”

“Well, here I am,” he replied, stretching his arms out with a tight grin.

“Everyone seemed to miss you at work today,” she continued. 

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. You want me to fuck you, Olive?”

She looked taken aback for a second, her innocent little brain reeling at his forwardness. “I-I…” she stammered before taking a minute to regain her composure. She nodded. “Yeah… I do…”

Jake stood up, using the bar to steady himself as he grabbed her hand and pushed through the crowd toward the back booth. He sat down, adjusting himself in the poorly cushioned seat and looking at her. “Well, come on then.”

For a minute, he thought that would be the end of it. She certainly looked like she was going to turn tail and run, but for once since he’d met her, she’d surprised him. Olive straddled his lap and nervously looked down at him. “You don’t-”

“Just don’t talk,” he bit out, pulling her head down with one of his hands and messily pressing his lips to hers.

As he kissed her, Jake found himself thinking about Tess… the way she looked and even the way she sounded as she responded to his kiss and touch was too much like her. Tess had been one of the few people he didn’t plan on sleeping with when he’d rejected her the first time. That should have been the end of it, but then he’d gotten a call from Simone. Beneath Olive’s hand on his cheek, his jaw clenched. Simone had not so subtly told him to sleep with her. “She just needs to get it out of her system,” she’d said. “And maybe you need to get it out of yours.” 

Jake approached the back waiter the next night, took her out to some shitty diner, and took her home. What was surprising was how much he enjoyed it. Tess was sweet and soft and everything he thought he wanted when he actually let himself imagine a future outside of 22West… and outside of Simone. He’d taken it more seriously than Simone had anticipated, which sent her into a spiral of worry. With Etienne and his bullshit, as well as Tess’ behavior toward her behind his back, Simone had turned to drinking all the time, even at work, something she still occasionally did but had improved since Tess’ departure.

That unsettled feeling began to drown out the buzz of the alcohol as Olive’s hands ran down his chest. The realization came a moment later. When he’d brought up the similarities to Tess, Simone's tone yesterday was the same one she’d had when she told him to sleep with her. That was what he’d seen and felt when she’d spoken to him at the bar. Simone wanted him to sleep with Olive… but why?

He pulled back and sucked in a deep breath of air as Olive’s dainty hands began undoing his belt. Jake tried to forget about Simone and everything else… tried to give in and let this happen. Maybe he did need this? Maybe that’s what Simone had been trying to tell him. His fingers ran through her hair, and his heart dropped. Brown, not red. Jake looked down at her round brown eyes as Olive tried to kiss him again. He grabbed her arms and not so nicely shoved her off of him into the booth before he stood, grabbed his cigarettes, and headed toward the door.

Olive yelled after him, but Jake's mind was made up. He didn't want brown hair between his fingers. He wanted red. He didn't want cold, pale, or dark eyes looking up at him, pupils blown wide with lust… He wanted that vibrant green that filled with every emotion she felt at any given moment. Jake didn't want to listen to Simone. He didn't want Tess or Olive. Jake wanted Lena.

*

Karaoke night at Ozzy’s was exactly what everyone needed after the night of god-awful service. Sasha and Ari commanded the stage as they belted out the words to some popular song and danced around on the stage. Quinn cheered Ari on at the front of the stage, looking up at her with a big smile, not-so-subtle kisses, and winks. Prue and Will bobbed along with the terrible rendition of the song, making plans to go see a movie. He blushed whenever she complimented his sign language. Everyone else was scattered around, standing at the bar for drinks or mingling in the crowd of people all here to have a good time.

I sat down in our booth and watched the front door, hopefully expecting Jake to come strolling in with his stupid hat and stupid face and stupid everything. But the longer I watched, the more obvious it became that he wasn’t coming, and that only made me feel more nervous about how I hadn’t heard from him since last night. Then, finally, Sasha and Ari finished their song and were met with boisterous cheers from the crowd. They hurried over to our table and sat down, chugging the glasses of water Ozzy had brought.

“Are you going to participate in the fun, Tiger Bitch?” Sasha asked with an arched brow.

“No,” I answered.

Quinn pulled herself away from Ari’s lips to boo at me. “Come on. You’re so good at it, though!”

Will leaned his head on top of Prue’s and smiled. “You a performer?”

“No.”

Quinn rolled her eyes and pulled Ari’s lips back to hers. Prue shook her head a little, pulling back to talk to Will. “She’s just being modest.”

"You should go on," he encouraged. "I'm sure Sasha would join you!"

Sasha grinned. "I would if our tiger is content to play second fiddle!"

Heather laughed. "I think you'd be second fiddle in that match-up."

"I am always the star," Sasah replied, giving Heather a look. "Russians don't play second fiddle."

As I watched my newly grown group of friends argue over who was born for stardom, I couldn't help but focus on how my oldest friends quickly lost themselves in their newfound love. I couldn't help but feel that little green monster bite me again. I wanted that. I wanted the sweet puppy love that Prue and Will had and the passionate one Quinn and Ari shared. It had been years since I'd felt the softness of romantic love. Sex had been fine, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't what they had. Dom tapped my shoulder, pulling my attention back from the short pity party, and leaned down. “Hey, one of my boys just told me your guy was outside making a scene.”

“Jake?” I asked a dumb sense of relief washing over me.

He nodded. “I figured I’d let you handle it rather than me or my boys. You know, spare the kid a black eye.”

“Thanks, Dom,” I said, standing up and quickly approaching the front door. The bikers were crowded around two people facing each other, one of them being Jake. He was clearly not himself as he egged on the biker, trying to get him to fight him by the look of it. Finally, the biker stepped out of the way of Jake’s sluggish hit, and he fell to the ground, laughing. 

“This guy’s fucking nuts,” one of them said as I pushed through the crowd.

"Hey, tough guy," I said, kneeling to get a better look at him.

Jake smiled widely, his hand reaching out to run up my arms. "Lena," he breathed out. "I was lookin’ for you."

"I heard," I said, pressing a hand to his face. He was hot, leaning into my chilled touch with a content sigh.

"You're so soft."

Looking up at the bikers, I waved off their concern. "I've got him. Thank you, guys." I grabbed Jake's arm and carefully started pulling him to his feet. "Let's take a quick walk."

He walked as much as he could but leaned heavily on me as we headed toward The Ring. The abrasive smell of booze, cocaine, and throw-up burnt my nose. “I threw up on my shirt,” he mumbled.

“I see that,” I answered, struggling with the door. “Are you feeling a little better, though?”

“Yeah,” he said, curling a finger around my hair. “You’re here.”

Patrick’s eyebrows shot up as I pulled him into the building. “A little help?”

He wrapped Jake’s arm around his shoulders and took most of the weight. “Taking him upstairs?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty out of it.”

“Pete’s gonna love this.”

The stairs leading to the apartment were the hardest part as Jake seemingly decided he was done with our walk and stopped moving his feet. Patrick had to grab hold of him and hoist him up each step, nearly falling through the door as I opened it. Peter sat at the table, sipping a mug of tea or something hot with a book in his free hand as we clamored around each other and Jake. 

Patrick hit his knee on the side of the doorframe and abruptly dropped his hold of Jake, sending the half-coherent man falling forward into my chest. Jake rubbed his cheek against my skin and hummed, perfectly content. Peter slowly set his cup down and leaned back in his chair. “How was Ozzy’s?”

“Good,” Patrick answered after letting loose a slew of curse words. “Picked up a friend.”

“I see that.”

“Can we not do this right now?” I huffed out, slowly tilting back beneath Jake’s weight. “He’s about to take me down.”

Peter smirked. “I think he’d enjoy that.”

“Peter!”

Between the three of us, we managed to drag Jake to my room and flop him down on my bed, where he curled his face into a pillow and breathed in deeply, mumbling something about cherries. I sucked in a breath of air. “I’ll go get the extra blankets,” Peter offered.

“I’ve got the upchuck bowl,” Patrick followed.

I carefully helped Jake lean forward to slip his jacket off and take hold of the bottom of his shirt. “Hey, I’m gonna take your shirt off, okay?”

He smirked. “You can do whatever you want to me, princess.”

“Okay…” I slid his shirt up, carefully avoiding the splotches of throw-up that would no doubt stain the material. Jake sucked in a deep breath every time my skin brushed against his. His hands slid down to my hips, holding me against him as his eyes trailed down my face before I moved the shirt over his head. “There. Now let’s get your shoes off.”

He reluctantly let go of my hips so I could turn around and try tugging the shoes off his heavy feet. His fingers ran through my hair. "Mmm, red…" he mumbled. "That's better." I giggled, tugging off his shoes, pausing slightly when his fingers trailed down, lazily dragging along the curve of my tattoo. I turned my head, and he looked up at me, moving his fingers to my cheek. "You're beautiful."

“And you’re really, really out of it,” I said, desperately trying to ignore how his words… his soft eyes made my heart flutter. Jake smiled, soft and full of admiration, ultimately forcing me to clear my throat and stand up. “I’ll have the guys toss this in the wash.”

My brothers were already by the door, holding two thick blankets and a giant bowl our family used when someone got sick. They shoved the things into my arms and peeked into my room. "Are you okay with this?" Peter asked softly. "Patrick, or I can take care of him."

"I've got it, Pete," I assured him with a smile.

Patrick ruffled my hair. "We're one holler away if you need us, little sister."

I tossed the blankets in my armchair by the door and set the bowl on top of them, combing my hair down and lovingly flipping them off before turning and closing the door. My bed was empty. "Jake?" The bathroom door creaked slightly, and a light commotion echoed in the bathroom. I carefully pushed it open to find Jake lying shirtless in the bathtub. His eyes screwed shut as he tried to steady his breathing. "Jake?"

"I just need a minute," he said breathlessly. Then, frustrated and embarrassed, his face tightened.

"That's okay," I said slowly, standing next to the tub. "There any room for one more?"

Jake looked up at me for a minute before silently sitting up and making space for me to climb into the tub with him. It was tight and uncomfortable, but I could tell that having me close helped him relax. "This is fucking ridiculous."

"Yeah, I've always said they need to make bathtubs bigger."

He chuckled. "Not that." Gesturing to himself, he scoffed. "Me. I'm… I'm being fucking stupid."

"No, you aren't," I assured him, resting my chin on my knees. "If it works, it's not stupid."

I thought he was going to laugh again, but instead, he made a strange noise. "You know, I used to lay in the bathtub at Simone's parent's house and hold my breath until I felt like I was going to pass out." The confession was quiet but focused. His tense posture didn't shift as he continued, "I wanted to feel what she did… Wanted to know if my mom suffered when she drowned." He shook his head as if he was trying to keep certain memories from taking root. "When I was a bit older, I added water - almost accidentally drowned myself before Simone found me. She was livid. Dragged me out of the bath and screamed at me for being selfish and stupid. And that was when she told me the truth." He took deep breaths as his face twisted into an expression of anger and guilt. "It wasn't an accident. My mom… She walked into the water, and she chose to die."

I forced myself to stay calm, though the new information made my own guilt about Jake's involvement with my trauma rage inside me. This isn't about me. This is about him. I reminded myself. I wouldn't force my guilt on him, not when it wasn't his fault I felt that way, not when he needed me at this moment. "I'm sorry, Jake. That… That doesn't sound like it was easy."

His eyes met mine as a tear escaped his tight hold. "What did I do? What did I do to make her do that?" Oh, Jake… He shook his head, laughing quietly. "I know I'm an insufferable asshole… I know I'm annoying, selfish, and manipulative… But I just…." All I could hear was Simone. This was her voice in his head, her voice telling him it was his fault, that he was the problem.

"Listen to me," I instructed softly as I moved in the small tub, practically laying on top of him as I took hold of his face. "It wasn't your fault. None of it." He started to shake his head again, but I held firm. "You are not annoying or selfish or manipulative. You are a human being… One that is an asshole sometimes, but you just so happen to be one of the nicest assholes I've ever met."

"You don't really think that," he insisted.

"I told you about my mom," I countered. "I told you about my very impressive criminal record. If I wanted to lie to you, Jake, I would've done it by now."

He closed his eyes, leaning into my hands for a minute before quietly asking, "Why is it so easy with you?"

"Must be my unparalleled charisma."

Jake laughed, bright blue eyes staring up at me, free of his usual restrictions. I could see everything he felt and realized why he always forced himself to look so grumpy. Those blue eyes studied my face before moving to my hair as he lifted a hand to run his fingers through it. "I never thought I'd get this attached to you." He shook his head. "You were supposed to be easy… A quick fling to make me feel better."

I refrained from laughing. "Do I not make you feel better?"

"You do," he admitted. "You make me feel like myself."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Another tear rolled down his cheek. "It's been a long time since I've been me."

I brushed it away with my thumbs and smiled. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I really like you. The real you.”

With a smile, he nodded. “I really like you too.”

“Come on,” I gestured toward my room. “Let’s get you back in bed so you can sleep this off and wake up to that hangover.” With some help, he was back on his feet, and clumsily we made it back to my room, where he collapsed on my bed and watched me as I moved around the room to grab the blankets and bowl. I set it down on his side and smiled. “Just in case you can’t reach the bathroom again.” 

Unfolding the blanket, I spread it out over the top of him before grabbing my pajamas and changing quickly in the bathroom. Jake was still awake when I got back, watching the door for me. I sat on the empty side of the bed, gathered my pillow, and got ready to head to Patrick or Peter’s room for the night. Jake turned to look at me over his shoulder, and quietly he said, "You still owe me one.”

"I'm not kissing you," I replied with a shake of my head. "Especially not when you're this fucked up."

Jake looked nervous as he turned his head to look at me with those big watery eyes. "I wasn't gonna ask for that."

I finished taking my shoes off, tossing them in the far corner of my room. "What then?"

"Will you…" He paused. "Will you just… Hold me?"

It was such a simple request, one that was filled with years of vulnerable needs that had been pushed aside or ignored. I could see the doubt in his eyes as he waited for me to deny him this comfort as everyone else had before. He wouldn't get that denial tonight, not from me. I readjusted on the bed, fluffing my pillow before turning on my side toward him, carefully wrapping my arms around his bare, tense back. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah…" He whispered, reaching up to gently hold my hand, pressing it to the heartbeat that pounded in his chest. "It's perfect."

I leaned over and kissed his cheek before I curled up again and set my forehead between his shoulder blades. “Goodnight, Jake.”

He didn’t say it back, just yawned and mumbled my name as he slowly relaxed into the soft bedding. The longer I lay there, pressed up against his warm skin, the more unavoidable the truth became. I was comfortable… I felt happy and safe alone in a room with Jake. My fingers gently traced the dark ink around his lower bicep, a thick band of black, before moving to the long-stemmed flowers that intricately lined the skin of his upper arm. As I traced the lines of his tattoos, I quietly admitted to myself that I liked Jake… Liked him more than I anticipated. 

"I never thought I'd get this attached to you either,” I whispered before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep, holding onto Jake with the silent promise that I’d still be there when he woke up.

*

Irish folk music blared through the walls, pulling me out of my blissful sleep, curled into the warmth on the right-hand side of the bed. With a frustrated groan, I rolled over and walked to the door, opening it to peek out at the two shirtless idiots that were arguing over who got the shower first. “TURN THE MUSIC DOWN!”

“JESUS!” Patrick yelled back. “Don’t gotta yell, girly.”

“Turn. It. Down.” I pointed my finger at Peter. “Don’t make me get my gloves.”

Peter chuckled. “Relax, sis, I’ll have him turn it down.”

Turning back, I slammed my door and flopped back onto my bed, resting my head against the lean muscle of Jake’s chest. My eyes shot open. Jake's chest? I lifted my head and looked down at him, those blue eyes shining in the sunlight as he looked up at me with a smirk. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I said, still slightly dazed as the events of last night came back to me in a rush. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, all things considered,” he answered, eyes drifting down to look at my sleepwear. “I’ve got a few questions, though.”

I scratched my head, sitting up to give him some space. “I’m guessing the first one is something along the lines of ‘what the fuck am I doing in your bed’?”

He nodded. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Well, I don’t have a full account of where you were yesterday, but at around ten, you showed up outside Ozzy’s and tried to fight a biker. So I brought you up to Patrick and Peter’s - my dad’s old place - and put you to bed.”

“Where’d my shirt go?”

“In the wash,” I answered with a smirk. “You threw up on it somewhere along your journey.”

He sighed. “That’s a new low, even for me.”

I shrugged. “Eh, it could’ve been worse.” After a minute of Irish folk music playing in the background, I picked at my nails. “So… how much do you remember about last night?”

“Not a lot,” he said. “Why? Did I do something embarrassing?”

“Depends on what you consider embarrassing.”

“Well, my pants are still on, so that’s a good sign.”

I met his curious gaze. “Do you remember climbing into my bathtub?”

Jake’s smile faded as he nodded. “I remember that yeah.”

Good, I breathed a sigh of relief and nudged him. “Do you remember practically inhaling my pillows and calling me beautiful?”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t blame me for the pillows. They’re soft, and they…” Then, pausing, he shook his head, committing to whatever words he held back. “They smell like you.”

“I smell like me, too,” I retorted. “And you’re not constantly trying to inhale me.”

“I would,” he replied, pulling his arms behind his head to lounge. “That cherry vibe you’ve got really does it for me.”

I shoved his knee. “Weirdo.”

“As for calling you beautiful, I hardly think that’s a surprise.” His eyes looked me up and down. “You are beautiful. And you know it, which is kind of hot.”

Standing, I shook my head at him. “Shower’s through there, though my idiot brothers will likely be hogging all the hot water. Any preferences for breakfast?”

Jake sat up fully, eyes glued to my exposed legs. “I believe I was promised shitty eggs a while ago.”

“Shitty eggs it is,” I replied. “I’ll grab your shirt for you and leave it on my bed.”

Patrick and Peter turned to look at me when I closed my bedroom door. Peter nodded to the full coffee pot and smiled. “Figured you’d be out here pretty quick this morning.”

Patrick sipped at his mug. “How’s your little boyfriend?”

“He’s fine,” I answered, grabbing a pan and the eggs out of the fridge.

“Ohhh making him breakfast too?” Patrick added. “How domestic!”

I slapped his back with the spatula. “Shut up and behave yourself! He had a rough night. The last thing he needs is you two morons making this weird.”

Peter looked up from the paper. “We’ll be perfect, gentlemen.”

Patrick stood next to the bathroom door. “Oi! Don’t run the sink while the showers on, or you’ll be tapping ice off that pecker!”

My head hit the dryer as I groaned. “I fucking hate you two.” I grabbed Jake’s shirt out of the dryer and put it on my bed. 

Cooking was the only part of the morning I enjoyed. It was simple and straightforward, with the room to be as good as you made it. Breakfast was something I could control, one of the few things in life that only changed when I did so. The eggs were simple enough, an old staple from living with my dad and brothers before going back to my mom. Dad always called them "shitty eggs" though it was arguable that they only tasted shitty when he cooked them. 

Having a background in food, I took on most meals after I came to live here permanently. That was when "shitty eggs" turned into "omelets". Dad still cooked his horrible breakfast for me when I'd drained myself on a bender or just had a bad night. Shitty eggs came back into use after he died, and Patrick and I had to keep things afloat while Peter went through chemo.

The shower turned off, and a few moments later, Jake came out of my room, fixing his shirt and jacket with a blank expression I now saw through. He was nervous. Clearing his throat, he looked around, taking in the small space of bright colors and thrifted furniture. Patrick broke the silence, lifting his mug, "Good morning."

"Morning," Jake replied stiffly.

Peter smiled from behind his book and gestured to the seat across from him. "Breakfast should be ready any minute."

Jake sat down, setting his hands on top of the table and tapping his fingers against the old wood. “This is a nice place.”

“It’s small,” Patrick said. “But it’s got a lot of history.”

“I can imagine. How long have you all lived here?”

“It’s been in the family for years, so pretty much forever,” Peter answered. “Well, except for Patrick. He came to live with us when we were… I don’t know… eight, nine, maybe?”

Jake’s brows furrowed slightly. “You’re not related?”

Patrick shook his head, his face tighter as he worked past the slightly uncomfortable question. “Nah, I lived on the street before Jack found me. The orphanage didn’t exactly appeal to my tastes.”

“Both your parents died then?”

“Don’t know,” Patrick admitted quietly, looking down at the coffee swirling in his mug. “Never asked.”

Sensing the rising tension in the burly man, I turned the stovetop off and plated the eggs, serving them quickly and clapping my hand on his shoulder. “Family ain’t always blood.”

That brought a smile to his face as he looked up at me and nodded. “Family’s more than blood.”

“Alright, enough talking. Eat before your food gets cold,” I instructed everyone, taking my seat across from Patrick beside Jake.

He looked at the plate of eggs and then at me, “These are supposed to be shitty?”

I laughed. “It’s just what we call eggs around here.”

“Shitty eggs were dad's specialty,” Peter mused with a grin. “Man could cook any meat you gave him but would always manage to fuck up the eggs.”

“I liked his eggs,” Patrick insisted.

“Yeah, well, you were a kiss ass.”

He flipped me off and used his fork to shovel the food into his mouth as quickly as possible. Patrick was a notorious inhaler of anything edible. It was most likely a residual habit from his time living on the streets, but it became rather endearing. Finally, he gulped down his coffee and stood, clearing his dishes and giving me a kiss on the head. “You’re on Ozzy duty today. Try and be quick. He’s getting sneaky about showing up early.”

“Stubborn old goat,” I replied into my eggs.

Patrick gave Jake a pat on the arm as he passed and rubbed Peter’s bald head. “Have a good day, misfits!”

Jake ate slowly, being far quieter than I expected him to be. Peter kept looking up at him every few minutes, watchful and a little bit amused. “What are your plans for today, Pete?”

“A whole lot of nothing,” he answered. “I gotta feed the alley cats in a few minutes, though.”

“You and your strays,” I mumbled. “How many came last time?”

“Twenty-three.”

I smiled. “Maybe you can start your own show. The Cat Man.”

He laughed. “You’re hilarious.” Then, gathering his dishes and disappearing into his room to get the bag of cat goodies he’d kept on hand, he stole a chunk of my eggs off my plate and headed toward the door, “Thanks for breakfast, sis!”

“You’re welcome, asshole!”

The door closed, and the quiet buzz of the city waking up outside was all that remained. When Jake and I had finished our food, I took our dishes and started washing them while he looked around the apartment more carefully than he had before. He picked up picture frames and leafed through books left lying around. It was weird having him here, a place that had been - and still was - one of my safe havens from the world outside. But as weird as it was, it felt… natural… like Jake belonged here just as much as I did.

I was surprised when he didn’t ask any questions, though maybe he wasn’t feeling particularly curious after the night he had. “So…” I started, “What happened yesterday?”

He shrugged. “It’s a bit of a blur, to be honest.”

“I… I was worried about you.” He turned his head, eyes meeting mine for only a moment before he looked away. “We all were.”

With a scoff, he plucked a book off a table. “I doubt that.”

“So it may have mainly been me, but still.” I refocused on the dishes as I asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Jake answered. “I think I did enough whining last night.”

I turned to him and shook my head. “That’s not what that was.”

His smile wasn’t real but rather a visual defense he put up to try and breeze past the uncomfortable topic. “Crying in your bathtub over my dead mom sounds an awful lot like whining to me.”

“Then you need a new definition of whining.” I placed the dishes on the rack to dry and leaned back against the counter. “It was brave of you to admit all of that to me. Even if you don’t think so.”

"I'm sorry for putting all this on you," he said after a long moment of silence. The shame and guilt lace his words as well as his eyes.

"Don't apologize for that. Not to me."

He smiled a little at my use of his own words against him. “Thanks.”

“So… you have plans today?” I asked.

“Not really,” he admitted. “Unless avoiding Simone’s phone calls counts as plans.”

“Is she that upset?” Part of me felt gladdened by that fact… glad that he’d sought me out and not her, but I forced myself to let that go as Jake looked up worriedly.

“She’s livid. I haven’t pulled something like this in a while, and let’s just say, after everything I put her through a few months ago, this is kind of the last straw with her. Howard too.” He looked back down at his hands as he shrugged. “Apparently, I have behavioral issues.”

With a laugh, I made a face. “Behavioral issues? That doesn’t sound like you at all!” Jake only rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Well, I’ve got some errands to run today, but you’re more than welcome to tag along.”

He considered my offer for a minute. “You sure I won’t annoy you?”

“Oh, I’m positive you will,” I answered with a smirk. “But I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” he said. “What’s first?”

“I’m going to get dressed, so why don’t you head down to the gym and wait? Patrick will probably keep you pretty entertained.”

He nodded, following my advice and heading down the narrow steps to The Ring while I headed back to my room. I washed my face and brushed my teeth before digging through my drawers to find the right size of clothes. I really need to clean in here. Pulling a pair of jeans on and throwing on the first t-shirt I could find, I moved back to the bathroom to quickly pull my messy hair into two simple braids on either side of my head, combing down the shorter strands that refused to cooperate with a bit of water.

The lights in the gym flipped on as I descended the steps. I could hear Patrick’s loud voice coaching, and as I rounded the corner, I could see Jake standing in front of a punching bag with a pair of gloves on and a curious glint in his eyes. Leaning back against the wall, I watched the two of them for a minute. Pat showed him a few practice punches, moving through each step slowly so Jake could watch and learn the proper technique. His fists hit the bag in quick strikes, landing exactly where intended in seconds.

Jake did his best, throwing out slower punches and focusing more on the technique behind them rather than hitting as hard as possible. The last hit rattled the chains holding the bag in place. Patrick hummed. “Not bad. If you’re really lookin to learn a thing or two, Lil miss Leanin’ Lena could surely teach you.”

I scrunched up my nose and stepped toward them. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“It’s cute,” Patrick insisted.

“Not as cute as Prancin’ Pattie.” 

He pointed at me with a deep glare. “It’s Powerful Pattie, now!”

I nudged Jake. “Come on, tough guy, we’ve got work to do.” He gave his gloves back to Patrick and followed me toward the alley door. “See you later, Prancin’!” 

Dodging the rag he tossed my way, I pulled the old door open and led Jake out to the alley. Peter was a way down, sitting on the ground with bowls of cat food neatly lined up along the wall and about thirty cats purring and rubbing themselves on him. He waved to us as we made our way across the alley to Jack and Ozzy’s back door.

“Isn’t it a bit early to be opening the bar?” He asked as we moved down the stairs into the dark space.

Flipping on the lights, I answered, “We’re not opening it. Patrick and I alternate helping Oz every morning. He doesn’t know, so keep it quiet, but he’s not getting any younger, and he gets messier every day, so we organize the ledgers and make sure he can find everything he needs to and move some boxes around, and unpack some things. You know, the usual.”

Jake chuckled, sitting and watching me as I moved around behind the bar. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It’s not so bad,” I assured him. “Besides, I know Oz would do it for me if the roles were reversed.”

“I’m pretty sure you could get a homeless person to do this for you if you really wanted.”

I grinned at him. “Because I’m so lovable?”

“I was gonna say convincing,” he replied. “But lovable works too, I guess.”

“Well, get up and help me unbox these cases,” I replied, nodding to the boxes shoved off to the far end of the bar.

He stepped around, taking my place as I moved to the back office and flipped the light on. Ozzy’s office was always a mess, but it was more organized chaos than anything. He had specific stacks of papers dedicated to bills and health inspections, and inventory. The one thing he always seemed to lose track of was his reading glasses, so Patrick and I got him a container to put them in and painted it the ugliest, brightest yellow we could find. He still lost them, but it wasn’t as often now.

I could hear Jake unboxing and stacking the alcohol while I tidied a space in the center of Ozzy’s things and staged everything he’d need to look over for the day so he’d find it easily but not suspect mine or Patrick’s involvement. Ozzy loved having us help out around the bar, but when it came to the little things like bills and paperwork, things he contributed to his share of work within our odd little family, he was insistent on doing it himself. Hence the sneaking in and secrecy.

After the office looked just right, I rejoined Jake in the front. His eyes lit up as he admired the back wall of every alcohol Ozzy kept on the shelf. He’d gotten through one case and had just opened the other that was filled with more glassware. Side by side, we polished the glasses when Jake suddenly chuckled. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” he replied with a huge grin. “Just remembering that night you stayed late so Nicky could go to his kid's recital or whatever.”

“Oh god,” I grumbled.

“What was it you said?” He asked through his laughter. “You can flirt with me all you want, but that’s as far as you’re gonna get?”

I bit my lip and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

He set his glass up, leaning against the bar. “And here we are. Having shared a bed not once but twice. Having seen each other half naked and at our lowest.” With a thoughtful hum, he looked around the empty bar. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Not me,” I answered, turning to grab another glass to hide the blush that crept up my neck. “If I recall correctly, you didn’t exactly take that well.”

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “Can’t blame me, though.” He gestured to me. “Look at you. Anyone would be a bit grumpy after getting rejected by you.”

“I hardly rejected you.” I shook my head and watched him polish the last glass, focusing far too closely on his fingers and the way his muscles moved when he held the glass just a little tighter. “I just didn’t want you to think your hard work flirting with me was going to get you anywhere.”

He narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “It got me pretty far.”

I grabbed hold of the empty boxes and rolled my eyes at him. “Whatever you say, grump.”

*

After finishing up at Ozzy’s, Jake went to the store with me. It was not at all how I’d imagined my day going, but there we were, walking side by side down the isles working through the list Peter had given me. Placing the cat food in our small cart, Jake looked up at me and asked, “So Patrick really lived on the streets?”

“Yeah,” I answered, dropping another item into the cart. “He doesn’t like to talk about it much, but from what I know, his parents dropped him off at the fire station and just vanished. He was in the orphanage for a while, and then he moved to foster care, but you’ve met Pat he’s… he’s a lot. After another family ditched him, he just kind of ran away.”

“And your dad just took him in?”

I nodded. “Pat would use the gym to sleep during the winters. My dad caught him a few times before he finally got the chance to invite him upstairs for a warm meal. After that, he just kind of… stayed. My dad adopted him when he was thirteen.”

Jake shook his head. “I never would’ve guessed it. The two of you look related, and you certainly act like you are.”

“Family’s more than blood,” I repeated. “Patrick might not be my blood, but he’s my family. We bicker, fight, and poke fun at each other, but we also help each other with anything and everything without judgment.”

That last bit made Jake’s eyes scrunch up. It shouldn’t have surprised me that the notion of no judgments was something he’d have a hard time believing. After all, he grew up with Simone, the queen of judging. “Oh, pass me a thing of mustard,” he said after checking the list again. I leaned back and grabbed one of the bottles, handing it to him so he could toss it in the cart. “Thanks.”

We got back to the apartment around noon, and the gym was in full swing. Patrick coached from the side of one of the rings, holding his hand out to give me the money for his share of the groceries and taking a water bottle from one of the bags. While Jake and I put things away, my stomach growled. “Hey, do you like middle eastern food?”

“I guess,” he replied, shutting the fridge. “Don’t think I’ve had much of it.”

“Wanna grab some lunch? I know a pretty good spot.”

Nana’s wasn’t too busy when we walked across the street and into the front door. Her place was small and only really well known among the locals of the neighborhood, which was another reason we all loved it so much. The first person I saw was Dom, sitting in his corner with a few of his boys talking business. The second was Nana, though I didn’t see her so much as the headscarf covering my eyes as she tugged me into her tight embrace.

“Habibi!” she cheered as she pulled back, smiling warmly, and she pinched my cheeks, fussing over my thin frame before finally taking notice of Jake. Her eyes grew nearly as wide as the rims of her glasses as she looked back at me with a raised brow. “And who might this strapping young man be?”

I smiled, carefully pulling Jake forward so Nana could devour him. “Nana, this is Jake. Jake, this is Aya Nazari.”

“Please call me Nana!” The old woman insisted. With raised brows, she turned back to me and whispered, too loudly, “He’s very handsome.”

Jake smirked as he pretended not to hear her. “Think you can squeeze us in for lunch?”

“Of course!” She shouted, shoving both of us toward a table closest to the front. “How hungry are you? Just a little or a lot?” I opened my mouth to answer, but she waved me off, “I’ll just bring you all your favorites!”

“Nana!” I tried, but the old woman was already gone to the back of the kitchen.

Jake settled into his seat with raised brows. “Your grandma is quick.”

I sighed. “Yeah, prepare yourself for at least five full meals.”

“I knew I shoulda worn my sweat pants,” he teased, eyes turning to the diner to look around.

“You do that everywhere you go?” I asked, finally letting my curiosity win out.

“What?”

“That serious study you do of every new place.” I did my best to recreate it. “You do it everywhere, or are the places I bring you just really interesting?”

Jake shrugged, looking around with a smile. “You do bring me to some pretty interesting places. But, yeah, I do it everywhere. You can get a lot of information from people’s spaces. It helps me get a sense of what to expect.”

“Not a surprise guy, I take it?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I hate surprises.”

I nodded in agreeance. “Agreed. Surprises suck.”

Nana brought water to our table with a bright smile. “Abdul is working on your food.” She pulled up a chair and settled in next to us. “So, tell me about yourself, Jake.”

“There’s not much to tell,” he answered.

“Nonsense!” Nana insisted. “If my Lena is with you, you must be special!” She pinched my cheek. “She has an eye for good souls.”

Abdul shouted from the back, and Nana sighed, standing up to shout back at him. I cleared my throat with a sip of water. “Sorry about her. She’s kind of nosey.”

He kept looking around with a faint smile on his lips. “Old people usually are.”

Lunch with Jake proved to be an interesting thing. He didn’t open up much more about his night or what led him to try to fight the gang outside of Jack and Ozzy’s, but he opened up about small things. He loved food and art and collecting things like rocks. So when he brought up his photography, I leaned forward, practically landing in the food Nana put in front of me. “You have a camera?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking another bite of his food. “Is that impressive?”

“Yes!” I smiled wider. “You’ll have to show me some of your pictures sometime.”

Jake leaned forward, cocky attitude and wicked gleaming eyes watching me with glee. “What’s in it for me?”

I shrugged. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“You’re into photography?”

“Painting,” I corrected.

He laughed. “A cook, a boxer, and an artist? You, Lena Harrow, are probably the most confusing and contradictory woman I’ve ever met.”

Raising my brows, I tilted my head, mulling over the title with joy. “I like the sound of that.”

When we finally gathered our things to go, Nana slid a pile of boxes onto the counter. “You are out and about, yes?”

“Yeah, what do you need, Nana?”

“Will you take these to Prue and Quinn?” She asked. “Abdul’s back is flaring up again, so he cannot walk all that way.”

Grabbing the boxes, I nodded. “Say no more. We’ve got good backs, so it should be pretty easy.”

The old woman wove around the boxes Jake now held, hugged him tightly, and said a few words in Arabic before pulling back and squeezing his cheek. "Don't be a stranger!" She turned to me and patted my cheek. "You bring him back next time! Both of you are so thin, wasting away!"

“Have a good night, Nana!” I replied, quickly moving through the door Jake held open for me. “Alright. Prue’s this way, and Quinn will be a street or so down from her.”

The sky had turned a beautiful shade of light orange as the sun had just started to disappear behind the tall buildings. Jake and I walked the block and a half to the small tattoo shop where Prue worked. “Didn’t know Prue was a tattoo artist,” Jake mused, admiring the neon signs.

“Where do you think I got all my ink?” I asked, pushing the door open with my hip. “Prue’s the only one I trust to get a tattoo from around here.”

Jake’s eyes skimmed down to my arm. “Well, if you’re an example of her talent, I’d say it's safe to assume she's the best in the business.”

I beamed at the compliment and smiled even wider. Prue’s chair was in the back, where she sat leaning over one of Dom’s boys, focused on his leg. Katie, the apprentice that ran the front desk, smiled at me.“Nana’s?” I nodded, and she extended her hands over the counter. “Gimmegimmegimme!”

She took her box and groaned at the full aroma of spices. “Does Prue have time to eat?”

“She should,” the girl replied, ripping open the plastic holding her silverware. “Last I checked, she only had a few more spots to finish, so she should be on touch-ups right now.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Katie.”

Katie looked back up, this time her eyes meeting Jakes as she swallowed a large bite of food and cleared her throat. A blush tinted her cheeks as she smiled sheepishly at him. “Uhh… Hi…”

Jake ate it up, smiling with a tilt of his head. “Hey.”

She looked away, holding in a giggle. “Make yourselves comfortable, I guess.” Once Jake turned away from her, she looked at me with wide eyes and a not-at-all-subtle whisper, “Oh my god, I think I’m pregnant now!” Jake glanced over his shoulder, and she squeaked, closing her mouth tightly. “Are you and him…?” She signed, making a crude gesture for fucking. 

“No.” I signed back.

Katie raised her eyebrows. “Are you planning on…?” She made the same gesture again.

I rolled my eyes and turned away from her, heading down toward Prue’s station. Jake followed close behind as I stopped short of her to make sure I didn’t startle her and mess her up. Ryker, the man in the chair and one of Dom’s most trusted “employees,” smiled and nodded to me. “Lena! Long time no see!”

“Good to see you’re tastes,” I gestured to the skull tattoo, “Havent changed, Ry.”

He shrugged. “You know me, all about that hardcore shit.”

I laughed. “Yeah. Hows the pain compare to the mommy tattoo you have on your ass?”

“Oh fuck you!”

Prue looked up, taking note of Ryker’s mouth moving before she turned and smiled up at me. “LENA!” She shouted, setting her tools down to free her hands. “What’s up?”

“Lunch.” I nodded to Jake, who held the other containers of food in his hands with an awkward smile. 

She made a sound of glee, hopping up out of her chair and giving Jake only seconds to resituate the food before she wrapped her arms around his middle, holding her gloved hands away from him with an equally loud, “JAKE!”

He glanced at me with a chuckle as he gave her a pat on the back. “Hey… how’s it goin’?”

Reading his lips, she smiled wider. “Good,” she said, pulling back. “He’s running errands with you?”

I shrugged. “It’s been a weird morning.”

“That’s so fucking cute!” She scrunched up her nose and squealed. “Give me one second. I just need to clean him up and wrap his knee.”

As she turned back to her work, Jake smiled at me with a raised brow. “Seems like she likes me.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “You tend to have that effect on people when you’re not being a dick.”

“Good to know,” he replied, clearly pleased with my answer and the way Katie kept leaning over the counter to admire his ass.

Once Prue finished, she sat behind the counter and dug into her food. “Are you guys staying?”

“We’ve gotta get this food to Quinn.”

“Tell that bitch I said hi!” She replied with a big grin. “Oh, and ask her what time we’re going dress shopping.”

“Oh god, that’s right,” I whined. “I’ll ask.”

Prue swallowed her food, wiped her mouth, and gave Jake another hug. “Bye, Jake.”

He waved, already migrating toward the door. “See ya.”

“God, he’s cute when he’s nervous!” Prue giggled. “I’ll be expecting a full rundown of what the hell you two have been getting up to today.”

“Whatever. Enjoy your food.” I signed back following Jake. “Sorry about her. She’s a very touchy person.”

Jake agreed, his hands hanging closer to his sides as he walked. “It’s alright. I was more concerned with her assistant.”

I laughed. “Katie’s sweet, but she’s not very good at the whole admiring from afar thing.”

“Admiring?” He raised his brows and grinned.

“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t notice her checking you out.”

He made a noise, slowly drifting closer to me until our shoulders pressed together as we walked, his blue eyes boring down into mine. “Are you jealous, princess?”

I scoffed. “I hardly need to be.”

“Oh?”

“Admit it, I could have you anytime I wanted you,” I answered, eyes instinctually looking away from his to focus on his soft lips.

“You think it’d be that easy?”

“Well, wouldn’t it?” I asked, batting my eyelashes as I looked back up at him.

Jake shook his head, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment. “I like to think I’d give you a little trouble.”

Tilting my head, I smiled. “Only a little?”

He cursed under his breath as I stepped ahead, leaving him behind me to check out my ass as I walked. The strip club wasn’t far from Prue’s shop, and it was always a place people could find fairly easily due to the intensely bright lights and the thumping music. Once we got close enough, I slowed down to let Jake catch up to me and advised, “Keep your hands in your pockets.”

Jake scoffed. “Think I can’t control myself around a few strippers?”

“No,” I rolled my eyes. “I’m more concerned you’ll lose your wallet. Half of the girls working here around lunchtime are some of the best pickpockets in the city.”

“I mean, a nice pair of tits to the face would be quite the distraction.” He agreed, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

The club, called Busty's, bumped with lively music as we entered. It was relatively quiet. Daytime wasn't exactly when the stripping business was booming. Quinn would be in the dressing room, doing her extensive routine to get ready for her shift tonight. I nodded to the bouncer up front by the counter, and he nodded back. "Quinn's in the back. Any of that for me?"

I pulled the smallest box from Jake's hand. "Nana said this one has extra love in it."

"That woman is a saint!" He cried, accepting the food with a smile. Pointing his fork at Jake, his eyes narrowed. "This one with you?"

"Yep," I looked back at Jake with a smile. "I know he looks like trouble, but I promise he'll behave."

Shaking his head, Jake flipped me off. "If you say he's cool, then he's cool. Try not to let him near Crystal, though. Bitch is on one hell of a streak with wallets."

Linking my arm with Jakes, I pulled him forward. "Thanks for the heads up!"

"I look like trouble?" Jane questioned as we moved through the dimly lit main room.

"Yeah. Don't pretend you don't know exactly what I'm talking about." I gestured to his outfit. "The black clothes, leather, piercings, chains. You just scream bad boy, bartender."

"So I just scream I'm your type?"

"I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I?"

Jake leaned in as the music got louder. "Not on my watch, princess."

Past the hideous carpet and the multiple stages filled with varying light colors was the golden sign that said dressing room, staff only. I hurried up the stairs and knocked on the door. “Quinn, are you at least somewhat decent?”

“Not at all,” she answered. “But you can’t see my tits, so come on in.”

The dressing room was bright, far brighter than the actual club was. Everything was pink and gold, with sparkles embedded into every surface. Quinn sat at a little desk with her name written on the mirror in lipstick. She wore a lacy black, mostly sheer outfit and was just finishing up her eyelashes when Jake and I walked in. Through the mirror, she saw him and smirked. “Jake? Now, what is a fine gentleman like you doing with our little troublemaker?”

“Just running a few errands.”

Quinn practically groaned. “You have him running errands with you?” She purred, turning to look up at me as I moved to set her food down. “How cute.”

I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at her. “Nana sends her love.”

“Perfect timing!” She said, tearing into the food. “If you’d have brought me this after I did my lips, I would have killed you.”

Jake awkwardly looked around, trying not to pry into the more intimate things thrown about the room while still trying to satisfy his curiosity. “Prue wants a time for dress shopping.”

“I was thinking day of at like six?”

“In the morning?” I groaned. “I hate you two.”

She shook her head. “So, what have you two been up to today?”

“Like he said, errands,” I replied quickly.

“Errands or,” she raised her hands to do air quotes as she sensually whispered, “Errands?”

“Don’t trip on the stage,” I teased, grabbing Jake by the hand and leading him out of the dressing room.

She waved. “Bye bitch! Bye, Jake!”

We walked out of the club and back into the chilling air. Jake and I walked closer together, our hands still linked for a moment before I pulled my fingers free of his. For a while, we just walked, the quiet that had settled between us comfortable and free. It felt nice to spend time with him outside of the group, where he felt less inclined to hide away his every thought. As we grew closer to the apartment, Jake sighed. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Thanks for tagging along,” I replied. “It was weirdly fun.”

He kept his eyes trained ahead of us as he asked, “So, you think I’m gonna get fired?”

I watched his face and saw the worry and the fear that lingered in his furrowed brows and tight eyes. “I don’t know. Howard was pretty pissed.”

“What’d Simone say?” I knew what he meant by asking. Knew he wanted to know if the hundreds of messages he’d gotten full of her anger… of her threatening to leave him behind, were true.

“She told him not to,” I said honestly. I was no fan of Simone and never would be, but Jake cared deeply for her, and I couldn’t bare to hurt him more than he already had been.

He nodded, breathing out a stressed breath and taking in a new, relieved one. “I’d say it’s about fifty-fifty then.”

“Oi!” Patrick hollered from across the street. He waved us over with wide arm gestures and flamboyant movements. “Come on!”

Jake and I crossed the street and fell into step behind my brothers as they began to walk. “Where are we going?”

Peter wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “To get that drink we owe you too, and that moon-eyed bitch.”

I gave him a glare. “Pete-”

“Relax, I’m not partaking.”

“Not even a sip.”

“You’re no fun.”

The sun finally set, and blue hues filled the city's skyline. All the bright signs kicked on and lit up the streets with that glow I loved so much. Walking through the neighborhood at night always made me feel like I was a kid again, sitting on my dad's shoulders as he pointed out his favorite spots and greeted everyone that passed with a fond hello. I looked over at Jake, slightly breathless at the way the colors illuminated him. Was he always so handsome? I wondered as his smile nearly made my heart burst. Oh my god, pull it together! I turned back around at the large crowd spilling out the doors of the old Irish pub.

“Here?” I asked.

Patrick smirked. “The bet was we bought drinks, didn’t ever say you got to choose where.”

The old pub was always packed, loud, and filled with drunken Irish men looking for a good drink and maybe a good fight if the mood struck. Wooden walls were lined with every type of whiskey and rum and Irish-made beer. Hanging from the ceiling, old streamers of green four-leaf clovers hung, likely from some old celebration of Saint Patrick’s Day.

We all sat down at the first table we could find, Jake and I on one side and Pat and Pete on the other, grinning like fools. They loved this place, not just because of the drinks and the loud people but because of how much it reminded them of our dad. I saw the appeal but found comfort in dads memory in smaller, less chaotic locations. Patrick left the table to get the drinks, and Peter leaned forward. “So, how was your day?”

“Good,” I answered, glancing at Jake. “We just ran errands.”

Jake shrugged. “It beats getting my ass chewed out at work, so I’d say it was good.”

Peter nodded, eyes glued to my face and the expression or lack thereof. He saw right through me. Saw into my very mind and ate up all the thoughts of Jake that weren’t friend specific. He’d always been able to do that with every boy I liked since the dawn of time. It was frustrating to no end, but this was particularly so. After all the fuss I’d made over Jake being a friend, Peter would never let me live it down, and Patrick… God, Patrick would be the worst of them.

When Patrick returned, sliding each of us our drinks and setting a tiny shot glass of whiskey down in front of Peter, the crowd began to pull their attention to our table. Jake and Peter stood out like sore thumbs in the sea of red hair and rich browns. Jake, clad in all black and leather with chains and earrings and everything that screamed city boy and Peter, bald and thin and not drinking. Patrick sent as many dirty glares as he could to try and get them to get the message, but it seemed like tonight was not the night for silent deterring. 

We drank and conversed, but Patrick’s tenseness only seemed to grow as the crowd began whispering about our brother and my friend Jake. It only took one pointed comment to blow his top, but what surprised me was that it wasn’t a comment about Peter that did it in… but about Jake. I hadn’t heard the full thing, but whatever they’d said had Patrick on his feet in a manner of seconds, with Peter closely moving behind him.

Jake watched the fight break out with wide eyes and a quiet fuck. “Your brothers work quickly to defend your honor.”

“Oh, they didn’t say anything about me,” I assured him. “I look Irish enough for them.”

"Then what was all that about?"

"They insulted you." 

I watched Jake's face shift. That strong mask of disinterest and uncaring fell and exposed the disbelief that lay beneath it. "Why would they do that?"

"You're part of the group now, aren't you?" I asked. A hopeful look shined in his eyes as he shrugged. "Patrick's protective. He can insult you all night, but god help anyone else who does it." After a minute, I bumped his shoulder. "You said a mob was better than nothing. So... Welcome to the mob, Jake."

Patrick dropped himself back into his chair, and Peter laughed as he followed. "Those FUCKING CUNTS," Patrick yelled, causing more shots and curses to fly from the bar. Then, he smiled smugly, "Won't be botherin' ya again, little brother."

"Little brother?" Jake asked.

"Sorry," Peter said. "Copperhead calls everyone brother or sister. He's a big family guy."

"Don't mean nothin' by it," he said. "If it bothers you."

For a second, I worried that Jake would take offense to my brother's too-intimate gestures. But, instead, he shook his head and cleared his throat. "No, it's fine. It doesn't bother me."

Patrick smiled. "Good. Now, I believe we were discussing drinks before we were so rudely interrupted."

As the night dragged on the more Jake seemed to relax. My brothers were idiots the majority of the time, but they did a hell of a job making lost people feel found. The bar started to close down by the time we gathered our things, paid our tab, and started home. Patrick and Peter took the front, loudly singing Irish folk music as they walked back toward the apartment. Jake and I hung back, enjoying the quiet, crisp midnight air. 

Somewhere up the road, a car engine revved, the sound making me turn my head and nearly trip over my own feet as I searched the street for that flash of red and white. Jake set a hand on my lower back, steadying me as he looked at the road. "It's just someone's old junker."

Patrick and Peter had stopped walking, too, both of them looking back at me, ready and willing to come rushing in if I needed them. I shook my head, and we started walking again. They waited until we were a little closer to do the same. Then, after taking a minute to get my heart to stop beating wildly, I spoke, nudging Jake’s shoulder, “I just realized you’ve gone all day without trying to play 20 questions.”

Jake chuckled. “I did, didn’t I?”

“I’ll give you a freebie if you want,” I offered.

"You still haven't told me about this,” he said, brushing my hair off my shoulder to trace the long scar that peeked out from beneath the collar of my shirt.

"It's not something I like to talk about," I answered, our pace slowing until we weren't even walking anymore.

"Is it worse than all the shit with your mom?"

Worse. That was a mild way to put it. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, smoothing his thumb over the jagged edge of the skin. "I just want you to know you can trust me when, if, you're ready to talk about it."

I set my hand over his and looked up into his eyes. "I do trust you, Jake."

He smiled, looking up the street at Patrick and Peter as they waited for us. "I better go home. Wouldn't want Lena to miss me too much."

I rolled my eyes and smiled, the nervous tension from his question vanishing. "Yeah, she can be kind of clingy."

Jake shrugged. "I don't mind."

"See you at work tomorrow?" I asked as he took a step back.

"Depends on if I still have a job or not."

"I told Howard he should let it slide, but I don't know how much influence I have in managerial affairs."

He smiled, waving the concern away, and wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. "Don't worry about it, princess. I'm sure I'll be fine either way."

“Goodnight, Jake," I said, taking hold of the leather to pull it tighter around myself.

“Goodnight, Lena," he replied, looking at me for a minute before he turned toward the street to call a cab.

I rejoined Patrick and Peter, ignoring how both gave me that look. Patrick opened his mouth. "Don't say a word," I warned.

He put his hands up, innocently smiling. "I was just gonna say tonight was fun." There was a long pause. "And ask how long you're gonna wait to fuck him, you know, now that you're being realistic with yourself."

Raising my hand, I chased after him. "Stop running, and let me slap you!"

#fic: nightshade #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #sweetbitter jake x oc #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x lena #sweetbitter jake and lena #sweetbitter lena #sweetbitter #jake x lena #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter santos #sweetbitter will #sweetbitter tess #sweetbitter ocs #sweetbitter isaac #sweetbitter patrick #sweetbitter peter #sweetbitter ozzy #sweetbitter quinn #sweetbitter prue #tom sturridge jake #tom sturridge fanfiction #tom sturridge x reader #tom sturridge

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade Chapter 19 Sneak Peek!

 "So, uh, what do we do first?"

He stood, quietly reaching out to steady me with one hand while the other grabbed the sex shop bag. "You go get changed. I'll clean up and get my stuff ready."

"Which one do you want me in?" I asked, digging through the bag. "Holy shit Jake, how many did you buy?!"

With a modest shrug and a wide grin, he gathered up our glasses. "I imagined you'd look good in all of them, so I just grabbed the ones I liked most."

My mouth hung open slightly as I stumbled over my words. "There's like five in here. Lingerie isn't cheap!"

"What was it you said?" He hummed. "Right, it's my money."

"Let me at least pay for half," I offered, hazily searching for my bag.

Jake scoffed, setting a hand on my lower back when I nearly tripped over his rug. "Cool it, princess, before you hurt yourself."

I huffed in his face. "Seriously, let me pay."

"What kind of bartender would I be if I let a pretty girl like you pay?" He teased with a chuckle.

"Jake-"

"Lena," he interrupted. "Don't worry about it. Now come on, go get changed or we'll lose the good light."

I huffed again and carefully made my way toward his bathroom. "I'm gonna slip the cash in your pocket or something before I leave."

"I'll just give it back to you at work."

Quickly flipping him off, I closed the bathroom door behind me, settling into the quiet space with a shaky sigh. "You can do this," I muttered to myself, looking around his bathroom for a minute - a poor attempt to try and calm my nerves.

I would have expected Jake's bathroom to be like most city bachelors were. Dirty and cluttered and very obviously not well maintained. But, it was shockingly not what I'd expected. The floor was swept and looked freshly mopped. The sink was free of hair and toothpaste, the white contrasting against the red brick and dark tiled floors. Dirty clothes were in a hamper, and all of Jake's things looked organized. 

Once the initial surprise wore off, I dove right into the bag Jake had given me and forced myself to push past the nervous pit in my stomach. Jake had bought five separate pairs of lingerie, each a different color and design. Two of them I put back in the bag immediately. They were both very beautiful but had no room for error. If I made one sudden move, my tits and bits would be fully out on display, and while it wasn’t anything Jake hadn’t already basically seen before, I still decided to spare myself the heart attack.

After a minute of consideration, I narrowed it down to two pieces. One a modest dark red with frills of black lace and structured boning that would accentuate all the right places. The other a silky green with a low-cut neckline and a more floral design. My eyes felt more drawn to the red, the design reminding me of the dress I’d worn to the club, and in the very back of my mind, I heard Jake’s multiple previous comments about how much he enjoyed the color red on me. Still, I held it up to my body and looked at it in the mirror for a minute longer. 

Red it was.

I put the rest back in the bag and set it down on the tiny sink counter, changing into the soft material with ease. It was flattering and fit well. The bottoms were like shorts, but the kind that was far more like a pair of underwear that really showed off your ass, and the top was like a crop top but a lot more… durable. With a deep breath, I looked at myself in the mirror, toying with the fabric and my hair before just deciding to commit. “You can do this.”

When I opened the bathroom door, I half expected Jake to break his neck trying to peek at what I’d chosen, but he just kept his eyes trained on the task he was doing. He lifted the camera up to his eye for a quick glimpse before he lowered it and messed with the small machine for another minute. The floorboards creaked as I took a few tentative steps out into the main room, drawing his attention to me.

If looks could kill, then I would’ve died right there. He looked me up and down, mouth falling open slightly as he nearly dropped his camera. Jake looked at me like I was a piece of art… a sculpture of polished marble… something so perfect he couldn’t believe it was real.

With a burning hot face, I tucked my hair behind my ears. “I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with my hair, so I just… left it.”

My voice seemed to shake him out of the daze as he nodded, licking his lips. “You’re perfect - your hair… you…” He scratched his head. “You look perfect.”

“Okay,” I chuckled nervously. “Now what?”

“Now…” he lifted his camera up one last time with a tiny smile. “We take some pictures.”

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