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wickedholland · 3 years

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IT STARTED WITH A KISS HOW DID WE END UP LIKE THIS.

AN: Before we start. I just want to quickly mention that this is my first story since 2019. It’s not perfect in any way - grammatically and stylistically - English is not my first language. I truly attempted my best to make it look good for a “reader's” eye so many times I honestly can’t look at this story anymore. I’m a perfectionist who spends hours crying fat tears over this while trying to edit it.

PLEASE LIKE & ENJOY < 3 send me a lil message what you think about my first child of many.

WARNING: I never completely watched “Defending Jacob” | age-gap between characters, slight 18+ content.you read at your own risk. Both Jacob and the reader are adults in this story. 6,5k words.

Happy early valentines day since I’m v sick at home < 3

He has a wife.

Surprisingly, this is the first thought of realization that your brain decided to process from all the things happening around you. The second your feet cross over the threshold of the most intimate looking living room that you ever had the chance to be inside. It feels like a fresh whiff of air or a train coming your way with all force - knocking out of you any sense of brain maturity you previously held.

The moment your eyes settle on him. He’s there. The head of the house. Just like you heard Jacob calling him playfully while you spend late evenings together, drinking instead of studying for upcoming exams. Always managing to comfort one another by telling outrageous family stories which happened over the weekend you’d spend apart with your own families.

Standing all the way back in the kitchen area, cornered by some individuals in important attire, engrossed in a vivid conversation that required a lot of hand gesticulations and insulting words. Unfazed statue of an attractive man whose beauty cannot be surpassed by anything you’d seen in this world. Propped against the edge of the kitchen counter behind him, nursing a bottle of what seems to be a beer in one of his hands, while he calmly observes the scene in front of him with a stoic expression.

You blink a couple of times, just making sure of the conviction you made that this man looks like he rather belongs in a movie scene or on the cover of the magazine not in depressing Newton, Massachusetts.

“Honey, come here for a moment. Jacob bought a guest.”

A lovely, nice wife.

You subconsciously add when the mature woman moved into your point of view, effectively making you lose your train of thought, you can still hear your best friend’s moans after his mom’s affectionate attention.

“I’m Laurie, sweetheart.” she quickly introduces herself before her hands develop you in a tight welcoming hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.

Laurie is a beautiful neat-looking woman, whose eyes spark with uncontrollable joy that Jacob already told you so much about, including the ways he could always make her forgive him for everything he managed to break as a child - or not. She’s giving you the idea of a perfect mother example, that kind of woman you’d like to become one day when you think about your own family, the one who always held her head high, no matter the obstacle she’s about to face on her way. The one giving warmth and light towards the family fire. That gives the warmest hugs of them all and cheeks so bright and sparkling as if she smiles like this all day.

“Mum’s a huger,” Jacob shrugged his shoulders at the look you gave him when his mother disappeared the second after promising to fetch something delicious for you after the long journey you both went through.

“And that’s your–” you quickly pointed your head into the exterior of the house, trying to discretely indicate the place Jacob’s father was occupying. Not refusing yourself to cast another glance at the visionary man whose identity was still somewhat unknown, or you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.

Please, don’t be his father…

“Head of the house,” Jacob jokes again, gently swaying on his feet visibly getting annoyed at something. He furrows his brows for a second before addressing you again “you know, lawyers never sleep, there’s always a cause worth fighting for.”

You nod your head in silent understanding, knowing how much Jacob went through when he was younger and how much his entire family paid for that.

“I’m going to be such a dick now, but I really have to pee,” Jacob complained under his breath before throwing a longing glance towards the stairs leading to the first floor of the house. You guessed that’s where the bathroom is. “mom will be back in a second and she’s going to show you the guest bedroom, just sit and ignore the legal gibberish coming from the kitchen.”

“But–” you instantly panicked. “please, don’t leave me here alone.”

“Relax, you’ll be fine here. He’s not going to eat you, he doesn’t even know someone else besides his friends is home that’s how into work he usually is.”

Sending you a reassuring look, your best friend quite literally rushed through the hall and up the stairs as if he was on fire.

It’s weird to finally be in the house you heard so much about from Jacob’s stories. Where you can see everything by your own eyes, the place your best friend grew up in and had his first memories from - home.

“Girlfriend?” It seems like you can’t breathe, as you hear a deep masculine voice at the side of your ear completely throwing you out of your thoughts,

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re my son’s girlfriend? It’s your time to smile now, gently tipping your head back you let bubbles of amusement fill you,

“No, we’re friends. I thought Jacob told you, Mr. Barber that-”

“Andy.” the tall male corrected you instantly,

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s okay to call me Andy. I don’t care,” the broad man shrugged his shoulders at you.

You feel like your head is in the cloud and your ears are stuffed with cotton wool.

He has a wife,

“Alright.” You try to clear your throat before speaking again. “I thought Jacob told you– his parents that he’s bringing a friend for a weekend.”

“Ah nice there, trying to avoid calling me by my name, I’ll give it to you.”

You didn’t even know you could flush crimson so easily, before you met Mr. Barber, or rather Andy no other men made you feel like this.

Czytaj dalej

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