Chapter 7
Jonah
Familiar anxiety flutters in my chest as I go through my morning routine of brushing my teeth—with my own toothbrush, of course—and shaving, checking the time and traffic report at least three times during the process.
When Lars comes into the bathroom to join me at the sink, I smile, scooting aside to make room for him, unable to resist playfully pinching his ass when he bends over to wash his face.
“Hey,” he complains, swatting me away with a laugh.
“It’s not my fault your ass is so perky and pinchable,” I defend, reaching under the running water and flicking some at him, earning another yelp.
“I take it you slept well last night if you’re up for being such a pain in the ass this morning,” Lars says dryly, but the twinkle in his eye tells me he’s happy to see I’m less quiet this morning than I was last night. The mention of my mood—and the reason for it—sobers me almost instantly, and I reach for a towel to dry my hand before checking the time again.
“I’d better hurry up and get dressed.”
“You have time for breakfast, don’t you?” He frowns with concern.
“There’s a little bit of a traffic backup, so it’ll be better if I leave early and get something out of the vending machine when I get there.”
Lars’ frown deepens. “You’re going to survive the whole day on a Pop-Tart?”
“I’ll be fine. I promise to eat a healthy dinner.”
“It’s not just about healthy, JJ,” he argues. “You’re a doctor, even if you are only qualified to treat one species,” he winks. “You know very well that the calories and nutrients in a Pop-Tart aren’t going to fuel you all day.”
I heave a put-upon sigh, secretly loving how insistent Lars always is about taking care of me.
“How about if I take some toast and fruit with me to eat in the car?” I negotiate.
“That’s a little better, but I want you to try to eat something for lunch too.”
“I’ll try,” I promise, kissing Lars’ temple and giving his ass one more quick pinch before hurrying to the bedroom to get dressed.
I grumble with irritation as I dig through my top drawer, trying to find a pair of matching scrubs, images of endless traffic jams dancing through my mind. By the time I find what I want, get dressed, and assemble the to-go breakfast I promised, it’s ten minutes later than I wanted, and my anxiety about being late is ramping up.
“Don’t forget, we’re hosting game night tonight, so pick up some drinks on your way home,” Lars calls as I’m putting on my shoes.
“Will do. I love you,” I shout back before rushing out the door.
Luckily, I didn’t have time this morning to obsess about any of the puppy stuff, but once I’m in the car, there’s little else to occupy my mind. But, instead of dealing with it, I opt to turn up Public Radio ridiculously loud and put my mental energy toward hearing about a crisis in the Middle East rather than thinking about my own shit.
I nibble at my breakfast as I drive, and it turns out the traffic doesn’t amount to much of anything, so I get to the hospital forty-five minutes early. I grumble a little at my stupid anxiety for robbing me of sitting down to breakfast with Lars in favor of rushing out the door. Then, I pull out my phone to browse through Instagram while I finish eating my fruit and toast in my car.
When I’m finished eating, it’s still early, but I’d rather go in and get the day started then sit in my car and deal with my own thoughts for another half an hour. I get out with a sigh, shaking off any and all interloping thoughts and head inside to do what I do best.
Lars
I whistle as I tidy the house and get snacks together for game night. The monthly game night we do with our friends is always one of my favorite nights, but doubly so tonight. There’s been a strange tension about Jonah this week, and I’m hoping relaxing with Addie and Seb, having some drinks, and playing stupid games will help get him out of whatever funk he’s in.
The sound of the front door opening brings a smile to my face. Even when I was young, there was nothing I wanted more than a partner I could share a home and a life with. It was Jonah I wanted, even before I realized it. Sometimes I think back and lament the years we spent not seeing each other, but I dated enough users and assholes in that time to fully appreciate what we have now.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he greets me with a kiss on the cheek, setting two bottles of wine on the counter.
“That going to be enough for this group?”
“I have two more in my car, but I figured I’ll leave them there for now unless we really need them. We don’t need those two getting hammered and deciding to make a music video to put on YouTube again.”
“Good point,” I agree. “The slow motion twerking to “Rocket Man” still haunts my nightmares.” I shudder theatrically at the image, and Jonah chuckles in agreement.
I finish the fruit and cheese tray I was assembling and turn around to give my man a proper greeting, looping my arms around his neck and tugging him down to meet my lips.
“I. Missed. You. Today,” I tell him between kisses, loving the feeling of his lips smiling against mine. Stooping down, he grabs me under the ass and hoists me up. “Watch out for the snacks,” I say as he moves to set me on the counter.
Once he manages to get me situated without knocking anything over, we get back to more important things. Jonah’s tongue sweeps into my mouth, his hands snaking under my shirt and ghosting along my skin. I tighten my grip around his neck and kiss him deeper, wanting nothing more than to somehow fuse together so we never have to stop kissing. Sure, eventually we’d die of starvation, but it’d be totally worth it.
“Should we tell them we’re here?” Addie stage whispers.
“Why would we do a stupid thing like that? Things are just about to get interesting,” Seb argues, and I laugh into Jonah’s mouth.
“You two know the hide-a-key isn’t there so you can bust in and cock block us, right?” I point out when I manage to pull back from the kiss.
I look over Jonah’s shoulder to find the two of them standing in the doorway to the kitchen with fascinated expressions like we’re their favorite TV show.
“It’s game night; were we supposed to stand on the porch until you got each other off next to our cheese tray?” Addie asks with an arched eyebrow.
“Preferably, yes,” Jonah responds, throwing a smirk over his shoulder at her.
“Are you guys going to get naked, or can I open that bottle of wine?” Seb asks, not waiting for a response before grabbing the bottle and then shoving my knee aside so he can open the drawer where we keep the corkscrew.
Giving Jonah one last kiss, I shove at his chest to get him to back up and then slide off the counter.
“You didn’t get a chance to change out of your work clothes, JJ,” I point out. “Why don’t you go take a quick shower and get changed while I put the bruschetta into the oven and these two chuckleheads kill a bottle of wine.”
Addie and Seb don’t even blink at me giving Jonah instructions or the way he hurries to carry them out. They’ve been around us long enough to know it’s how we operate. If either of them have any negative feelings about it, neither of us have heard a word about it, and that suits me just fine.
The three of us make small talk while I set the oven timer, accept a glass of wine from Seb, and then head into the living room with the cheese tray.
“What ever happened to that one guy you were dating a few months ago?” Addie asks Seb. “The really hot one with all the tattoos?”
“Erik? I had to break up with him. He literally refused to sing along whenever I put on “Bohemian Rhapsody” in the car. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life.”
“Did you ever think that the reason you’re single is that your standards are too high?” I ask, taking a sip of wine.
“So I should just settle?” Seb challenges. “Did you settle with Jonah?”
“Hell no.”
“Exactly. I’ll either have the perfect man for me, or I’ll warm my bed with perfect for right now men, but I won’t settle.”
“Fair enough.”
When Jonah returns from his shower, we all argue over what to play before deciding on Killer Bunnies, refreshing our wine, and settling in for a night of fun with our best friends.
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” Addie says to Jonah somewhere around her fourth glass of wine.
“Feeling better?” I ask, looking at him with concern and noticing a blush on his cheeks and a distinct avoidance of eye contact.
“I told you, I wasn’t sleeping well. I’m fine,” he explains. “Whose turn is it?”
“Yours,” I tell him, still studying him. I don’t think he was lying about the not sleeping part. I’d noticed how tired he was early in the week, but the twitchy way he’s acting and the quick change of subject are definite tells that he’s not being honest about something.
It sits heavy on my mind the rest of the night. Maybe it’s something he’s not telling Addie, but surely he’d tell me if I ask right?
With all four bottles of wine eventually finished off, Seb and Addie end up staying the night sharing the guest bed. Ten rounds of rock, paper, scissors over who would sleep on the couch ended in a tie, and I told them to knock it off and go to bed, to which Seb whispered something to Addie that included the word Daddy and a pointed look in my direction.
Jonah stumbles a little on the way to our bedroom, letting me know he had too much to drink as well. When we reach the bedroom, he struggles to get his pants undone, so I bat his hands away and do it for him, carefully unzipping them and then lowering them, along with his underwear.
“Step out,” I instruct, kneeling at his feet to get his pants off without letting him trip over himself, his half hard cock swaying near my face.
“Mmm,” he hums, running his hands through my hair, his hazy, drunk eyes fixed on me.
“Hey, JJ?”
“Yeah?”
“Why haven’t you been sleeping well this week?”
As soon as the words are out, his warm, happy expression shutters, and he frowns at me. I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes, see him trying to come up with an answer. My stomach lurches with the realization that he’s planning on lying to me, again. Is this related to the porn thing earlier in the week or has he decided, after all these years, to make a habit out of lying to me?
“Come on, JJ, step out of your pants,” I repeat soberly when I realize he’s not going to answer. This time he does as I say with my help. By the time I stand up, he’s tugging his shirt off and tossing it in the pile of dirty clothes, and I follow suit, the two of us climbing into bed silently.
For the first time in our lives, there’s something Jonah isn’t telling me. The thought makes me feel sick to my stomach as I lay beside him in the dark, wanting desperately to pull him close and pretend like everything is fine, but unable to make myself do it.