When Pigs Fly
JAKE
THE INTIMACY OF THE NIGHT had thrown me for a loop.
As the sheet covered our bodies from head to toe, I didn’t want to think about the same heartbreaking pasts we shared. Instead, I thought about her, and touched her, and then touched her some more.
Caressing my hand down her back, I lightly nipped at her shoulder with my teeth. She giggled, and I swore the oddest thing happened to me—my heart skipped a beat.
What the hell was going on with me?
She laughed from inside our cocoon. “That tickles.”
I buried my face in her neck and sucked on the spot behind her ear I’d already discovered didn’t tickle her as much as drove her wild.
Her breathing picked up the minute I applied pressure there with my lips. She might not be ticklish in that spot, but it definitely turned her on.
“Does this tickle?” I murmured in her ear, knowing already it didn’t. Knowing the more I sucked, the wetter she would get. The hotter she would get. The more she’d beg.
“No,” she said, and her voice sounded breathy.
We’d spent most of the night exploring each other’s bodies. I checked on Finn every two hours, and he was doing fine. Irritated. Sore. And in need of sleep, I’d decided to give him three hours before waking him again.
When Juliette and I had finally fallen asleep, it was almost dawn. With the light streaming in my room now, I wasn’t sure what time it was, just that it wasn’t early morning anymore. I didn’t really care either.
I nipped at her earlobe, and she giggled. The sound was one I was beginning to really like.
The soft chime of my alarm told me exactly what time it was. I rolled over onto my back and pulled the sheet from our heads.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Going to check on Finn.” I sat up.
She burrowed out of the sheet and crawled up to lay her head on my thigh. “Is it time already?”
“Well, I do have ten minutes.” I reached for my phone to see if I had any messages, but then I looked down at her. Her grin was wide and her hair was a beautiful mess of tangles. As soon as I saw that smile, I unclenched my hand and left my phone where it was. “You know what, ten minutes can be a really long time.”
“It can be,” she grinned, “but we should probably use that time to shower.”
“Together,” I added.
Just then her stomach rumbled.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“A little.” Her eyes seemed to light up at the thought of food.
“Okay, tell me what you want.”
“You,” she whispered and nipped at the skin of my thigh.
With a growl, I lifted her chin to look at me. “I meant what food do you want, but I like your answer better. Let’s go ahead and shower, right now.”
She looked away and then covered her face with her hands.
“Why are you acting shy all of a sudden?”
She lifted her fingers from her eyes. “I’m not, but I have to tell you something before we get in the shower.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And what might that be?”
Her cheeks flushed. “The day I went to Rosewood to meet with your sister, I saw you masturbating in the shower,” she confessed.
I bit my lip. “I know.”
She bolted up. “You know? How do you know?” she asked horrified.
The grin on my face had to be priceless. “I saw you in the reflection of the mirror.”
“Oh God! Why didn’t you say anything, or close the door, or tell me to get lost, or . . . or . . . or stop.”
I took her face in my hands. “I didn’t want to. It was hot watching the way you reacted to seeing me touch myself.”
“Hot? That was not hot. Well, I mean, you were hot. You were really, really hot, but—”
The things she got flustered about were sexy as fuck.
Did she even know that?
“I’ll do it for you again sometime, if you want.” I offered her a cheeky grin.
Her eyes hooded and her lips parted. “Okay, I’m good with right now.”
Laughing, I got out of bed. “Well, I think we could probably do something together.”
“That works, too.”
When I turned to take her hand and lead the way, her earrings glistened in the sunlight the exact same way they had the first time I saw her at the bakery, but I realized right then that wasn’t the first time.
The enormity of how I knew her, where I knew I had seen her before, hit me hard, and I sat on the edge of the bed.
She wrapped her arms around me. “What is it, Jake?”
I twisted around. “Your earrings.”
It didn’t make sense, I knew, but I had to catch my breath.
Touching one of them, she said, “What about them? They were my mother’s favorite pair. I wear them all the time.”
I shook my head. “No, that’s not what I mean. You attended the circle of honor at Ground Zero in 2002.”
It wasn’t a question.
I knew she had.
She nodded. “Yes, just before the candlelight ceremony in Battery Park. President Bush and the First Lady attended,” she said, and then swallowed. “How do you know that?”
“I saw you there,” I said my voice going low. “You were talking to the Mayor. I saw your blond hair and the way your earrings sparkled in the sunlight and the sadness on your face. It was something I knew I’d never forget.”
Her stare remained blank as if she’d gone off to that far off place that was filled with nothing but darkness.
“I came up to you right before the air filled with the solemn sound of “Amazing Grace” and gave you a single white rose.”
“Oh my God, that was you? That was you!”
I nodded. “I saw you looking around at everyone holding a flower.”
She smiled a sad smile. “And you said, “here you don’t have one, and you should,” and you handed me one.”
At the same time, I said, “And I said, here, you don’t have one, and you should,” and then I handed you mine.”
Juliette crawled onto my lap and pressed her forehead to mine. “You were my hero that day.”
I shook my head. “The heroes were those we were there to mourn.”
She cupped my face in her hands. “Yes, they were, but to me, you were also one.”
I wrapped my arms around her, and held her tight. I didn’t know what I was feeling or how I felt, but I knew it was something I’d never experienced before.
I was no one’s hero.