Page 3 of Jacob Michaels is Not Crazy

“I must be going out of my fucking mind right now.” I sighed and turned my head back to look straight ahead again.

“You’re not crazy, Rob.”

“I’m not exactly in a good headspace.”

“I promise that you’re not crazy.” He reiterated. “I know this is all a lot to take in all of the sudden…even for someone like you.”

“I think I’m in shock.”

“That would be understandable.”

“Andrew is a werewolf,” I said it as though we weren’t fully aware of the fact yet. “You hit him with your truck. Oma is a witch. And we just fucked like a couple of horny teenagers.”

“Fucked?” Lucas frowned.

“What is wrong with me?” I shook my head. “I mean…what is really wrong with me? I came back to Point Worth to…rest and eat and be with my grandmother. And…I managed to fuck that all up within the course of fewer than two weeks. I mean, that’s gotta be a record, right?”

“How did you fuck it all up, Rob?” Lucas turned, kicking his knee up onto the bench seat between us. “How is anything fucked up—and even if it was—how is that your fault?”

“I don’t have an answer for that.” I shrugged, my hands falling limply into my lap. “I just…I feel what I feel, okay?”

Lucas stared at me as I sat there, wallowing in self-pity.

“Did you really fuck me, Rob?” Lucas asked lowly. “Is that what you thought we were doing when we…did what we did? Because that wasn’t how I felt about it at all. It was the best sex of my life, sure, but it just felt right to me. It didn’t feel like fucking, Rob. It felt like…home.”

I turned my face to him again.

“Do you want to do it again?” I asked.

Lucas nodded.

So, we got back out of his truck, went back into Lucas’ house, and repeated the previous night’s activities. Except we didn’t repeat them on the living room floor. We used the actual bed.