Page 33 of Jacob Michaels Is Not Jacob Michaels

“Okay.” He shrugged. “But why?”

Another kiss.

“Maybe it will jog some memories that I can remember?”

“Even if it doesn’t, can we make out under the bleachers?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Of course.” I snorted. “But you have to let me look around first.”

“Can’t I get some head under the bleachers?”

“You’re pushing it, Lucas.”

He laughed loudly before giving me another kiss, this one a little more aggressive than the last. I tightened my arms around him as our lips pressed together, savoring our final few moments in bed together.

“Well,” he finally pulled away with a sigh, “if we’re going, let’s go. I want to get back in time to get head in bed.”

“You’re a horny bastard,” I shook my head. “And that rhymed.”

“What?” He winked. “You don’t want to?”

I just stared at him.

“Fine. Let’s go to the stadium, and we can go back to your place.”

“In case we get loud?” His eyebrows were wiggling again.

“Yes.”

Lucas pushed me away and bounced to the edge of the bed, quickly coming to stand beside it before buttoning his pants hurriedly. I watched as he found his shirt on the floor at the end of the bed and pulled it on. I’d never witnessed a man button a shirt so quickly. Once Lucas was pushing his feet back into his boots, he glanced up at me on the bed.

“Get moving, babe.” He urged me. “I want to get this over with so we can get back to having fun.”

“Going to the football stadium with me won’t be fun?”

“Going to my house with you will be more fun.”

“Fair enough.” I chuckled as I slid out of bed and did my pants up once again.

Lucas waited, semi-patiently, as I pulled on my shirt and shoved my feet into a pair of kicks, then raked my fingers through my hair. Luckily, my hair had been cut in a way that made it always look stylishly sloppy, so I didn’t have to try too hard to get it back into place. There was no set place for my hair. It did whatever it wanted to, and that was how it was supposed to look. I reached up to scratch my chin, feeling the beginnings of whiskers that would need to be shaved away soon. When I had shaved off my beard, I thought I was saving myself the trouble of trimming my beard regularly. Having to shave daily if I wasn’t going to have a beard was a task I had forgotten about after so long of not shaving.

Lucas grabbed my hand and pulled me in for another quick kiss, and then we exited the room together. I glanced over my shoulder to see if Ernst climbed out from underneath the bed. I’d hope he hadn’t just stayed under the bed and witnessed everything Lucas and I had done. Sexuality and sex were probably not as taboo with Kobolds, but I still didn’t want Ernst—or anybody really—witnessing what I did in my bedroom.

Down in the living room, once we had made our way down the stairs, I could hear Oma banging around in the kitchen. Literally. She was making much more noise than was necessary, which let me know that she was still agitated about the incident in the cellar. Instinctively, I wanted to go into the kitchen and hash things out with her. Whether we fought it out or hugged it out didn’t matter, just as long as we settled the tension. Taking the fight to Oma’s doorstep would mean delaying going to the football stadium, though. Lucas cringed as he looked at me and Oma banged things around.

“Oma!” I shouted. “We’re going out. I’ll be back later!”

“Do I look like I give a shit?” She snarled back.

Lucas cringed harder. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“She’s cussing at me. Things will be okay.” I winked at him.

Lucas produced a nervous smile and let me lead him to the door.

“Don’t worry.” I shrugged as I reached for the knob and opened the door. “Things always work out one way or another around here.”

Of course, when you least expect it, another assault comes. When I opened the door, that’s precisely what happened.