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And what the fuck do I do now?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Casey
Dinner is loud, full of laughter and smiles and good food. Nolan made my favorite meal. I don’t know if Jake told him that or if it’s a coincidence, but I eat more than I’ve eaten in a very long time, inhaling every bite. I catch Jake giving me a smile that feels approving and fond across the table. It makes my whole body buzz.
After the food is gone, the operatives clear the table and leave us survivors to talk. I don’t miss the lingering look Travis settles on Carter before walking away, full of promises for later. Just as I start to focus back on the others, I catch Jake’s gaze. It’s just as full of promises, each one directed at me. I flush hot, sinking into my chair as my stomach swirls. The buzzing from before is back in full force.
Nolan refills our drinks as everyone starts catching up.
Nolan, who used to want to work in tech, has now decided he wants to be a chef. Maybe have a restaurant someday, or maybe just stay at the safehouse and cook for other operatives and survivors that come down the road. Bryce confides that he wants to write a book about what he’s been through, mumbling that it’ll never be published because the operation is classified. We all tell him we’d support him if he managed to get the clearance. That he could tell our stories too, as long as he changed our names. Carter talks about the bar and his class and the friends he’s making. Even Matt shows us a few words in sign language, Nolan translating since he apparently knows the language from growing up with a deaf best friend.
I can tell that Carter keeps watching me, probably worried about how quiet I’m being. I end up excusing myself before he can question me, giving everyone a tight smile as I mumble that I need to get some sleep. Carter’s worry grows in his expression, but he doesn’t stop me.
My legs are wobbly as I make my way to Jake's room. It feels like something has shifted with Jake and I. Like we're something more than we used to be. He said I'm his little one. That I could be his, if I wanted that. That he would take damn good care of me. And I'd said yes.
But what does that mean, being his? His… what?
I should have asked. Now it feels like it's been too long. It'd be awkward to bring it up now. Which means I'm about to enter his room as his something, without knowing what that something is. I'll just have to let him take the lead and see where we end up - platonic, romantic, or somewhere in between. I don't necessarily mind that idea. With him leading, I don't have to think so fucking much. I can just be. At the same time, I hope he gives me my answer sooner rather than later because I feel like I might explode if I don't find out soon.
After counting to make sure I'm knocking on the right one, I rap my knuckles against his door. Jake opens it seconds later, a bright smile on his face. "You came."
My stomach flips. "Of course."
When he steps aside, I shuffle past him. My heart thunders inside my chest so hard I have to reach up and rub it to ease the ache. I freeze when I see his bed. David is in the middle, propped up against the pillows. My eyes burn. "How…?"
"You mentioned your stuff was in the trunk. I figured you didn't bring it in with you because Carter would ask questions, but I didn't want you to have to worry about getting it later, so I went and got your bag for you. It's on the floor - I didn't look through it, I promise. David was right on top and the zipper was loose at the end. I thought maybe you'd like to see him when you got up here, so I brought him to bed."
Jake rambling nervously might just be the most disconcerting, yet adorable thing I've ever experienced. " I was actually anxious about sneaking off to get my stuff, so thank you.”
He smiles, looking relieved. "Do you want a bath? To sleep? I can put a movie on and we can just hangout? Whatever you want."
I want desperately to ask him to decide for me but force myself to act like a grown ass man and decide for myself. I don't want him to think I'm still fucked up and unable to take care of myself, even if that's kind of the reason I'm living here again. "A movie would be nice."
"A movie it is." He nods toward the bed. "Feel free to wear whatever you want and get comfortable. I'll grab the remote."
I strip down to my underwear before quickly crawling under the covers, suddenly much more embarrassed than usual. What if he thinks I misunderstood him calling me his? What if he tries to set me straight? What if he did mean it sexually or romantically and makes a move? Am I ready for that?
"Another animated one?" he asks, pulling me from the anxious thought-tornado inside my mind.
It takes me a moment to realize he's talking about the movie. "Oh. Um. Sure."
"We don’t have to. We can watch whatever you want. I just thought maybe you enjoyed Cars?"
"I did," I admit, hating how stupid that probably makes me sound. I try to defend myself a little by explaining, "It was relaxing."
Jake nods like he understands. Maybe he does? "Relaxing is good. Let's watch something else that's relaxing, yeah?"
"Yeah."
He scrolls for a minute before settling on The Bad Guys and tilting his head at the TV. "This look okay?"
"Yeah. I've never seen it, but-" I've wanted to. I thankfully stop myself from finishing. How stupid is that? What adult sees commercials for a kid's movie and wants to watch it?
"But?"
"Let's watch it," I mumble, my cheeks burning. I grab David and squeeze him to my chest as Jake starts the movie and turns off the lamp by the bed.
