Good heavens, what am I saying? However, Jake does not need to know it’s the only kiss I’ve had in seven years. He doesn’t even need to know it might be the best kiss I’ve ever had. I’ve never had someone just grab me and kiss the stuffing out of me. He kissed me like I was his first kiss and last breath all in one. And he most definitely does not need to know I went home and gave my pink pleasure toy extra time from only a kiss.
“Well, I wouldn’t say it was awful,” Jake defends, stepping closer to me. We’re only inches apart, and the screwdriver in his hand stops tapping.
“I didn’t say it was awful. I said it wasn’t particularly good. I’m certain I’ve had better.”
“Oh, you have, have you?” My gaze falls to his lips, and he drops the screwdriver to the ground. His breath mixes with mine. He smells of dark roast, cinnamon, and construction sites, and my mouth waters for another not-so-great kiss from him. His hands lift, and he leans forward.
“Rita, everything okay?” Sullivan’s voice breaks my trance. As I turn to our construction manager, Jake takes an exaggerated step backward. He bends at the waist for the screwdriver he dropped, and I meet Sully’s questioning glare.
“I’m good. Everything’s good. Not awful. Not great. Just good.” I huff out a nervous laugh. What am I saying? “I can’t stay again today. Office work.” It’s a lie. I’ve been purposely avoiding the site, and I hate that it has to do with Jake because Alfred was right. These projects are my passion.
“Okay. Well, see you later then.” A question lingers in Sully’s statement, along with his large mass suddenly stationary as Jake remains close to me.
“Yeah, I’ll be back later to check on the day’s progress.”
Sullivan nods but doesn’t move. Taking my first step in the ruts of the mud, my feet fumble, and I automatically reach out to balance myself.
“Nice heels,” Jake mutters, catching my forearm to steady me. As that smirky smirk of his slowly curls his lips, I glare at him. “They go well with your outfit.”
I’d like to show him where these heels can go, but instead, I tug my arm free of his support and stalk off. Only, it’s difficult to make a grand exit when your ankles wobble, and a heel collapses.
Damn these shoes and Jake Drummond.
Later that night is an AA meeting. I’m not chairing this one, and if Jake appears, he’ll have to beg someone else to sign off on his card. Good luck with that, handsome. Quickly, I rid my thoughts of Jake. I’m dressed in comfortable clothes of jeans and my hiking boots, telling myself I need a long hike this weekend to right myself. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, bringing myself into the mindset of the meeting.
The meeting begins with a reading of the AA Preamble, a prayer of the chair’s choice, and then the serenity prayer. I blindly follow along, keeping my eyes closed, until the chair mentions new members and introductions.
As I slowly open my lids, I see Jake directly across the circle from me. Our group is small in this community, so we’re often led by what the group needs. A chairperson could offer AA literature or discuss the 12-Step Traditions. If a new member joins and wishes to speak, we allow them to take the floor, guiding where we will go for the evening by their needs. Other than Jake’s introduction a few weeks ago, he remains quiet again tonight.
“Is there anything anyone wants to share this evening?”
I swallow as it’s always difficult to know where to start, but I have something to say, and I can’t shirk the sensation even if Jake watches me.
“I had something happen this week,” I begin. “I haven’t thought of Ian in a while.” I swallow around his name and shift in my seat, lowering my focus to the floor because the intensity of Jake’s eyes hurts my already aching heart.
“I don’t know if it was a panic attack or what actually happened. One minute I was fine, and the next, my thoughts were all muddled.” I lift a hand for my head, waving it around the side. “My heart raced. My chest constricted. I thought of Ian,” I say again. “And I wanted a drink.”
Some people nod around me. A few hum in sympathy with me.
“But then again, I didn’t want that drink. I knew I shouldn’t have