Jasper’s gaze meets mine, but his face has an expression I can’t decipher.
“What?” I ask.
“I think I get the appeal.”
“You think you get the appeal? You think? My one night off, and I’m with a guy who only thinks he knows why I’m appealing.” I animatedly roll my eyes.
“I mean to your immaturity. You’re”—he waves his hand, gesturing down my body—“insanely attractive. But I think I like this side of you because I’ve only ever caught glimpses of it. When you’re not stressing over things at home, trying to be this dedicated family man that clearly doesn’t fit who you are … when you’re just you, you light up every goddamn room you walk into.”
I wish I could be this person at home, but I don’t know how to be. This—bantering and being with him is easy. It’s what I know. A domestic life where I have to take charge? It’s not only foreign, but I don’t like it. I don’t like being the one responsible for everyone and everything. I’m doing it because I have to. Stepping up is the right thing to do. But I’m worried I’m going to lose myself by doing so.
“That was supposed to be a compliment,” Jasper says.
“I know. I just … Sometimes I want to be this person with my siblings, you know? But I can’t find the right balance between being their parent and being their big brother. I feel like I fail them daily.”
Jasper unclicks his seat belt and leans closer to me. “Let me help you escape from all your stress for one night.” He smooths the frown line on my forehead by kissing it.
“Thank you.”
“Movie doesn’t start for forty minutes. Want to get out and get some food?”
I nod.
We order burgers and fries and eat them at the picnic area. The night air is freezing, but I welcome it. Poor Jasper looks like a Popsicle though.
“We should’ve eaten in the car,” I say. I wrap my arms around him while he finishes.
I know what he said earlier about displays of affection still being somewhat risky in public, but he doesn’t push me away, and I like that. I think it’s bullshit that I’ve been photographed with women over the years but never men because I haven’t been able to touch them.
I’m a touchy kind of person.
“Okay, I’ve had enough food,” he says, putting down his half-eaten burger.
“Had enough, or are you freezing your ass off?”
“The latter, but I’m saving room for popcorn.”
We order popcorn for when the movie starts and head back to the car, but instead of getting back in the front, Jasper opens the door to the back seat.
“Told you you’re planning to have your way with me. How are we supposed to see the movie back here?” I slide in. “The front seats are in the way.”
“West?”
“Mm?”
“The plan was never to watch the movie.”
Best. Date. Ever.
22
Jasper
When West mentioned quick thrills, I’d thought he was being dramatic, but since our date, I’ve seen him twice. We grabbed coffee at Bean There the day after our date, but he had to rush off to practice, and the second time was on the last day of school. We had fifteen minutes between my last class of the day and him needing to be at the arena. We used fourteen of those minutes for kissing and hurried handjobs against my desk and the final minute for cleanup and kissing goodbye.
I want more of him.
Too bad with school out for winter break, West is needed at home more than ever, and he hasn’t had a chance to get away. His sitter went to visit family, and Asher needs the time to catch up on his classes.
It sucks, but I knew what I signed up for.
Instead of seeing each other, we’ve had a lot of late-night phone calls.
I low-key resent the time I don’t get to see him, but I focus more on how amazing it will be when he’s free next. We both agreed that I wouldn’t visit until we’d had time to properly date and see if we want more. He wants stability for the kids, so I understand him not wanting to tell the family about us right now, but hopefully if things go well, I’ll be welcome at his place eventually.
Until then, I have Greg and Dave and their motley group of family-less friends who all show up for any and all celebrations.
Their house is decked out with Christmas decorations, and they’re never happier than when they’re hosting.
I’m pleasantly tipsy from all the eggnog when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
West: Shit. Shit, shit. Fuck.
My gut drops. West has been stressing about Christmas for the last few days, wanting it to be a fun day for his siblings after their depressing last one, and I’d assured him he had this.