Chapter Seventeen
I walked out into the main room of the cabin, self conscious and blushing.
Jonah hovered over the oven heating up what smelled to be chicken and alfredo. I breathed in, the scent making my eyelids flutter.
Jonah looked up to see me standing there, my legs bare and my gaze focused on the floor.
He tapped a wooden spoon against the pan, sat it down, and came over to me.
“Hey.” He said softly, his lips pressed to my hair.
“Hey.” I said back.
He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, our bodies swaying from side to side.
He pulled back, looking into my face. He kissed my nose. “You look lovely.”
I blushed.
“I have food ready now. You’re Italian. And you talk about alfredo all the time,” he struggled for words.
“That sounds great.” I smiled and walked over to the small wooden table in the corner of the kitchen.
Jonah sat down across from me his gaze going from me to his plate several times before he decided to just stare down at his fork spinning in circles around pasta.
I stabbed at a piece of chicken, spearing it and then popping it into my mouth.
I chuckled softly, choking back a small explosion of giggles.
“What?” Jonah said, covering his mouth as he spoke.
“Those god damned chickens.” I laughed.
Jonah rolled his eyes. “So, did you find a mouse in the bathroom?” he asked randomly.
I eyed my plate for a moment. “What?” I laughed curiously.
“You screamed. Remember?”
“Oh.” I blushed.
Jonah sat there waiting for an answer.
“I called Laynie. She’s weird. Really weird. Which reminds me. You guys are awful!” I yelped
“She put me up to it. And when I thought about it I thought it would be the most comfortable. Laynie didn’t give me a choice. She said that if I didn’t pack the shirts she’d pack condoms instead.”
I choked on a piece of pasta, coughed.
I laughed, my head in my hands. I scooted my plate across the table and let the hysteria rumble through me.
Jonah looked over at me, my face red and tears pouring down my face. He quirked his head to the side, curious about why I was laughing so hard before it finally sunk in.
“She didn’t.” he said mutely.
I nodded, my laughter easing slightly before coming to a complete halt.
I pulled my plate back over to me, trying to hide my face with my hand as I tried to choke down another piece of chicken.
“Um. Well.” Jonah managed to say.
Jonah pushed his plate away and the atmosphere went from being joking to serious. He looked up from my plate, feeling the change in the air. Jonah pushed his plate away, which was now empty, and stood.
I sat still, monitoring his motions, the way his hands shook slightly.
He walked around the table, gently pulling back my chair and picking me up.
He kissed me, his lips gentle and soft. I threaded my fingers through his hair, my arms wrapped around his neck, my legs around his waist.
He carried me cautiously over to the couch and sat down, resting me gently in his lap. He probed my mouth softly, my eyelids growing heavy as warmth circled in my stomach.
I felt his hands come up to cradle my back as he shifted positions, his chest hovering over mine as he continued to cradle me.
His kisses were sincere and soft, gradually growing to explorative and passionate. I returned each kiss with a smaller one on the corner of his lips.
I blushed, pulling the shirt down to cover the exposed cherry print of my underwear and nuzzled his neck.
“You make me sleepy.” I yawned with a smile.
“Am I that bad?” he said softly, his lips grazing my cheek. He placed well aimed kisses on my throat, my jaw.
I rolled my eyes. “Shut your gob.” I laughed another yawn escaping my lips.
Yawns continued to rush through me, my head began to throb.
Jonah grew serious.
“I’m fine.” I yawned again, my head began to spin. My brows furrowed.
Jonah slid me off of his lap in one swift movement and went to the kitchen, rummaged through the shelves until he found a large pitcher.
He plopped the pitcher down into the sink and began to fill it. I sat there letting confusion run over me as I continued to stifle back yawns to the best of my ability.
He scowled in my direction as he pulled the ice tray out of the freezer and twisted it from side to side, freeing the tiny cubes.
Jonah grabbed a glass and walked back to me, filling the glass and then setting it down on the side table.
“Water cures yawns?” I asked.
“Water cures dehydration.” He scowled.
“Don’t make that face at me. I’m perfectly hydrated!”
I sipped at my water for a moment, then tilted it back letting the water gush into my mouth. I emptied the glass in a matter of moments and then looked around the room, acting like nothing had happened at all.
Jonah filled my glass again. “Go slow on this one. If you fill up too fast it’ll go straight to your bladder and you won’t take any of it in.”
“Okay Dr. Collins.” I saluted, taking a long pull from my cup.
“I’m serious, Tide. You yawn because you’re not getting enough blood to your brain because it isn’t circulating fast enough. Meaning, you aren’t eating or drinking enough.” He said, hoisting himself up from the couch and going back to the kitchen to heat up more pasta.
“You’re making me eat more too? Are you serious?” I whined.
“Yep.” He said mutely.
A few minutes later he came back to me, a plate chocked full of steaming pasta and chicken along with two forks.
“I guess it’s partially my fault. I haven’t fed you properly.”
I rolled my eyes. “You and Laynie talk about me like I’m a pet that needs to be fed regularly.” I groaned. “I’m a big kid. I forget to eat here and there, and I don’t drink as often as I should I guess, but I’ll be okay. You guys have got to stop worrying so much.”
Jonah eyed me speculatively. “Maybe we’re a bit more cautious with you. But can you blame us?”
I scowled. Jonah was referring to my past history.
“Look.” I said, slightly frustrated. “You see this?” I lifted my arm to his gaze, he looked away. “Look.” I demanded.
He looked down at my arms that shone white in the fluorescent lights.
“Not a mark on me.” I said matter-of-factly.
Jonah scoffed pointing at the scars.
I cringed as I saw them there on my forearm, wrapped gently around my arms, even more pale than the rest of my skin, subtle etchings of a past life.
“Shut up!” I sighed.
I lifted my shirt, exposing my stomach. “Look.” I said again.
Jonah blushed.
I huffed loudly, waiting for him to look. When he did, I slapped my hand down on my stomach, pinched my skin. “See that? Meat on my bones.”
“What is your point exactly?” he asked, a small smile on the corner of his lips from my previous remark.
“I’m fine.” I exaggerated the words. “I’m better now. Really I am. You guys can’t keep protecting me the way that you do. You stand over me and wait for me to get hurt, you watch me eat, and hate when I take too much time in the bathroom. But you guys don’t have to do that. I’m really okay. I know I’m not always going to be okay. People are going to hurt me. But you have to give me space to get back up again.” I whispered, my gaze falling down to my hands in my lap.
Jonah placed a gentle hand under my chin, lifting my gaze to him. “Promise?” he said simply.
I nodded.
He kissed me square on the mouth before signaling me to take another swig of my water and then turn to the plate of pasta while he rummaged to find a movie.
I coughed as I swallowed another bite of pasta. “My stomach is going to explode if I eat anymore.” I motioned down to the plate.
Jonah examined the plate carefully. I had eaten over half of the mound by myself while Jonah took small bites here and there.
“At least we have a good movie playing. You could be eating tons of food and watching a terrible movie that makes you want to throw everything up.”
He was right. Leave it to Jonah to bring along Casablanca on the most romantic day of my life.
We were just getting to the scene where Ilsa is explaining why she left Rick in Paris when Jonah pulled me in closer to his body and kissed my forehead.
Jonah took the plate from my hands and set it down on the side table, motioned me to take a few more drinks of water, and then pulled a blanket over us. I cuddled in closer to his body, taking his warmth for my own as the night air began to chill.
Jonah turned to me pressing his mouth to mine. My hands searched blindly for his shoulders, his chest. Each gentle stroke of his tongue threatened to shatter me.
My head had stopped spinning only moments before, but now it started again for a different reason. I pulled at clothes, hands, hair, trying to get closer. I willed his skin to take me inside, for all the little particles to separate just long enough for me to crawl in and be hidden there from the rest of the world.
My breath became labored as we exchanged breath, heat. My heart hammered in my chest, begging to be released from the iron chains that restricted and crushed each agonizing beat.
Jonah’s mouth worked its way down my throat, finding the hollow place there. Hands in hair, on shoulders, on backs… Jonah slowed, his kisses dimming from roaring open flames to a single candle light.
He laid his head down and after several moments of attempting to open my eyes, I gave up and fell into the sweet dark abyss.
