Smoke And Mirrors

•Eight•

Jake pulls up to my building and gets off with me. I pull him inside, Jane was taking her laundry out of her bedroom, she wore a tank top and sweatpants.

"Hey Jane." I smile

She smiles a little, "Hey." She looks at Jake—white laundry basket in hand, "Hi Jake." Her smile widens.

"Hi-" he says before darting his eyes to me.

"Where were you last night?" Jane looks at me, "And why are you dressed like that?"

"Jake's place, they are his clothes." I start walking to my room.

"Wait Jake—you have a house?" Jane steps closer to him.

"Well, an apartment actually. It's nothing special really." He puts his hands in his pockets.

"I hope to see it...sometime." She leaves to go to the laundry room.

I furrow my brows, "did she..."

"Don't worry, I don't want any piece of that." He turns to my door and starts walking, "Clothes—"

"Right," I run ahead of him to open the door.
I push it open, "what do you want me to bring?"

"Anything? Nothing that is too much effort to put on—or take off." He opens my closet.

I smile, "You are very sexual, you know that?"

"It's in my nature." He pulls out the clothes I don't wear at all that have been moved to the back of my closet, but shoves it back in, "you have nothing."

"I have way too many things."

"I think, I should take you shopping. Show you new looks, make you have better clothes."

"I have nice clothes."

"Boring, fancy clothes. Let's make you look like a human—not a protagonist of a TV show."

I glare at him, "You know—I don't like your tone." I cross my arms.

"Let's go shopping."

I move next to him, nudging him to the side so I could see, "I would rather have sex with you than go shopping." I start picking out clothes.

He stands to the side, staring at me, "Wait like right now? I'm not ready but I can be in
T-minus sixty seconds."

"No, Jake" I giggle, "I'm just saying, I'd rather do that than go shopping. But I don't want to do either right now."

"Cool, alright." He sits on my bed and watches me throw clothes next to him, "Are you sure?"

I toss clothes next to him and give him an annoyed look.
He puts out his arms, "Come here."

"No."

"Get over here." He pretty much demands.

I try not to smile, "Why, all your going to do is make my oxytocin and estrogen levels rise."

"Ooo say that again," he reaches out, grasping my waist with his hands, yanking me over to him, "I like when you speak intelligently to me—it's the equivalent to dirty talk."

I giggle, "I'm not saying that again, once was perfectly fine."

His hands slide to the widest part of my hips—resting there, he looks up at me, his eyes level with my sternum.
The corners of my mouth softly lift—slowly putting my fingers into his hair, letting them travel to the tips of his long waves. Jake's head leans back slightly—eyes closing.

"God...I hate you," I whisper—blood rushing to my cheeks.

He flickers his eyes back open, looking up at me as I play with his hair. "Oh yeah?"