Invisible String

Chapter 37 - I Think He Knows

Life was strange over the last six months. It was already May, and Jaiden and I had been officially together now for a month. Things were going alright, but it could still feel strange for me even after all the time we'd spent together.

For starts, he was younger than me by a couple of years, and he'd obviously had quite the attitude in the public eye, but since we'd been hanging out, he was just trying hard to stay out of the media.

Pictures of us out on our dates surfaced within a few days of us being together. I'd had a quick thought about wanting Alex to see them, but was immediately mad at myself for being so bitter. If I loved him, I should be happy that he's happy. Plus, I was actually happy, too. So why did it matter?

Jaiden wasn't something I thought I'd want, but he was good to me. He brought me flowers on our dates or little knick-knacks that he knew I'd like. I had a collection of items growing around my house. And I actually liked it because they weren't anything extravagant or over-the-top. They were sweet little gestures like candy that I hadn't had in a long time that I mentioned. Or the fact that I love penguins, so he got me a beautiful little penguin figure. It was small things like that, but more than anything, it was the fact that he listened to me. He liked what I liked, and he wanted to give me what I liked. And I did the same for him. If I saw something online that made me think of him, I'd buy it. I'd learned about him in our time together already, such as the fact that his favorite color was purple, he liked cheetahs, and his favorite sports teams were the Miami Dolphins, the LA Lakers, and New York Yankees. So I'd often come across things like that while online. I even got him two tickets to one of the Yankees games later that month. I had yet to give them to him, though. I was waiting for the right moment.

I think this whole thing with him initially started out of anger with Alex, and even before that, I wanted to understand his interest in me. But once I got to know him. The real him. The person that wasn't shown on TV and in magazines. The side that was good, kind, and honest. I started to have more and more feelings for him. He always gave me butterflies, and I enjoyed being around him. He became my best friend. I could talk to him about anything. I told him all about Alex and me, as well as about Sandra and my grandpa. He apologized for the way he acted. He told me about his own issues. His family. His home. And he held me—all the time. Everywhere we went, he always touched me in some way. His arm either draped around my shoulders, wrapped around my waist, or his hand clasped tightly around my own. And I felt safe with him.

We were lying in my bed, naked, my legs wrapped around his. I was on my side, my head on his chest, and the covers laid over us. My fingers were tracing his tattoos, and I felt an overwhelming Deja-vu as I looked up at him.

"I've done this before."

"Cuddled after sex? Yeah, me too," he laughed.

"No." I shook my head, turning my gaze back down to his muscular chest. I ran my finger over a tattoo of a Celtic cross in the middle of his chest, outlining it. "This."

"Touched tattoos?" I looked up at him and watched as the realization overcame him. He didn't get mad. He just smiled and leaned forward and kissed me. "It's okay, Hannah. We all have a past." He kissed me again softly. "At least you aren't so hated for yours." He pulled back and smirked.

I shrugged and laid my head back down on his chest, my finger tracing his muscles, down his abs, to his bunny trail. I ran my fingers down it and groped what lay at the end.

He smiled and said, "Haven't you had enough?" He laughed.

I climbed on top of him and kissed him passionately. "Not in the slightest."

"Hold on, Hannah," he said, breathing heavily against my lips. He pushed me back a little.

"What's wrong?" I asked, genuinely confused.