Just Say Those Three Words

When I woke up, I noticed that the temperature had gone up in my room. At least, I thought that until I noticed the human sized space heater sleeping next to me. Jake was, for some reason, holding me to his chest and snoring slightly.

"Jacob?" I asked, still not entirely sure that I wasn’t dreaming.

He opened his eyes, then moved so he could rub the sleep out of them. "Did I wake you up?" he asked, concerned.

I shook my head. "How'd you get in here? The door was locked."

"You were sleep-talking. You said my name a few times, and I wasn't sure if you were having a nightmare or not."

I smiled. "I don't remember. But how did you get up here?"

"Window."

I blinked once, then looked at the window. It was at least six feet off the ground, and he would have had to open it all the way to fit. "Next time ask me to keep it open."

He smiled and nodded. "I will."

"Where were you, anyway? If you were close enough to hear me mumbling in my sleep."

"Just outside, I didn't feel like going home."

I nodded then rested my head on the pillow again. "When can I go see Alice?" I asked, a babyish tone coming over my voice.

"Whenever. It's almost noon."

"My dad didn't come in?" I asked, getting up and grabbing some jeans and a tee shirt. "He usually gets me up at the crack of dawn."

"He came in and checked on you, then left for my house."

"He wasn't mad you were here?"

He laughed and shook his head. "He's been through this with your mom. He understands better than anyone."

I sighed. "It's weird."

He shrugged. "Paul says that it gets a lot more normal after a few days."

"Normal?"

"You get used to it. You're still gonna be the only thing I think about, but it'll be what always happens."

"I'll go change, then can we go?"

He nodded and got off the bed, surprising me with his half naked body. I hadn't noticed he was only wearing his boxers before just now. I tried to hide my blush by turning to look in my mirror, but not soon enough. He laughed heartily as he grabbed his jeans, then walked out of the room, giving me privacy to change.

After a second, the shock wore off and I shouted, "Shut up!"

Another round of laughing occurred, continuing until I got my jeans on, and only when I pulled on my shirt did the laughter fade away.

I walked out into the hallway with a scowl on my face. Jacob was sitting on the floor (with clothes on) and was still smiling.

"Anyone ever tell you how cute you are?" he asked.

"I'm sure you will pretty soon."

He nodded, then stood up gracefully and looked at me. "Ready to go visit the bloodsuckers?"

I nodded vigorously and skipped over to the closet to get a coat. "Please don't be mean," I said, looking back at him.

He smiled and rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure."

"Jacob."

"Okay."

"Promise?" I asked, holding out my pinky for him. "You can't break a pinky promise."

"Dee," he said, whining slightly. "I can't promise anything."

"Try."

Jacob made a face, but smiled. "You ask a lot. You'll owe me."

"Deal," I said, looking around the room, checking to see if I needed to get anything. Estelle was staring at me from the table, purring audibly. I walked over and scratched her ear, then picked her up and walked her to the couch.

"You're good with animals," he observed.

"Not really. I just like them."

"Doesn't that mean the same thing?" Jake asked, letting a laugh sneak out.

"I can like singing but not be good at it."

He smiled again. "I'm sure you're a good singer."

I laughed and shook my head. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Jacob put on a pouty face and picked up Estelle and held her in front of his face. "Sing, Dee! Sing," he cooed, using a high pitched sing song voice to imitate a cat's voice.

I laughed and took the confused cat away from him. "I'll pass."

He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. As I stared at him for a second, he shoved out his lower lip in a pout.

"Jake, come on. Singing isn't that important." As he stood motionless, I got closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He almost reacted, but then shuttered to a stop and kept his arms across his chest. "Jacob… fine." I cleared my throat dramatically, then opened my mouth and sang, "Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low. Got the—"

"Don't ever do that again, Delilah Landrum."

I smiled and let go of his waist. "I told you, I can't sing."

"I was criticizing the song choice, not the voice."

"You're jealous of my taste in music."

He scoffed. "Ready to go?" he asked, skillfully changing the subject.

I laughed and grabbed his hand, walking him out the door and into the cool air.