Terrible Love

I woke up to my forehead pressed against Jon’s bare chest. Sunlight was pouring through my bedroom windows, keeping us in a comfortable temperature. Coming too, I let out a soft sigh and watched as the man I had fallen asleep next to twitched from the warm air. Within a second of my eyes fluttering open, the mass in front of me winded it’s arms around me and pulled me flush against it.

“Morning, blondie.” Jon greeted, his voice thick and raspy as he set his chin down on the top of my head and sucked in a deep breath, pulling me in a little more as he snuggled with me under the sheets and went to fall back asleep.

“I need to get up.” I huffed, my body aching from the tight embrace. I was too groggy to be put this close to him after everything that had happened last night and this morning. The family dinner was now less than twenty-four hours away, and I couldn’t imagine Patrick and I telling Jon what had happened after the Keith’s and the rest of the Sharp’s fell asleep.

Groaning, Jon shook his head and then rolled over, keeping me tight in his grasp so when he let his arms go, I was sitting on his stomach, my legs straddling his shirtless body. “Whoa, hey,” He sent me a sleepy smile as he picked his hand up and brushed his thumb over my chin as he tilted my head down so our eyes met. “You have a wicked comfy bed.” He offered, his hand dropping to my knee as we stood in this horribly awkward position, mostly because I was too in shock to move.

After a few minutes, my brain kicked into over drive and I quickly removed myself from on top of Jon and stood on my legs, my knees shaking under the weight of my body. “How about we make some breakfast for all of your drunk friends?” My voice shook as I offered Jon the chance to spend time together not lying in my sheets.

Thinking about the offer, he looked over at me, standing there adjusting the bun on the top of my head and smiled brightly up at me. “Only if you let me flip the flapjacks.”

“Only if you crack the eggs for me.” I joked and watched as the brunette quickly rolled out of my bed and adjusted the pajama pants on his hips that were just about to slip off. Catching a glance of his normally covered lower stomach; I felt my heart pop in my chest, as my whole body grew warm. There was something about that muscular ‘v’ some boys had that made me generally weak, but to see it on Jon, killed me.

Blinking away any further thoughts about Jon and his slouching pajama pants, I quietly opened my bedroom door and tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that the rest of the guys would be too comatose to wake up from the movements. From what it seemed last night, everyone except Sharp and Jon were completely over their limit. It was shocking to even see Duncan Keith a little woozy after the long night. He had never been much of a drinker, and now that he had that adorable little baby, it was even more of a surprise.

Once we both made it down stairs, the soft sound of glass rustling filled the air. Eyebrows lifting to the middle of my forehead, I peeked into the living room to see Sharp with a small brush and dustpan, sweeping all of the glass off of the red stained floor.

“Should I get you a maid outfit for your birthday?” I joked as the brunette stood up and turned toward us, a huge smile surfacing on his face as his eyes fell on Jon leaning against me, his arms connected around me neck as I supported his weight.

“I think Abby would enjoy that a little too much.” He shot back at me as he walked over to the garbage can and then ran his every over Jon’s face, his eyes shut as he rested his head on my shoulder. Lifting his eyebrow, Patrick pointed the broom at Jon, waved it in a circle to encompass the two of us, and then lifted his other eyebrow, wiggling them for a minute before he saw the fire raging in my eyes.

Flipping him off, he let out a howl of a laugh that stirred the body leaning against me. Pulling his arms from around my neck, he gave my shoulders a small squeeze and then walked over to the counter, rubbing his eyes as he leaned against the edge of the marble and placed his hands over his head. Glancing over at him, I felt every drop of blood in my body rush to my cheeks as my eyes soaked into Jon’s exposed stomach. The muscles in his arms were flexed from the way they were bent behind his head, the twist in his body made every muscle in his stomach become clearly defined.

Luckily, only Patrick Sharp noticed my dark red cheeks.

“You okay, Aspen?”

“Sharp, don’t you have someone else to fucking torture?” I snapped and watched as the blue-eyed man started laughing, his hands slapping over his cheeks as he pointed at me once and then leaned into the island, his laughter never fading away for the next few minutes.

Rolling my eyes, I slapped my hand against the mans shoulder and then turned toward the cabinets, my body trying to force the blood from my cheeks back into the normal flow through my body. Sucking in a deep breath, I was able to drown out Patrick’s laughter and then grab a few things that we needed in order to make breakfast. The first thing I pulled out and started to set up, was three cups of coffee.

As the sound of the Keurig heating up filled the room, I watched as Jon put his hands down and looked over at me, his big brown eyes zeroing in on the box of k-cups in my hand. Leaning against the counter next to me, he leaned his head on top of mine and let out a small yawn. “Why is Sharpy so loud?”

“Who the fuck knows,” I whispered and then glanced across the kitchen to see Patrick smiling brightly over at me, his wide eyes filled with a mischievous glint. A part of me wanted to press my knuckles into his face, but I let my over tired crankiness wear off as Jon placed his hand around my shoulders and pressed a kiss to my temple.

“Coffee has never smelled so good in my whole entire life.” The brunette hummed, his body creating a fire against mine that made me want to go take an ice bath. “We do have stuff for breakfast, right?”

I hummed, not really sure if I had enough pancake batter, coffee, and eggs to feed the group of men that were scattered across the upstairs. Nibbling on my bottom lip, I carefully stepped out from the side of Jon and walked over to the fridge, letting the soft sounds of Jon making a coffee fill my head and drown out Patrick’s small chuckles from the aftermath of his hysterics.

Pulling the fridge open, my eyes rested on a carton of eggs, a half full bottle of orange juice, and one stick of butter. No syrup, no fruit, no bacon, barely any orange juice, and probably not enough coffee to even fulfill our needs for the rest of the day.

Huffing, I went to slam the fridge shut when Patrick cleared his throat. “Hey, make me a list, I’ll head out and grab some things.”

“Oh, no, not at all.” I said quickly shutting the fridge and turning to him. “Pat, you don’t have to do that, I’ll change and run-“

“You’re putting these assholes up for a day, some of them for the passed few, and you’re making breakfast, the last I can do, on behalf of the team, is pick up some food we’re going to eat anyway.” He finished his little speech as he ran a hand through his hair and flashed me a huge smile. “Come on, Blondie, make me a list, give me your keys, and let’s get this cooking disaster going.”

I rolled my eyes as I walked over to him and pulled out the nearest drawer. Grabbing a pen and a notepad, I slapped it onto the counter and went to start scribbling things down when I felt Patrick lean into me and press his lips into my hair. Looking across the kitchen, I watched as Jon stood staring out of the small window over the sink, his back turned to us.

“Besides, it’ll give you more time to stare at Jon’s hot bod.”

As soon as Patrick was done speaking, I quickly wound my hand up and sent a stinging slap to his strong shoulder. Sound cracking through the quiet room, the brunette across from us turned around just in time to see my cheeks turn a deep red. “You fuck.” I huffed and quickly grabbed the pen and paper and walked over to the far side of the kitchen, leaning against the counter and quickly scribbling down a bunch of things we needed.

Once the list was done, Patrick looked like he had just walked from a modeling shoot, and I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes at him. I never understood how he could always look so perfect even after taking a cab home from a night of drinking, sleeping on my couch and in his clothes. He didn’t even have any hair products or a change of clothes and he still looked perfect.

“Am I good?” Patrick asked grabbing the list from me and holding his arms out to his sides. Doing a quick spin, I let out a short laugh and rolled my eyes at the man.

“Model perfect, as usual, Sharpy.” I sighed and watched as he flashed me a huge smile and then snatched my keys from the counter and headed to the front door.

Before he walked out, he said that this better be the best breakfast food ever to make him leave the house without showering. Letting out a small snicker, I listened as the front door shut and left the house to fall back into the peaceful silence.

Jon didn’t really talk much as we both hung around in the kitchen. He stayed, back turned to the room, staring out of the window for a few minutes after Patrick left. Then, he walked over to the island, sat down on the stool Sharp had been sitting in, and set his mug carefully down against the marble.

Fingers tracing along the white swirls in the stone, the brunette let out a long sigh and held his head up with his free hand, his elbow pressing into the counter. “Am I doing the right thing, Aspen?” His voice was soft, like if he spoke to loud the room would crumble down around him. “I feel… I feel like I’m making a mistake.”

“Why would you be?”

“I’m getting cold feet.” He replied, his eyes snapping from the marble to my eyes. “Last night I was talking to the guys about the tuxedos and the flowers, they were excited, and I was too. I thought I was, I really did, but now.” He picked his hand up and then lightly pressed it back against the smooth surface. “Now that I’m sitting here, I really... I really don’t know.”

“That’s normal.” I whispered, trying to conceal the fast beating heart in my chest and the shake that started from my leg and rushed through my body. Pressing my fingers into one another, I looked down at my knuckles and tried to push the memory of Laura and that boy from my mind.

This was not the time; this was not the time at all, Aspen.

You can’t do this without Patrick.

Silence swept over us. The brunette couldn’t pick his eyes up from the counter and I couldn’t find it in me to keep talking. I wanted to be his crutch, I wanted him to tell him the right thing to do, the right things to say, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to tell him to marry her, I didn’t want to tell him to leave her; I didn’t want to tell him anything.

I wanted him to figure out what he wanted.

And he did, well, sort of. He asked me; he asked me one question that could have overturned everything that he had lined up for the summer. The future of his summer, his wedding, the rest of his fucking life depended on me.

I felt sick almost instantly.

“Last night was the best sleep I had in months.”

“It’s the tempurpedic.” I joked, my lips trembling as I tried to wind myself back down from my hysterical thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I watched as the brunette looked up at me, his eyes shimmering in the light as he smiled.

He informed me that I was ridiculous, and then left his eyes barreling into mine. Keeping the air quiet, he stood up and walked over to me, a smile forming on his lips as he noticed a tint of red start to form on my cheeks from his shirtless body being so close to mine.

I prayed and begged for Patrick to walk back into the house, announcing he had forgotten his phone or was already back, but as Jon wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a hug, my prayers and mental please were silenced.

Fingers pressing into his smooth, warm, skin, I felt my body start to melt. Resting my cheek against his shoulder, my eyes fluttered shut, wishing I could stand there, my body pressed against his, for the rest of my life. If something killed me right now, I think I’d be okay.

If this was our path crossing for that one millisecond of time in our lives, when our hearts beat at the same pace, and our skin sent sparks through our bodies, then it was fine. I could live with this moment knowing that everything else in life worked out in both of our favors, until the end.

“Aspen,” Jon pressed his lips to my hair. I could feel his heart racing under his strong chest. It was throbbing so fast I could almost feel it against my face. “I love you so much, you know?”

My heart felt like it was enclosed in box, making my chest tighten with anxiety and stress. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I wish I wasn’t such an idiot when I was younger.” His breathing was rough at hit the bare skin on the side of my neck. “You’re so… you’re perfect, and whoever gets to spend the rest of their life with you is the luckiest man on the-“

“Jon, stop, please.” I whispered, my body pulsing with regret and agony.

“You are.” His large hands slipped onto either side of my face as he pulled his body away from me, letting the cold air cradle the exposed skin, sending shivers through my body. “I’m sorry for all of the shit I put you through for not realizing it sooner.”

“Stop, yeah?” I whispered, my eyes shifting from his quick moving chest, to his lips, and then to his bright eyes. Dropping my eyes back to his lips that were moving closer to me, all I could do was think about Laura, think about her kissing that man, holding his hand and talking to him about the next morning. Her intentions were obvious by the purr in her voice and the swing of her hips.

Did I want to be like her?

I placed my shaking hands on Jon’s chest and gave him a small push backwards. Once there was enough room for me to move, I quickly turned form him and walked into the living room, just in time for Patrick to walk in with three full bags of groceries and a shocked look on his face as he saw the horror smothering mine.

Before he could ask what happened, Jon walked into the room after me, just about to grab my wrist when he looked up and watched as Patrick’s eyes darted to him.

“I should leave?”

“Tell him.” I breathed, my heart in my throat as my body started to sweat form being so close to Jon, for feeling so content with his body pressed into mine. I felt guilty for loving his embrace and his company.

I felt guilty for wanting him how I wanted him.

How Laura had him.

How I always wanted him.

“Tell… Tell me… What?” His voice cracked as Patrick’s eyes snapped to mine and he set the three bags of groceries down on the coffee table. Limbs shaking, I shook my head and quickly grabbed the groceries. Turning on my heels, I locked eyes with Patrick and as soon as his blue eyes sunk deep enough in mine to see what happened to the lazy, happy, look in my eyes, he ran a hand over his face and let out the most painful sigh I had heard a creature make.

Stumbling with the groceries into the kitchen, I placed them down roughly on the island, narrowly missing Jon’s abandoned coffee mug and then felt a cold chill run through my spine as I heard Patrick ask Jon to walk outside with him.

Once the front door shut, I placed my hands over my eyes and leaned my body into the counter.

This is not how I wanted to the day to go.



A half hour passed.

With shaky hands and a cloudy mind, I managed to put all of the groceries away and then pull out pans and utensils that I needed to make all of this food. It was nearing two-thirty in the afternoon, and if the guys didn’t wake up soon, I was going to go check if they managed to survive the night.

Through the time, I couldn’t hear either of the men talking on the front porch. Every time I let my mind wander to them, my muscles would tighten, and my stomach would feel sick. A part of me couldn’t believe what was going on, who was talking to who and about what, but as I remembered the feeling of my fingertips sinking into his skin, and Laura purring to that man in the middle of the alcohol aisles in whole foods, my mind forced me to realize that I was in reality, not some sick twisted nightmare.

Grabbing a huge bowl from one of the lower cabinets, I poured the pancake batter and other ingredients into it. Adding some vanilla and blueberries, I started to stir it when the front door burst open, causing my nerves to pop.

Heart in my throat, I turned to the entrance of the kitchen and watched as Jon walked in, his eyes a deep, hard, cold, brown. When they locked onto mine, I thought his stare had managed to kill me.

“How the fuck do you not tell me this.” He croaked, his fingers pressing into his thighs as he stopped a foot away from me. “Even now, this morning, last fucking night, how do you not manage to tell me that… that she… What the fuck, Aspen!” He screamed, his hand slamming down against the counter next to me.

Shaking my head, I went to talk when the brunette in front of me turned around and ran his hands through his hair, his body trembling with anger. I wanted to speak, I wanted to grab his hands and try to calm him down, but just as I was about to reach out to him, he turned back to me, his hands limp at his sides.

“You knew and you still told me to marry her?” His eyes were full of tears.

“I… I couldn’t just tell you, Jon.” I breathed, my chest tightening as I watched Patrick walk over to the doorway and run a hand over his face, his phone with a newly shattered screen into his pocket. “How was I going to tell you this last night, Jon?”

“Easy, you open your fucking mouth.”

“It’s not that fucking easy.” I screamed, slamming the bowl down against the counter, letting pancake batter splatter onto my clothes. “You can’t just pull someone aside after they had been out all night celebrating and tell them that their fiancé was fucking around with another guy.” My body was pulsing with anger toward Jon and Laura. “You think it’s easy, you think all I had to do was open my mouth and tell you, but it’s not. I love you Jon. I love you so fucking much and it killed me to think about what this was going to do to you. We told you as soon as we could. It was fucking last night for Christ sake.” I ended in a whisper, my eyes filling to the brim with tears as I thought about Patrick and I sitting on my couch, eyes wide, bodies numb form the thought of telling our best friend about the little issue.

“Is that why-,” Jon turned to Sharp and watched as the blue-eyes man nodded and then pressed his lips into a thin line. “You guys… I… You should have… I… Give me your keys.” He breathed, the storm in his broken eyes rolling away as he looked at me.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if-“ I cut Patrick off.

“I’ll drive.” I locked my eyes onto Jon’s as his head turned to me, the color that was glowing on his skin draining. “Pat, can you handle breakfast?”

“Of course.” He whispered, walking over to us and pausing. Sucking in a small breath, he grabbed Jon’s shoulder and pulled him into a quick hug. “Don’t do anything fucking stupid.” He said in a fatherly tone and the walked over to the bowl of batter and started to stir it.

Swallowing hard, I looked up at Jon and watched as he let a shiver run through his body. Wishing he would call off the drive to wherever he wanted to go, I parted my lips to speak when he grabbed my hand and walked me into the living room. Telling me to wait, I nodded a little and dropped my eyes to my shoes.

Within five minutes, Jon was back in the living room, his torso covered in a Chicago Cubs tee shirt and a pair of worn out blue jeans. Handing me a pair of my moccasins, he gave me a moment to slip them on and then sighed. Grabbing my hand, he walked us to the front door, out onto the porch, and then down the front walkway.

Once we were seated in my car and the engine under the hood was humming, I looked over at Jon, and watched as a few tears started to fall from his eyes. Feeling tears of my own well up in my eyes, I reached over, my fingers trembling and grabbed Jon’s free hand. Rubbing my thumb over the top if it, I felt his hand flip over and fingers spread apart, leaving room for mine to sink through.

Fingers interlocked, he cleared his throat and pressed his forehead against the window, his eyes never leaving the cloudy sky hanging over us.

“Remember that creek I took you to after my grandpa died, when we laid in the snow and you told me all of those weird fact about trees to get me to stop crying? The one in the park near my house?” His voice was hollow as he whispered the memory to me.

“Yeah, of course.”

“I wanna go there.”