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Light My Fire 13. Wyatt 30%
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13. Wyatt

CHAPTER 13

Wyatt

I’ve never been jealous of Jackson before.

Not because he’s good looking. Not because he turned a fun side project into a multi-million dollar paycheck. Not because he has endless free time right now. None of that has ever bothered me because Jackson is my best friend and he’s a great guy.

He takes care of his family, is generous with his friends, and even if he doesn’t consider himself that serious, he always does the right thing.

But him flirting with Brooke? Her flirting back?

Oh, yeah.

I’m jealous.

I don’t have any right to be.

Brooke and I didn’t discuss what we are to each other, beyond me being her first.

We were in the moment.

There was no talk about the future.

So, I’m not upset with either Brooke or Jackson.

But yeah, I’m a little jealous that they have a spark between them.

It’s obvious as Brooke tries to chase Jackson down with a fistful of snow, both of them laughing in pure delight as the drifting and melting snow makes it nearly impossible to run.

We came outside to get some fresh air and to check on the state of the driveway for our departure Sunday. It became obvious that the tree canopy isn’t allowing for a fast melt in spite of the rising temperature and sunshine, which gave Brooke some concern. We probably won’t be leaving until Monday. Jackson picked up on her anxiety and decided to perk her up with a snowball to the butt.

Which she loved, even if she pretended to be outraged.

His aim was perfection, nailing her right on the ass that just twelve hours ago I was gripping in my palm as I stroked in and out of her tight, pure cunt.

It feels petty to interject myself into their fun, so I’m hanging back, shoveling the front steps because I have too much energy to stand idly by.

The burn in my biceps is a welcome feeling. It gives me something to focus on, and I don’t like to skip arm day anyway, so this heavy wet snow is the perfect solution.

Especially now that even our resident grump, Luke, has decided to join the snowball fight. He nails Jackson on the shoulder and then it’s on. They’re all bending down to pack snow.

“Jackson, help!” Brooke calls out when Luke lobs a snowball her way, too.

It misses, which was clearly on purpose. Luke has a pitcher’s arm normally. He’s just teasing her.

“Every man for himself, sweetheart,” Jackson says.

“I’m not a man,” she says with a giggle.

“Oh, trust me, I’ve noticed.”

“We’ve all noticed,” Luke says.

Brooke blushes a little as she glances over at Luke and smiles flirtatiously. “It’s the small hands that give it away,” she tells him, holding up her palms. “I can’t make big snowballs.”

Luke laughs. “Sure, that’s it. Not a single other thing on your body or your beautiful face.”

That surprises me. It doesn’t sound super sexual given his casual tone, but it’s still a shift in his attitude. He seems way more relaxed today. Luke must be feeling much more comfortable around Brooke now that her virgin status is history. I can’t say I love that either, but clearly Brooke is enjoying herself.

She poses with a snowball for him. “Why, thank you.”

Jackson has accumulated three snowballs during Brooke’s exchange with Luke. He tosses one up in the air and catches it. “I have very big hands,” he says. “You know what they say about that, sweetheart?”

Brooke’s eyes widen.

I stop shoveling, afraid the metal scraping on the concrete steps will drown out her response. Is she thinking about Jackson’s dick size?

“It means you have big balls,” Luke says dryly.

“Snow balls or actual balls?” Brooke asks, head swiveling between the two of them.

That makes Luke laugh out loud. Jackson glares at him and throws a snowball at him but Luke easily dodges it.

Luke eyes Brooke. “I mean, he’s flirting with you. You know that, right?”

She nods.

“Just checking.”

Luke tromps over to me and holds out his hand. “Give me the shovel. Go have fun.”

“I’m good.”

Luke’s eyebrows raise. “You don’t sound like it.”

I hit the walkway with the shovel and scoop up a load of wet snow. “Your hearing is off.”

He stares at me and then just nods. “Okay. Got it.”

My gut feels twisted and I’m annoyed by it.

Brooke is now laughing and running away from Jackson, who is pelting her with snowballs. She stumbles and falls in the snow and Jackson falls down beside her, reaching for her. She shrieks and rolls away.

“No, no,” he protests. “Truce. I swear. I’m not trying to trick you.”

They’re both on their backs.

“Promise?” she asks, turning her head to eye him. She looks poised to roll away if necessary.

He touches the tip of her nose in a tender way. “Promise.”

Her attention is fixed on him, and that gives my gut another twist. I want her to pay attention to me . Which is selfish and something I need to get under control. This is about Brooke, not me, just like last night was.

Brooke starts swinging her arms and legs out in the snow. “Snow angel contest! Luke, judge me and Jackson on whose is better.”

“Sure. It’s all about the clean exit,” Luke says. He shoots me one last look and steps down into the yard again.

Jackson is pretending like he’s going to mess up her lines by swinging his legs really wide.

“Cheater!”

Their grins are wide, their breath visible puffs, rising as they laugh and jostle together.

Luke holds his hand out to Brooke. “Here, angel.”

She takes his hand and lets him haul her to her feet so she can cleanly jump out of her snow angel without messing it up. She smiles up at Luke but he doesn’t return one. The smile on her face falters a little.

“Now who's cheating?” Jackson demands, stumbling out of his and destroying the left wing.

“Brooke wins,” Luke says without hesitation. “Now let’s go back inside. It’s fucking cold out here.”

“Agreed,” Jackson says, dusting himself off. He reaches over and brushes snow off of Brooke’s back. “I need to change into dry clothes.” His hand drifts lower. “So do you.”

“I’m going to take a hot shower,” Brooke says.

She bites her bottom lip. For a second, I think she’s going to invite Jackson to join her, but then she seems to remember I exist. She glances over at me, but doesn’t say anything.

Luke and Jackson go past me into the house. I’m shoveling like a man possessed when Brooke pauses beside me.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine.” Confused as fuck, but fine.

“Is this weird? I don’t know how I’m supposed to act. This is all new to me.” She crosses her arms over her chest. Her nose is pink from the cold and she looks worried. “Jackson said this isn’t a competition but… it still feels that way to me. Jackson is flirting and you look annoyed and you and I didn’t really talk about what any of this means, if anything...”

So she and Jackson had a private discussion? I know she left the room to check on Henley and the puppies last night. She must have run into him and clearly they both felt a connection.

I don’t really want to have this conversation right now, but I want to—need to—reassure her that the ball is in her court here. I do mean that. I touch her chin and tip her head up.

“Brooke. I like you. A lot. I want to date you after this weekend. Take you out to dinner, go hiking together, spend many nights like last night again with you. But I know this is all new to you. If you want to date Jackson too, or spend the night with him, I’m fine with that. Everything is up to you. It’s all your choice, beautiful.”

Fine may be exaggerating it, but I understand she’s inexperienced. In reality, if she wants to date another guy, I would prefer it be my best friend, who I know will treat her right.

“Last night was so wonderful,” she says. “You’ve really opened my eyes, and it was so special, and I really like you too, Wyatt. I’m just not sure what exactly I want right now. It’s all new and a little… overwhelming.”

“I’ll hang back,” I tell her. “I don’t want to overwhelm you or put any expectations on you.” My heart squeezes just a little, but I have to do what’s right for Brooke, not me. “This isn’t a competition. This is whatever you want.”

I’m willing to wait for however long it takes.

I’m falling hard for Brooke and I want to be with her. Permanently.

But she’s not ready for that.

“Are you sure?” She’s searching my expression.

“I’m sure.” I give her a soft kiss. “Jackson is a good guy.”

Brooke puts her arms around my neck and kisses me. “So are you.”

She slips past me and into the house.

Why do I feel like I just friend-zoned myself all over again?

Way to go, asshole.

I go back to shoveling, trying to clear out my frustration.

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