Un-fucking believable.

Every student whose unfortunate path crossed mine, either outside or inside the School of Law as I marched to this morning's lecture, jumped out of my way. I might have also stepped on a few heels and kicked a few shins as I stomped down the marble hallways like Godzilla encroached on Rhodan, or a college student who decided early December was the perfect time for a caffeine detox.

I'm so fucking screwed. And not the version in the deal with Jake.

Even though I woke up this morning in Jake's bed, I still woke up in the best possible way, freshly fucked. My entire area between my legs ached amazingly, despite the protest from lingered soreness as Jake fucked me gently in the shower. I'd actually never gone to sleep and watched as the black sky shifted to pale blue and pink striations, thrashed my arms and legs around, and counted Jake's snores next to me.

Physically, I was a weird mix of electrified jitters from sleep deprivation and teetered on the high before the crash. My lady bits couldn't have felt happier, traitorous bitches. While I appreciated Jake's hot breakfast plate, I pushed it away and preferred that neither of us saw the food again, courtesy of the nausea that tugged at my empty stomach.

Emotionally though, I was fucked beyond recognition. I'd allowed my mother to affect me, showed up at Jake's broken and desperate, and let myself fall into a false sense of being loved. For a brief moment, I slipped under the physical high Jake took me to over and over. Mistakenly, I thought he'd melted away my pain and replaced it with...

Well, whatever it was, it's not real.

It can't be... because it's me.

I'd broken my own rules, my promises to myself, like mentally I'd fallen asleep. No, I'd pathetically begged him that I stayed, that he stayed. At that moment, I quivered like the thirteen-year-old version of me that bawled when she'd first left.

I wish I could say I blamed my broken family problems but really everything was my fault. I'd thrown myself at Jake like a desperate, sex-crazed slut, and he'd taken everything.

Including my pain. That was... uncharacteristically nice of him.

Rumbled snores aside, Jake slept beautifully. A few random locks of his dark brown hair framed his relaxed, line-free forehead, so I brushed them aside with my fingertips. A few more strands curled over his ears, licked the sides of his neck, and the rest fanned out around his head over his white pillow case. His sharp facial features, high cheekbones and angular jawline contrasted with the calm, content expression that I envied.

His closest arm flopped overhead and his elbow bent at an angle that elongated his torso. From my side, I lowered the sheets enough that his rib tattoo ink came into view.

Without pain, there is no strength.

A quiet, low groan rumbled through him, his lips twitched, and he rolled slightly towards me. I pulled the covers back, tucked the blankets around him, and tipped my head back up to the ceiling.

At that moment, I didn't hate Jake. Only myself.

I needed eighteen hours, and two sympathy fucks from Jake, before my shock wore off by the time he dropped me off at UCLA. And, like all my emotions, anger beat down the rest of them and surged to the top for dominance in my head space.

With as much red as I saw, I could've sworn I'd slipped in colored contacts. My forehead throbbed from how hard I glared at the world around me. That world had shrunk, contorted, and twisted itself away from the world I thought I'd lived in since I moved down here three months ago.

The cruel irony that I'd left home to start a new chapter of my life, only for my past to resurface stung worse than a bad UTI.

Strain throbbed my wrists sore from how tightly clenched my fists stayed. Knotted tension drew my shoulders up until they painfully pinched into the base of my neck. A low-toned sound pierced my ears.

Yet, for whatever pissed off, enraged female warrior exterior I projected, internally I battled the storm of emotions that bubbled up and haunted me in the form of a thrashed-limb, sleepless night. How Jake slept next to me, snored like a chainsaw actually, I still had no idea.

Beneath my stoic exterior, I felt like every one of my internal organs had been stabbed worse than any bad horror movie. My emotions pooled like internal hemorrhaging bled me from the inside out.

The worst part was the curiosity that poked up for attention like a needy bitch. The questions it prompted in me chewed on me from the back of my mind, eroded away my normal walls of common sense, and left my brain raw and exposed.

The fuck is she doing here? Now? How the fuck did she even find me?

Why am I even giving her the thought space? Fuck, I -

Like every Monday through Friday, I sat through my three-hour class this morning. Today though, I sat in the very last lecture auditorium row, entirely numb for three hours straight. My ass never moved from my seat, not even for the intermission stretch and bathroom break, and by the end, today's lecture notes remained as blank as they'd been when I'd walked into class.

My brain was full, completely occupied and distracted. Blurred shapes and muffled voices moved around me like an unfocused fog. Only EJ's large hand on my shoulder drew my attention to the fact the class had ended. I wanted to punch him right in between the dark brown eyes that looked down at me with concern.

Thankfully, I didn't, not for EJ's sake but the rage that flared up inside me at the sight of her again. She stood outside the School of Law Building, on the steps with her arms crossed while students weaved around her tall, thin frame. My inner bitch mode silently cheered at the concern that etched lines down the center of her forehead and into the corners of her eyes as they searched over the crowd.

I'll show her.

My feet cut out of the sidewalk stream and stomped over the grass along the side of the building. With my head tipped down and fists clenched around my backpack straps at my shoulders, I marched around a confrontation I'd never wanted, with the one person whose actions impacted my life more than anyone else and I hated myself for giving her that power.

The mix of green and brown blades blurred as I narrowed my eyes and shuffled my feet as fast as they moved. The tip of my toes bumped into a pair of grayed Nikes right before my forehead slammed into a hard chest.

Warmth from his hands over my shoulders was the only recognition I needed. My teeth clenched so tightly shut, I was surprised I hadn't popped out a molar or bit my tongue off.

Jacob Fucking Harrison.

Of all the words he could've chosen at this particular moment, Jake's fat mouth opened up with, "You're not a runner, firecracker."

A sneer peeled back my lips faster than I spat out, "Maybe you don't know me that well."

"Or maybe I know you better than you give me credit for," he mumbled and slipped one of his arms over my shoulders. "Besides, she's just going to keep coming back unless you talk to her."

"Reminds me of someone else," I grumbled under the painful truth that Jake was right.

Fuck, now he's making sense. What has my life come to?

Under Jake's gentle guidance, with a few harder nudges pushed into my lower back, I groaned and walked back to where my birth giver stood. My legs felt like tree stumps with the ragged steps I dragged my feet over the grass, back onto the sidewalk. The opposite flow of traffic gently parted around Jake, with a few curious glances up at him.

She turned at Jake's quiet cough, then dragged her light-blue eyes - fuck, how identical they were to mine still freaked me out - over both of us. She quickly blinked away her initial surprise, followed by a plastered smile of her berry-colored lips that none of me trusted. In her best exercised judgment, she stepped forwards but then stopped herself when I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Harper, I'm sorry to barge in, I really just want to speak with you," she might have scored some points for her direct approach, except for the way her eyes flipped sideways and curiously roamed over Jake. "I assume your boyfriend is coming too. Is there somewhere we could all speak?"

Or I can just run you over with my car, duct tape up the evidence, and -

"There's a coffee house a short walk that way." Jake nodded off to our right and I shot him what I hoped looked like a heated glare.

My idea's better than Kerckhoff.

"Perfect." She offered a shaky smile and we walked silently down the perpendicular sidewalk.

Each step felt like I marched towards a firing squad. My heart pounded painfully hard, so hard that the beats resonated in my ear drums. Spastic twitches flicked the tips of my fingers, so I squeezed them into tight fists.

Oddly, under the weight of ten years' absence from my own fucking mother, one stupid, completely unrelated thought wedged itself into my consciousness.

Jake didn't correct her.

And neither did I.

"If you need a fucking kidney or something, you've come to the wrong person," I spat out more bitterly than the watered-down coffee I sipped that should've been replaced two hours earlier.

Jake had wedged me into a corner table at Li's coffee place of choice. Light tan and chocolate brown walls frame the counter area. Natural light flooded the small space filled with black iron chairs with tan leather seats and an expresso cup detail on the back.

From where Jake's gigantor frame sat pressed into me, his large hand clasped warmly over my left thigh. I moved it aside and put distance between us because, fuck, at this point I was beyond pissed off at him.

Can't believe we're here right now. Fuck me.

By the time we sat down, both my feet bounced on the dark brown tile floors where Jake and I faced... Vanessa the Betrayer. My mood had gone from begrudging acceptance that we ripped off this Band-Aid to outright angry and vengeful bitch.

Just like yesterday, she looked put together. Black suit sleeves covered her elbows, which she rested on the brown table, edged with black like they somehow coordinated. Her beautifully shiny, manicured nails tapped into the sides of her upper arms as her eyes flipped back and forth between me and Jake.

In what I doubted was a coincidence, he'd shoved me into the corner side and parked his fat ass on the aisle. For that, I'd thrown my backpack at him, heavy with today's already forgotten lecture topic notes.

Effectively trapped, my shoulders curled inward and my empty stomach clenched hard. But I still had my bite and spat out, "What do you want?"

Her eyes settled on mine. "I can't begin to -"

"If you can't begin then this shit conversation is pointless." I half-stood up, only to where my knees knocked into the table.

Warm pressure from Jake's hand on my thigh brought my ass back down with a plop.

Womb donor's face tensed. "Harper, your father warned me about your language."

"My... what!?" My lips parted and I blinked a few times.

When the fuck did she talk to Dad? And why the fuck didn't he tell me?

I gestured for Jake to give me my backpack, which he silently obliged. A quick check at my 'Do Not Disturb' phone showed sixty-two alerts.

Oh.

"I called his office this morning," she replied coolly without even a flicker of change in her expression. "To see if he -"

"He'd what!?" Pain burst into my palms from how sharply I sank my nails in. "Back you up? Sell me out? You might've wedged yourself out of our family but you're not coming between me and Dad."

"Perhaps if you knew the whole truth..." Her eyes narrowed and an icy tone clipped into her voice. "You wouldn't be so quick to judge."

"Perhaps if you'd told me before your ass up and left," I shot back. Jake's hand squeezed my thigh hard, like a grounding rod, and I drew my shoulders down. "Fine, spin your truth then get the fuck out of my life."

"You'd know my truth if you ever read my letters." Her chest lifted and fell with a slow sigh. "Your father explained your... burning methods. I can't say I don't blame you but -"

"Don't." I barked out a sharp, bitter laugh that lifted up my chin but inwardly even the familiarity of her voice stabbed me with each word she spoke. "Don't sit there and pretend that you know anything about me."

"And you don't know enough," she retorted in a tight voice that also reminded me where I'd also gotten my sharp tongue from. Although, thanks to her, mine was sharper.

"Again," my voice edged with irritation, held back only by the grip Jake's hand kept on my leg. "Who's fault is that?"

"Mine," she confessed in an unexpectedly soft tone and dropped her eyes to the table between us. "I had to protect myself, Harper."

A string of accusations flew from my mouth, each one more bitter than its predecessor, "From what? A stable family? A preferable relationship from your fucking affair!?"

Vanessa was good, she paid absolutely no attention to the curious eyes my loud words drew in our direction. Instead, she recoiled inwardly, as if I'd struck her. "I was... in a hard situation," she rasped out as her eyes watered up.

My eyes only narrowed. "One you got yourself into."

"Far from it." She sniffled quietly, then wiped her eyes and gathered herself for a few awkward moments.

She steadied her breath, then closed her eyes like she gathered her own strength. Her eyes narrowed and she threw a dart, no a fucking javelin, straight into my heart. "Your father was having an affair."

The coffee- and baked-goods-infused air grew stale. All the tan-colored walls squeezed in on me and my breath stalled in my lungs. In a hushed whisper, I gasped out, "What?"

"I had an affair because your father had one first," she spoke in such a casual, matter-of-fact tone while my cheeks felt like the blood drained out of them. The vice grip Jake's hand now clamped down on my leg barely registered in my brain.

Trembles shook down my spine but I straightened it and sat higher. My mouth dried but I swallowed hard and fixed my eyes right in between hers. "Two wrongs don't make a right."

"I wasn't thinking rationally." A flash of guilt flickered through her eyes. "I was pregnant."

I shifted back in the leather seat like she'd struck me. Jake's hand tensed on my thigh, which coiled up his entire arm by the way his forearm, bicep, and shoulder muscles clenched into definition along my side.

Her long, slender, delicate fingers pulled out a phone from her purse, flipped over the screen, and she laid it down on the table. My stomach rolled at the sight of her and a younger boy, with light blonde hair and a toothy smile hugged her tightly.

"His name is..." she whispered so softly that, combined with the pulse that buzzed in my ears, I missed his actual name.

My only reaction was I blinked down at the image, the perfect evidence of her upgraded, second-chance, no upgraded, family. While none of me wanted to touch her phone, I glared down at it until Jake's hand pushed it back across the table to her.

"He's the reason I'm here, the reason I wrote you letters," she admitted quietly. "He's a very loving boy, and... he wants to meet you."

What in the Telemundo is this shit!?

My eyebrows shot up so hard, I was surprised my hair was still attached. "Is he dying?"

"He's..." She sighed quietly and put away her phone. "He's a curious boy with a big heart. We've never hidden you from him and vice versa. All of my letters over the years have described him for you."

The weight of her news sprung hot tears in my eyes.

All those letters I burned were... about my brother?

This was too much, too painful, and I was done. Feeling burned darker than the blackened cinnamon rolls that puffed smoke through the coffee house, I'd reached my capacity for how much more I could stomach.

"Your dad said... you've never seen these." She swallowed hard, pulled a thick envelope from her purse, then slid it across the table at me. "But I hope you'll give him a chance."

My throat tightened and squeezed harder the more her hand pushed the envelope towards my lap. In a strained voice, I pressed my back into the seat back behind me so hard I probably gave myself an imprinted coffee cup and rasped out, "What do you want?"

"I know you want nothing to do with me." She kept her hand extended, her perfectly manicured nails flashed in her long, slender, splayed out fingers over the large yellow folder. "And I'm not here to -"

"What do you want," I found my edge again and gritted out each word harder.

"It's what he wants," she whispered quietly. Finally, she withdrew her hand. Her head dipped down and eyes dropped to her lap, where her right fingers played with the band on her left ring finger. "His wish -"

"Tell your kid that wishes don't come true," I muttered and shoved away the envelope. "Sooner he realizes that, the better."

Jake must've sensed my tolerance capacity meter had burst, and finally spoke up, "You've made your point. If she doesn't want to meet him then that's her choice. Is that all you want from Harper?"

Her eyes shifted between us, then blurred from my view. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded heavy with guilt, "I just thought... You deserved to know the truth. About me, your brother."

"I know the truth. You're so fucking selfish." I glared angrily into her eyes, identical to mine in color but hers filled with remorse while I imagined my burned with the rage that boiled inside me. At least I hope they did.

My index finger trembled as I jabbed it in her nose's direction. "Couldn't stand that I hated just you, could you? No, you have to show up, completely uninvited, and try to make me hate Dad too."

"No." Her head shook a few times, a husky sound threaded into her voice, "Harper, I -"

"Fuck you." I elbowed Jake in the ribs, who thankfully stood up.

With a gentle squeeze on my shoulder, he silently studied me like he searched for any sign I was okay. I couldn't imagine what I looked like at that moment, probably borderline 'eerily silent calm but internally serial killer' because that's how I felt, but I wasn't going to stick around any longer under the gaze of his sympathetic eyes. In movements as fast as my feet had, I spun on my heels and tore out of the coffee house.

"Harper, please," Vanessa called quietly after me. "Where are you -"

"I'm leaving," I tossed coldly over my shoulder. "After all, I learned it from the best. Go back to your upgraded family and stay the fuck away from what's left of mine."

My feet stomped across the tile floors towards the wall of windows by the exit. In my hasty escape, I'd forgotten my backpack, but I flung both palms against the glass door and shoved it hard. The soft chimes echoed in my ears and fresh air fanned over my face but my empty stomach rolled with nausea.

I made it three steps before I halfway hinged over and dry-heaved right on the spot, an open brick courtyard-like area. My stomach rolled and cramped hard and I choked up congestion and bile that burned the insides of my throat and mouth before I expelled it from my lips.

Well, that's embarrassing.

A warm hand flattened on my lower back, while another gathered up my hair and swept it aside.

"Harper, I'm sorry," Jake mumbled quietly into my numb ear. I wasn't sure where he'd gotten a bottle of water from, but he handed me one. I took it with a shaky smile and rinsed my mouth out one unladylike gargle and spit at a time.

"Thanks," I mumbled and traded my backpack that his hands extended out to me with the bottle.

A burn seared my throat from the silent screams I wanted released as we left together. My eyes glued to the sidewalk two feet in front of mine and he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

I wanted to scream at her, at Jake, at myself.

Fuck yes, I'm mad at Jake.

With a quick flip up of my gaze, I studied him out of the corners of my eyes. Blurred slightly from my lashes, his head was tipped down, jaw clenched tight and shoulders rose up higher than normal.

The more I looked, the more irrational, displaced thoughts burned into my mind. How could he interfere? He had no right barging into my personal life the way he had.

Because fuck, you don't get more personal than a Mom and child, particularly my fucked up relationship.

Only contacting me so I can marvel over her preferred child? Fuck no.

Rationally, I had no reason to be mad at Jake. But I was mad, furious in fact. He'd poked his nose where it didn't belong but worse than that he'd... weakened me. My bitch of a mother oozed herself right through the cracks he'd broken into my steady resolve.

Softened down and weakened by the way Jake had weaseled himself back into my... feelings, I'd allowed my mother to personally affect me. The more we walked in silence back to my dorm room, reality sunk into my stomach one painful realization at a time.

I was the shittiest person when it came to emotions but knew that disillusionment was a bitch. I wasn't sure it was an actual emotion or just a mental awareness moment, but fuck it hurt.

I was disillusioned that my mother mattered nothing to me.

I was disillusioned that Jake and I were detached fuck-buddies because fuck, I sure wasn't anymore.

Within the fallout that followed my disillusionment, I painfully and irrationally questioned everything I'd convinced myself was the truth. And, unfortunately for his sake, my questions started with my blurred over, rule-broken relationship with Jake.

How did I let that happen? He's not a nice guy when it comes to treating girls. Why didn't I learn that the first time?

I hadn't tracked how many girls Jake had slept with but fuck, I'd seen one of them in his bed, twice. Sure, he denied his involvement but how much more of a red fucking flag was needed before I wised the fuck up? Should I have waited until I caught him with his cock rammed inside Emily before I truly judged Jake's character?

Which I've never done, maybe I should have a long time ago.

I wasn't sure how I'd ignored any and all signs that pointed to Jake's fucked up approach with girls but he wasn't entirely to blame. I'd buried my head in my own vagina's sand, fallen under his cocky charms and sexual satisfaction, and fuck, even developed feelings for him in the process.

Beyond fucking pathetic, Harper.

The irony that I'd realized this and paid more attention to it while my womb donor spewed off her sad-broken family pleas slapped me harder than her actual presence here.

I can't even argue that I don't know him. The cruel way he tosses girls aside and I'm next.

The familiar pink brick of Reiber Hall came into view. My teeth clenched so tight that my molars grinded together.

Not if I toss my ass out first.

Like a child with an overactive imagination, I'd fallen into the mental trap of my self-altered reality, and fuck, I'd even felt happy. My initial reaction was I'd wanted nothing more than to hit rewind on the remote of my fucked-up life, where Jake and I went back to the night of his team dinner.

If I squeezed my eyes tight enough, I still saw the way he gazed at me softly in the bathroom. Warmth glowed in his dark brown eyes, my release glistened over his lips, and my heart ached with each beat. I'd nearly blurted out my feelings for him instead of kissing him on the forehead... then again when he dropped me off at UCLA and softly kissed me goodnight.

Thank fuck I hadn't gone that far. But I wanted to, that's the painful part.

And I just got the biggest wakeup call as to why I'm too fucked up.

Life didn't work like disillusionment, where living through lies was better than facing the painful, harsh truth. I'd buried myself into the core of the disillusioned reality that Jake and I were as happily together as we projected ourselves and my mother was nonexistent. Once kicked out of that space, I wanted nothing more than to burrow myself into the warmth of Jake's arms, where I lived in blissful ignorance.

But the truth doesn't work like that, it comes out when it wants, and sure hurts like a bitch when it does.

Eventually, the fog always cleared, shit hit the fan, the other shoe dropped, whatever the fuck Hallmark-painted sayings applied when the truth bitch slapped fate, then they tag team-fucked you back into reality whether you were ready or not.

With the foundation from my arrangement with Jake, the house of cards I'd stacked up crashed in one final gust of wind, and I took my decision like I faced a firing squad. My shoulders leveled, I lifted my chin, and stared straight into Jake's eyes.

"You took advantage of me," I rasped out in a shaky voice.

His hand reached out for me, under what motivation I wasn't sure, but I recoiled and shrank back at how my body ached for his touch. The gentle way his fingertips brushed over the back of my closest elbow jolted me back a step.

Understandably, his forehead creased and Jake looked at me like I was insane. "I... what? Who showed up at who's place?"

"I did," anger bit through my word and fuck, I actually wished I took it back. No, I wanted to go back to when my feelings were buried deep inside and I pretended those hadn't existed either. Like the broken, needy girl I despised, my voice rang out meek and needy, "I was vulnerable."

"Shit, Harper." One of Jake's hand's fingers ran over his hair. "I had no idea, if I hurt you last night being too rough -"

"Not the rough stuff," I admitted quietly as my eyes averted from his because fuck, one look and I knew I crumbled with the hopes his arms caught me. "That was... nice."

Jake's hand now scrubbed down the front of his face. In a strained voice, he croaked out, "What did I do wrong? I tried -"

"My mom," I whispered as her eyes shone with fresh tears. "My feelings were vulnerable, you had no right -"

"Fuck, I didn't mean to butt in," he muttered quietly. "But I'm not sorry for making sure you weren't alone while talking to her. She's manipulative as shit -"

"She's manipulative? What are you playing at here, Jake!?" I screeched out, seething with displaced anger. Desperate for a release, it bubbled up under my skin with a jumbled mess of too many other emotions to disentangle, surged through my veins, and trembled my lower lip.

With sharp jabs of my finger into his chest, I pushed, "Emotional support? Gentle pity sex with aftercare in the shower? What the fuck are you doing, setting me up before you crush my heart again!? Now's the perfect moment, take your best shot."

Jake stared at me for a long time, his eyes dark and unblinking. With a slowly drawn in, ragged breath, he held up one finger and stepped aside. Muttered strings of curse words, which sounded a lot like, "fucking insane," poured out of his mouth and his fists tightened.

He's not wrong. This is why I can't do relationships.

"Harper," he spoke in a low, steady voice that sounded like he'd collected himself. "If you'd just let me, I have every right to be concerned about you and have absolutely no regrets making love to you."

He blurred under the hot tears that rose when that word hit my ears, a word I'd convinced myself had no place in my vocabulary. I hadn't even noticed he now stood in front of me until his hands cupped my cheeks and his rough thumbs brushed those tears away. Frustration soaked his voice and tightened his fingers into my cheeks, "Because I am. I'm fucking in lo-"

"No!"

I screamed out so the rest of that word out of Jake's mouth died before my ears heard it. The painful clench of my heart showed my efforts fell short, but I slammed both my fists into his chest. "Don't you say that to me. Fuck, you can't. I can't."

Impossible.

My shrill screams dissolved into pathetic begging, that sprung up another round of hot tears in my eyes and clogged my nose with congestion. Dryness coated in the inside of my mouth, my throat squeezed in on itself, and a sharp burn stung my lungs from my held-in breath.

"Harper," he stated in a quiet, even tone, like a pillar of calmness that stood against my mental shitstorm. "What can I -"

"Nothing!" I yelped out pathetic and fisted his chest again, in a movement that came out more like my hands slumped under gravity's weight. "For once in my life, do fucking nothing."

"Harper," he warned me calmly.

Calm!? How the fuck is he calm right now? I'm on the verge of a brain aneurysm.

Fuck, how I hated that he was calm and I was unhinged. I hated everything about him at that moment, the concern that warmed his eyes, the confident way he stood in front of me, even the soft curls of dark strands that wrapped over his ears and side of his neck.

I hated that Jake Harrison knew what he wanted in his life and had convinced himself that was me.

"I... can't do this anymore." I shoved him off, hard enough that his back bumped into the brick building behind him. "Back the fuck out of my life, Jake."

For once, he didn't call after me, or attempted to move. I still felt the weight of his eyes on me though, so for emphasis, I added, "And stay there this time!"

I hadn't gotten more than one step further before I knew my own words had turned into total bullshit.