I opened my eyes to pitch darkness.
I'd fallen asleep again without getting ready for bed.
I groaned and the curse that left my lips was muffled by the textbook underneath my face.
It was a book with too many pages.
I didn't want to read it and probably didn't _need _to read it.
Heck, I'd been trying to read it for the past five hours and the result...well, a wet trail of drool straight down the binding.
Hypnotherapy 101 was one course I was destined to fail if I couldn't even get through the main text on the subject. I knew I needed to study but there were a lot of things I'd rather do, like—
The corner of my lip turned up in a lopsided smile and my clit throbbed in response.
Yep, that's what I'd rather do.
I had lots of material stashed away in my memory. The latest of which was the feel of Jacob Fimmel's hands around my waist.
I closed my eyes briefly, as I revelled in the memory. God, imagine those hands doing the same thing as he guided me down onto his...
Mmm.
I stopped the thought as my clit throbbed again.
Thinking about Jacob only led to one thing and I really needed to get back to studying. My lecturer didn't care about hot men or what I'd like them to do to me. Or did he? I chuckled at the thought.
Yawning, I waited a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the room. Judging from how dark it was, I reckoned mom had already come home from her shift at the hospital. Slipping my leg over the mattress and sliding onto the floor, I padded lighty to her room.
The door was half open, as she'd always left it after dad died...after everything changed...after I started having recurring nightmares that had me waking every night, drenched in sweat, my pulse through the roof. She'd left her door open so she could hear my screams and come to wake me.
That was the thing with those nightmares. I was always paralyzed, unable to move, unable to wake myself up—just trapped in the nightmare playing in my head with my body wanting run but my mind holding me frozen.
The memory of the dreams made me shudder.
Peeping into the room, I could just make out mom's blonde head poking from under the duvet. Her light snoring confirmed what I already knew—she was completely worn out.
A sad smile smoothed my lips.
She didn't have to work so hard if she wasn't alone. She was only working so hard for me.
I sighed as the whole reason why I needed to complete college confronted me again. What started out as a way to potentially help myself was now presenting itself as a lifeline for both of us.
I needed to complete community college for both of us.
Stepping away quietly from the door, I padded to the refrigerator and poured myself a glass of orange juice. I still hadn't turned on the light but I knew the kitchen by heart, plus my eyes had adjusted to the darkness.
I'd done a lot of things in my room in the darkness. My eyes were used to it.
Walking aimlessly over to the kitchen window, I sipped my orange juice and looked out. The light across from me caught my attention immediately. I could see right into Jacob's kitchen.
It was empty though; no one was around. Why was the light on? I wasn't sure, but it had to be around three a.m. at least.
I stood looking into the kitchen for a few minutes, absentmindedly sipping on my orange juice. Just when I was about to turn and head back to my room I saw him.
Jacob.
A shirtless Jacob.
He walked into the kitchen and headed directly to the refrigerator. I watched, my heart rate increasing, as he pulled out a bottle of alcohol, poured himself a glass, and took a drink.
It must have been very strong because he screwed his face a little as the drink made contact with his throat.
He closed his eyes for a second and leaned back against the kitchen counter.
A delightful little buzz went up my spine as I watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat, and I swallowed as well. My mouth was suddenly dry.
What luck to be giving my eyes such an early morning feast. I gulped again as my eyes roamed over his arms then down his chest. I could just about make out the dark curly wisps that ran down his torso and disappeared in his pants.
I knew where they led. I knew what they pointed to.
I could feel myself getting moist just thinking about it.
Fuck. I wish I could see it again.
Hard. Thick. Large and throbbing.
"Layla?" The whisper almost made me jump out of my skin.
Red-faced, and thankful she couldn't see my cheeks in the darkness, I swung my neck so fast in the direction of the sound, it almost broke.
Mom padded over to me. I could see her rubbing her eyes.
"What are you doing up?" I could've asked her the same question.
"I was studying." I didn't know why I was whispering.
My eyes flew back over to the window. Jacob was still there.
Shit. She was going to realize I had been standing here staring at him like a creep.
"You have that big exam tomorrow, don't you?" She'd reached where I was standing and I could see her face just enough to know she was looking at me as she spoke.
I nodded then realized she probably couldn't see that I did. "Yea." I let out a breath slowly. Why did I feel so guilty? Like I'd been caught doing something naughty.
Mom's warm, comforting hand pressed against my back and she patted it lightly.
"You'll pass it. It's that course you hate, isn't it?"
"Yep." I sighed again.
Mom patted my back again and then I felt her hand pause in mid-motion.
"Oh," she breathed, and my heart stopped beating for a second.
I could see her enough to realize she was now staring out the window.
I didn't quite like the way she'd said it, as if she'd seen something of interest.
I was instantly annoyed.
"I guess he can't sleep again," she murmured.
"What?"
"Jacob," she murmured again, her focus no longer on me or our conversation. No, her focus was on my midnight snack across from us and I didn't like it.
"Jacob?"
She'd called him Jacob. I mean, that was his name but it was my name for him. I only called him Jacob in private. He was Mr. Fimmel in public. But Mom was calling him by his first name.
I turned to focus my gaze on him once again and realized he was still standing in the same position, leaning against the kitchen counter.
He had the glass he'd been drinking from pressed firmly against his forehead, his eyes still closed.
She'd called him Jacob.
I repeated it in my head and felt myself frown. I knew adults referred to each other by their first names; I guess I could do the same. I was an adult too. It may be irrational, but I hated that Mom and Jacob were on a first-name basis.
"Told me he'd been having trouble sleeping lately," she continued, removing her hand from my back and folding her arms.
I could see enough of her face now to see her eyes no longer had sleep in them. They were alive with...well, I hope I wasn't seeing what I thought I was seeing in her eyes.
"He told you that? Why?" I asked, trying to hide the annoyance from my voice.
Mom glanced at me for a second. "He's my friend. We talk. He's been having trouble sleeping for some time now. He didn't tell me the cause though."
