The Humdrum Life of a Hero

Chapter 22

A collective groan comes from the twins, while I get a suggestive wiggle of eyebrows from Jay. I roll my eyes at him, but inside the butterflies begin to come to life. As if to spite me, the twins begin slurping the marshmallow goo off of their fingers as loudly as humanly possible. I give them both disgusted look, which is met with mischevious smirks, and point upstairs, "Go brush those nasty little teeth of yours."

They scamper off and run up the stairs and out of sight. Jay pulls himself off the ground, and it's then do I notice he has changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. I guess I didn't notice when he got here because of Annalise latched onto his hip, and I didn't give it much thought after that because I took Annalise upstairs to get her tucked in.

Jay appears to be uber comfortable, which is something that isn't being a accomplished on my end with this skirt and sweater. Not only does he look comfortable, the bags under his eyes suggest that he's tired as well. Join the club, I internally smirk.

He rounds the coffee table and sits on my lap, causing me to exhales sharply as his frame lands on the tops of my thighs. "God you're heavy," I weeze.

He leans into me, pining me against the back of the couch. Draping an arm around my shoulders, he kisses me slowly and sweetly, a trend we usually don't get to enjoy seeing as how we always run the risk of being caught by either two pesky ten-year-olds or a seven-year-old. Every move we've made in a our short relationship has seemed rushed. Hardly any moment we've had alone has been able to be savored properly.

As he pulls away, I hear the pitter patter of footsteps on stairs. Another Sarah and Jay moment ruined by those damn pesky ten-year-olds.

The twins run to their sleeping bags and shimmy inside, giggling like ten-year-old girls instead of the ten-year-old boys they really are. I'm glad they enjoy this type of camping because it's very unlikely that I will ever take them camping out in the woods. I'll do a lot of things for these two, but spending a night on the hard ground with animals lurking around isn't one of them.

I shove Jay off of me and he tumbles onto the floor, but he doesn't seem to mind. He just seems impressed that I was able to actually push him off. I'm by no means a weakling, but I am smaller and shorter than Jay is, and I definitely don't have the football player's body and muscles that he possesses.

"So rude," he mutters, but adds an amused smirk when he meets my eyes. I stand up from the couch and extend a hand to him. He latches on and practically pulls my shoulder out of its socket.

"Who's being rude now?" I grunt as I yank him up. We mutually roll our eyes at each other.

"Night guys," I lean over the coffee table and ruffle the hair on their heads.

"Night," they simultaneously and robotically repeat back to me. I pick up the remote and set the timer on the television, and then Jay grabs my hand, tugging me over to the stairs. I flick off the lights on our path and lock the door as well. I just hope Tony remembered his keys tonight for whenever he drags himself into this house at whatever ridiculous hour he chooses to come home tonight.

Jay and I trip up the stairs in a silent race to the bedroom. I harshly nudge him into the wall and blow by him, winning our unannounced competition by a metaphorical mile. I block the doorway with a winning smirk on my face when he finally hauls his sweet ass up the stairs while clutching the left side of his ribcage. "I don't have all night, Keely."

He glares at me and winces. It occurs to me that I may have hurt him. I suppose ribs aren't designed to take a blow from a thrown elbow without some pain. He leans over and takes a deep breath. I take a step toward him and crouch down in front of him. "Are you okay?"

He doesn't respond. Instead he bolts upright and runs by me into my bedroom, jumping on the bed and beginning to do what appears to be touchdown dance. After he does a rousing yet terrible attempt at The Dougie, he finally responds with, "Of course I'm fine. I just won."

I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms. I furrow my brow and mutter, "You're a terrible person."

"If by terrible you mean genius, then yes, yes I am," he smiles devilishly. He jumps one last time and lands on my mattress with a thud, most likely breaking it under his size. Jay sits up and spreads his arms out wide and beckons me, "Sarah, my dear, please forgive my testosterone-fueled ignorance and come over here."

I make no attempt at moving towards him. I just let him sit there and fester in his sorryness.

He stares longingly at me as if that will sway me in his direction. Then he takes an exaggeratedly long and loud sigh and says, "I already said I'm sorry, Sarah."

"Take your shirt off." It spills out of my mouth before I even had time to filter it. Well, I didn't really need to filter it. It's not like I just told my dad or one of my brother's to strip for me. I asked my boyfriend, my incredibly sweet and sexy boyfriend.

His head tilts slightly to the side, clearly confused. "Weird request," he grabs the hem of his shirt, "but your wish is my command."

When Jay's pulls the cotton tee over his hair, it's like when Apple unveils their new IPhone and the entire crowd goes crazy with a standing ovation. I find my hands beginning to come together in clap formation, but I freeze, wanting to stay stoic.

"Happy now?" he purposely flexes his pecks. He flips his hair to the side even though it wasn't in his eyes, or anywhere remotely near his eyes considering it's not that long. And I'm not sure if this was his doing or just by chance, but his sweatpants have miraculously began hugging just below his hips, allowing me the sight of the beginning of his "V" lines.

Merry Early Christmas to me.

"Definitely."