11. FAMILIAR
Cassie
It’s interesting, the way Jake is acting right now. Not just protective, but... caring. He keeps throwing me. He can be so guarded, but then these moments of tenderness peek through and I want to say, “See? There it is. That’s how I know you’re a good guy.”
I can’t. I can’t say those words, because I know this moment will be over in a hot second, and it’ll kill me. Sitting here on a sunny bench with his arm hugging me close is maybe the best thing I can remember feeling.
I feel a drip of moisture fall from my cheek to his shirt and hope like hell that he doesn’t notice. I don’t want anything to break the spell. Whatever it is that’s so dark inside him, that makes him think he can’t be good to me, I want to beat it back for as long as possible.
Right now, I’d give anything to stay with him like this forever.
The spell is broken by a honking horn and AJ shouting, “Hey, guys!”
I sniff and take a quick swipe at my face, waving with more enthusiasm than is necessary. “Hey. Heading back?”
“Yeah. All the assisted-living folks are beautified, and I need a nap.” He points to Jake. “You mind giving her a ride?”
I stiffen, worried Jake’s going to feel put upon, but he only shrugs his shoulders. “No worries.”
Is he telling AJ not to worry? Or me? God, sometimes I think maybe I overthink everything.
Maybe... maybe... What if...
Jake gives a quick wave. He doesn’t smile but he doesn’t look too bothered, either, except for the fact that he’s squinting into the sun.
“I could’ve gone with him,” I say. Just to be really sure.
I’ve been trouble to enough people. My mom. My ex.
Jake shrugs. “You guys sure made friends fast.” He points in the direction AJ went.
“I guess. It’s helpful to have a friend when you’re a new person in a strange place.” I squint into the sun to try and see him better. “What about you?”
“I don’t make friends.”
I frown. The image of him talking to the waitress at Joe’s Place waltzes into my mind, bold and unwanted and vivid. “What about that waitress at Joe’s? You seemed friendly with her.”
I can tell I’ve struck a nerve with him. That muscle in his jaw turns to stone. His dimpled chin juts out. The warm blue of his eyes frosts over. “She’s not a friend. She’s... someone I hang out with sometimes.”
Oh. So I was right about her.
As if to end the conversation, Jake balls up his trash from our meal. The muscles in his arms and shoulders bunch with every press and roll, and I can’t help but wish I looked so effortlessly strong and confident all the time. He also looks isolated a lot though, and I think he must have even more trouble trusting than I do. I don’t want to get that hardened to the world. I’m afraid if I do, there won’t be anything to live for.
When he comes back from tossing the trash in a nearby bin, he doesn’t seem mad about what we were discussing. In fact, he holds out his hand. “Come on.”
I only look at his large palm and outstretched fingers for a second or two before I grab hold. His skin is warm and rough and perfect against mine. So perfect that for a second I can’t breathe.
“You okay?” He looks at me, concerned.
“Sure.” I cough to cover up my stupid moment of infatuation. “Probably allergies.”
He nods and opens the door to his truck. I relax against the sun-heated seat and try to find my breath again while I wait for him to get in and take me home. Sadness washes over me, so deep and heavy, the stifling heat in Jake’s truck cab could be a swimming pool.
I’ve been here before. Fear is familiar. It has been since the attack. Mom’s death, leaving home, all these life changes have turned up the “what ifs” full force. I can’t let them swallow me. I close my eyes and focus on the air moving through my nose. In. Out.
The next thing I know, Jake is shaking my shoulder and whispering in my ear. “Hey, sleepyhead. We’re here.”
I jolt up, heart racing. “I fell asleep?” I usually have so much trouble falling asleep, and I can’t believe I zonked out in Jake’s truck.
His smile is friendly now. The blue in his eyes glints in the sun, his cheeks dimpling with amusement. “You sure as hell did. I went over a pothole and everything. You even drooled some.”
He swipes a thumb over the corner of my mouth to show me, and even in the intense July heat, my body breaks out in shivers. Because his face is inches from mine. His thumb is on my lips.
We hover there, eyes locked like we’re suspended in time. Nobody moves. I can’t take my eyes off his lips, the way they’re parted and full and he’s got to be thinking the same thing I am so why in God’s name won’t he kiss me?