Travis snapped his fingers in front of Jake’s face. “Get it together, man. If you don’t watch it, you’re going to start panting.”
Already there. “Sorry, just distracted.” He cleared his throat and turned to look at Travis and Kacey. Travis looked irritated, Kacey looked concerned. Oh great, he was going to get the talk again. To save time he beat her to the punch. “Kace, I’m fine. It was a rough night, bad choices, I’m better now, and I’m hitting the water, not the alcohol. Seriously, you’re not my mom.” That sounded harsher than he’d meant it to sound, which was proven when Travis took a step forward. But Kacey stopped Travis with her hand.
And then her eyes followed Jake’s as he stole another glance at Char.
With a growl she handed Travis her drink and pulled Jake by the ear outside. “OW, what the hell, Kace!”
“You slept with her!”
“What? Who?”
“Char!”
“Yes!” Her eyes grew twice their normal size. “No, I mean a long time ago, yes.”
Holy shit he was sweating.
Kacey released the hostage ear and crossed her arms. “How long?”
“A year or so.” He looked down at the ground. “It was a mistake.”
“You!” Kacey poked his chest as Jake tried to shush her. “You’re the one that she spent the night with before the whole YouTube clip.”
“Guilty.” In more than one way.
Scowling, Kacey shook her head. “I should have known. All signs pointed to a Titus.”
“All signs?”
“Yeah, drinking, debauchery, irresponsibility, TV…”
Jake held up his hand for her to stop. “Fine, I get it. But it’s not like I’ve done anything since, and you know it.” Damn her for calling him on his bullshit. When he’d got drunk at her engagement party she’d told him to shape up his life or die in a prostitute’s bed—no joke. It wasn’t as if he didn’t try to do right, it just seemed like every time he did, he got shit on. It was so much easier to go the other route, to be what people expected. Irresponsible and carefree. It seemed the minute he did try to act serious and be responsible—people asked if he was drunk. It was embarrassing and again made him want to flinch, to pull away, and fall back into old habits.
“You have that look,” Kacey said, interrupting his morose thoughts.
“Look, what look?” Jake tried to change his face but failed miserably when Char walked by the window.
“That look!” Kacey poked him in the chest again. “You’re falling for her!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
Jake wiped his face with his hand and cursed. “Can you please be an adult?”
“Says the guy who slept with two drunken twins last night.”
“I didn’t.” Jake coughed. “I couldn’t… I mean… I didn’t want to and I didn’t.”
“Couldn’t? Or didn’t?”
Jake felt his face flush. “Both.” Damn, maybe he did need Viagra. What a depressing thought. How old was he, twenty-three?
“You hurt her,” Kacey’s finger pressed harder into his chest, “I cut off your—”
“Dinner!” Grandma announced, opening the door to the outside porch.
Kacey turned away and answered. “Coming, Grandma!’ Then shot a glare to Jake. “Use your imagination.”
“Finger?” He said sweetly.
“You’re an ass.” She looped her arm within his as they walked around the house to the outdoor gazebo where dinner was being served.
Jake exhaled. “So I’ve been told, over and over and over again.”
Kacey stopped walking and sighed. “Aren’t you tired of it?” Her eyes pleaded with his and for once in his life he couldn’t find his mask of indifference, the one any insecure guy used when he was trying to damn the world and live for himself. With a heavy shudder he shrugged. It was all he could manage to do. Words seemed too hard to form.
Kacey looked toward the gazebo where Char was escorted by Jace. “I hate losing, so know I’m only saying this because I love you… but.”
Jake waited.
“Love is always worth it.”
With that, Kacey leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, then walked toward a waiting Travis.
Chapter Thirty-three
Char was going to gnaw her own arm off and eat it. Was Jake’s mom trying to torment her by waving those delicious-smelling potatoes under her nose? Char had heard that Jake’s mom had a problem with talking too much, but she had no idea it would be like that.
Back and forth the spoon went as Bets talked. Over the plate, over the bowl, over the plate, over the bowl. She probably looked like a cat playing with its mouse.