I smile. “I guess.”
She stares me down, and her eyes narrow in contemplation. “I don’t need a sugar daddy, Jake.”
“Good, because that term has always creeped me out, and I really don’t want to be associated with it.”
“I’m serious. I’m not helpless. I’m just a little broke until I get paid again, because my insurance went up again this month, making things a little tighter.”
“When is payday?”
“…Two weeks.”
“Yeah. Come on.” She looks so torn. If I don’t want to throw her over my shoulder, I’m going to have to reason with her. “Please, Evie. Let me help. I promise this won’t make you beholden to me. I can just help you with this one little thing to get you on your feet, and then I swear I’ll never force my money on you again.”
She grins a little. “All right, fine.” She’s crossing in front of me, headed for my truck. Bra forgotten. “But we’re also buying the ingredients for your favorite brownies so I can make them as a thank you.” She pauses at the right bumper and looks over
her shoulder. Her damp hair is flowing in the wind, and she looks way too cute in that oversized shirt. “Except, I’m going to have to make it at your place because I don’t have an oven.”
Chapter Eighteen
EVIE: I opened my pantry this morning and felt overwhelmed. I’ve never had so many breakfast choices before.
JAKE: Mix them all together.
EVIE: EW! Are you one of those people who stacks all of your food on top of each other at Thanksgiving?
JAKE: It all goes to the same place.
EVIE: *GIF of a woman yelling “murderer!”*
JAKE: So you’re a gif girl, huh?
EVIE: I prefer them over words.
JAKE: *Gif of a person walking across the street*
EVIE: What in the world was that????
JAKE: I thought you preferred them over words. That was me saying I’m leaving to come get you soon.
EVIE: Wait, why?! I can call an Uber.
JAKE: I know. But I want to come get you.
EVIE: Stop being so nice to me all the time.
JAKE: But then someone might take my nice guy trophy away.
I’m sitting in Jake’s truck, feeling baseball-sized butterflies fill my stomach. It’s the day of the pool party, and in approximately ten minutes, I will meet every member of Jake’s family. This still perplexes me. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing here. I do know that I’m holding a tin of extra-fudgy brownies in my lap…but only because I spent the evening at his house last night making them. Sam helped while Jake hovered and kept trying to stick his finger in the batter. I swatted him no less than three times, and the whole thing felt oddly domestic.
I want to love it. I want to let myself be ridiculously happy with what seems to be blooming between us. But I can’t seem to silence the loud voice in my head that won’t stop screaming WHAT THE HECK IS BLOOMING?!
What am I to Jake?
What is he to me?
We kissed once, a few days ago, but honestly, I’ve kissed my grandmama longer and with more gusto than the kiss that transpired between Jake and me. I feel like it doesn’t count (and I really need a do over). But neither of us has mentioned it. I think about it all the time, but I don’t dare bring it up because I'm a big stinkin’ coward. I’m scared that if I mention it, he’ll spook and run away. And I really don’t want him to run away. I want this one to stay. To like me. Maybe even love me one day. Is that crazy?
“What’s going through your head over there?” Jake’s voice makes me jump.