“Are you feeling okay? Need a heating pad or anything?”
Never mind. It’s full-on love.
“I’m okay, thanks.” What I really want is to get inside Jake’s head and learn everything I can about him. I think the idea of the truth game freaked him out a little, and that’s why he was sidestepping it with a joke. But guess what? I like to wave at the relationship no-no stop signs as I’m speeding by them. “Okay, first question: why did you get divorced?”
Jake’s eyebrows raise, and he swivels his face to give me a disbelieving stare. “Wow. You didn’t waste any time with that one.”
“I like to live on the dangerous side.”
Jake takes in a full breath and lets it out. “Can I just take off my clothes and jump in the pool instead?”
Not picturing that. Not picturing that. Not picturing that. Shoot. I pictured it. And YEP. I’m debating letting him do it now. “No. You’ve gotta answer.”
He winces and then settles back against the swing, busying himself while he talks by rubbing his hand up and down my leg. Not distracting at all. “All right, here it is. I didn’t really date in high school. I was more focused on my grades and sports than girls. My mom likes to say it was because I was a really great kid—but actually, it was because we didn’t have any hot girls in my grade.”
I laugh and give him ten points for honesty.
“When I graduated and started college, I met this really forward girl. She was”—Jake takes on a distant look that kinda makes me feel jealous, but I decide to chill—“physically attractive and had a sort of larger-than-life attitude. She drew me in with her beauty and charm, and I fell for her fast and hard. I proposed after only a month of dating, and she said yes. We set the wedding date for six months after I proposed, and she was already two months pregnant with Sam on our wedding day.”
“Whoa,” I say with an awkward smile. I think I was secretly hoping for one of those divorce stories where he realized instantly that she wasn’t the right woman for him, and he’s been miserable for the last nine years. Yeah, I know, that was kind of gross of me to think. But I never claimed to be a saint.
“Yeah. It was intense. And honestly, those first few years were great. We were so wrapped up in each other and our newlywed bliss that it felt like nothing could stop us. I graduated from college, and Natalie, Sam, and I moved to Texas so I could work at a big-box architecture firm. Natalie decided to drop out of school right after she had Sam, so she never finished her teaching degree. After about five years of marriage, things started to get really rocky. I decided that I wanted to branch out and open my own firm—and also that I missed my family and wanted to be closer to them.
“We moved here to Charleston, and money was really tight for the first two years of getting my firm off the ground. Natalie grew restless, so she started spending more and more time at the gym. She became a Pilates instructor, and then it was like, before I knew it, we were never seeing each other anymore. Natalie would still spend time with Sam, but not much. I felt guilty, thinking that maybe Natalie was so restless because she gave up her dreams to stay home with Sam while I went after mine, so I started taking over the brunt of the parenting responsibilities.
“Things just got worse, and she became more and more distant. She completely changed her appearance and lost like thirty pounds. It was like she was always chasing a happiness that I couldn’t give her. Finally, last year, she told me that she met someone else who could give her the life I couldn’t.” He laughs a mirthless laugh. “He was a pilot.” Jake finally looks at me. “Turns out, it’s not just me who can’t give her the life she wants. She’s had three serious relationships in the past year.”
“Wow. Jake. I’m so sorry. That sounds…terrible. You and Sam deserve better than that.”
He shrugs. “Sam does, for sure.”
I take his hand in mine. “You do, too.”
“I wasn’t perfect, Evie. No failed marriage is the result of one person.”
I know he’s right. But I also know Jake, and I’m sure that he’s done nothing but beat himself up for his mistakes this past year and replayed a thousand different scenarios where he could have done better. I think right now he just needs someone on his side that can scoop him up off the ground, dust him off, and say try again.
But then again, maybe that’s just me being selfish, because I really want Jake to try again…with me.
It breaks my heart to see how sad Jake looks right now, so I decide to lighten the mood. “Yeah. You’re right. I think if you would have just sacrificed a little and gotten butt implants or something for her, it would have solved your problems.”
Jake barks out a laugh and shakes his head at me. “You and butts.”
I don’t know how this has become my thing, but now I’m 100% certain that if Jake and I make this work, he’s going to buy me a mug for Christmas that says I like big butts and I cannot lie. I’ll worry about that bridge when I have to cross it.
“So,” he says, giving me a vulnerable smile that melts me a little. “Now that you know all the baggage I’m carrying, do you still want to date me?”
I feign a look of contemplation for a second before my eyes shift to him, and I lean in slowly to place a soft kiss on his mouth. I hear him take in a breath through his nose, and his hand lands on my jaw. But then, before things get too interesting, he groans and breaks the seal of our lips. He’s smiling and shaking his head. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not going to distract me out of my turn.”
“Shoot. I thought that was going to work.” I lean my shoulder against the swing. “Fine. Do your worst.”
“Tell me about your relationship with your parents.” Ouch. So this is how it feels when someone goes right for the kill.
I scrunch my nose and try to decide where to start. Fifth-grade talent show, when my mama scolded me all the way home for missing the high note and coming in third? Nah. Instead, I tell Jake what it was like growing up in a house with parents who only care about money and status. I told him how the only time my mama ever showed me any affection was when we were in public and a woman that appeared to have better domestic skills was watching. “And now, they are trying to freeze me out. If I’m poor enough and hungry enough, they think I’ll come to my senses and marry Tyler. But the joke is on them, because I know how to make a pack of Ramen noodles last a whole week.”
“Which reminds me, I grilled an extra steak for you to take home.” He just keeps getting better.
“Careful. I’m like a stray cat. If you feed me, I might keep coming back.”