The Match: An EXTENDED edition rom-com from the author of the TikTok sensation THE CHEAT SHEET! (It

Chapter 10

I sling my purse over my shoulder and gather Charlie’s leash. It’s been a long day of training at Sam’s house, and she’s done amazing. She’s picked up the techniques so quickly that I’m considering asking her to drop out of elementary school and come work for me as a trainer.

Sam approaches me slowly as I gather my things, her bare toes scuffing the plush rug. She’s after something. She glances toward the kitchen where Jacob disappeared a moment ago and then back to me.

“Spill it,” I tell her when she works up the nerve to meet my eyes.

She smiles—something she’s started doing more and more over the past two days—and asks, “Do you think . . . well . . . there’s this birthday slumber party at one of my friends’ house coming up . . .”

“Mm-hmm,” I say, setting my purse down and giving Sam my full attention. “Go on.”

“Do you think Daisy will be ready by then to go with me . . . you know . . . if I can convince my dad?”

“I don’t see why not. I think you and Daisy are bonding quickly.” And that’s the truth. I’ve been impressed with how attentive Daisy has been to Sam. Anytime Sam simulates a seizure, Daisy has snapped into action immediately, rolling Sam onto her side and going to alert Jacob before returning to Sam’s side and licking her face until the “seizure” subsides.

“Oh, great.” Sam doesn’t look relieved, though. This conversation wasn’t really about asking if Daisy will be ready or not.

“Are you sure that’s all you wanted to talk about?”

“No.” Sam gives me a crooked grin that has seriously started to melt my heart.

I learned yesterday morning when I asked Jacob in private if Sam’s mom could come around sometime during the next week to get acclimated with Daisy that she apparently left a couple years ago. The way he made it sound, and how rigid his shoulders went while saying it, I got the impression that his ex-wife is gone and there’s little chance of her coming back. Of course I wanted to ask a million questions, but I didn’t feel that it would be welcome, so I just quickly moved on to another topic (but spent the rest of the day obsessing over what kind of a woman would leave this sweet girl behind).

“Actually, I was kind of hoping that maybe you could talk to my dad about the slumber party for me. He doesn’t think it would be safe for me to go, but since you have epilepsy and live on your own with Charlie, you could convince him that I would be fine, and he would listen to you.”

Ha! Listen to me?I think I’m the last person in the world that Jacob Broaden wants to listen to. It’s clear as day that the man is only tolerating my presence because of Daisy. He doesn’t meet my eye when he’s in the same room as me. He goes through ridiculous feats to stand as far away from me as possible and only responds to me in one-word answers.

I have no idea what I did to make this man not like me so quickly, but I wish I knew, because then I could bottle it and spray it all over myself before I go to the grocery store. Maybe then it would keep all those weirdos from hitting on me. Why can’t the normal ones ever hit on me? You better believe that if a man is talking to me in a grocery store, he smells like body odor and Funyuns and is advising me on which foods will “enhance my hourglass figure.” True story.

“I don’t know, Sam.” I look down at Charlie, and his eyes say it all. Bad idea. Do not engage. Set down gently and walk away. He’s so smart.

Sam, however, does the dirtiest, meanest trick in the book. She reaches out and grabs my hand with big ol’ Bambi eyes. The little terrorist. “Please, Evie. You’re my only hope. I’ve tried, but he won’t listen to me. I really want to go to this party. Everyone is going to be there, and I really miss my friends.”

So, this is what it feels like to have your heartstrings tugged like a puppet.

Charlie whispers for me to stand firm.

“All right.” Sorry, Charlie, I never stood a chance. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Really? Thanks!” Her eyes light up, and you’d think I just told her she could eat ice cream every single meal for the rest of her life. But then I realize how badly I’ve been played when she starts pushing me toward the kitchen, where Jacob has been banging pots and pans around for the past ten minutes.

“Sam, no, not right now!” I dig my feet into the rug, but this little girl must be freaking Superwoman, because I’m no match for her. Suddenly, I’m being tossed into the kitchen, and I stumble forward as if I’ve just been shoved into battle.

Even better, Jacob saw the whole thing. The whole entire thing. My cheeks turn red under his blue gaze, and I consider doing a spin move around Sam and dashing out of the house. Screw the Bambi eyes; I’m not falling for her rotten tricks again.

But like every masterful con artist, she continues to hold the upper hand. “Hey, Dad! Evie wants to ask you something.”

I thought we were friends, Sam!

His brows sink low, and he crosses his arms. I know, without a doubt, that if I were to ask him if Sam can go to a slumber party right now, he would take me by the shoulders and shove me right out of his lovely house. I’m pretty sure that he’d also tell me just where I can stick my advice.

I can’t do that to Sam. I can’t just sabotage her chances like that. So instead, I’m Katniss Everdeen. I volunteer as tribute.

“Actually, I was hoping that maybe I could invite myself to stay for dinner.” And I was also hoping that a sinkhole could magically appear and swallow me up. “I’m . . . running low on food”—oh gosh, make it stop—“and since training went a little late today, I’ll miss dinner if I have to go all the way to the store.”

The only way I can describe how Jacob looks right now is thunderous. “Mm-hmm,” he grunts through pursed lips, and I want to grab the frying pan off the stove and bang it against his head until he learns to be nice. How dare he make me feel terrible for inviting myself! Have you no southern manners?!

I backpedal as fast as I can. “Never mind!” I laugh, and it sounds shrill. “I just remembered I have a can of soup at home.” Lie. I have a half-eaten pouch of Sour Patch Kids and an expired jug of milk in the fridge. “You guys have a good night! See you tomorrow!”

I whirl around and make a beeline for the door, grabbing Charlie’s and Daisy’s leashes in the process. Only problem is, I went the long way—out of the kitchen and through the living room toward the front door—and just as I’m about to make it to the entryway, I run smack into a hard wall. Not actually a wall.

A Jacob wall.

He took the shorter way and cut me off.

“Oof,” I grunt when my head comes in contact with his right pectoral muscle, and let me tell you, that man must work out every day, because I’m fairly certain I have a concussion now.

He grabs my shoulders to steady me, and when our eyes meet, he takes a big step back. Do I need to change to a stronger deodorant or something?

“Evie, stay for dinner,” says Jacob, but his tone reads: stay at your own risk.

“No, thanks. By your reaction back there, it’s apparent that my company would be nothing short of torture. So, I’ll just be on my way.” I try to go past him, but his hand catches my biceps before I can pass. His touch makes my stomach dip and my nerves sizzle like a drop of water on a frying pan.

His hold is tight at first, but when I freeze and look down at how his hand is wrapped completely around my arm, he loosens his grip.

Jacob lets out a long breath from his nose. “Please stay. I want you to stay.” This man is nothing short of a mystery.

I’m plucking petals off a daisy. He loves me, he hates me, he loves me, he hates me.

Which petal will we end on?

I look up to Jacob and force a smile that I don’t feel. I’m ready to give him a very polite “over my dead body” when I see the smoldering look in his eyes. He’s serious. I don’t know how I know that, but somehow I know that he really does want me to stay for dinner.

Because I’m not generally a masochist, my feet should be carrying me far away from this fickle mister as fast as humanly possible. But instead, my arm is burning wonderfully where he’s lightly holding it, and I begin dreaming of that porch swing again. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

He smiles. Actually smiles. There are crinkles beside his eyes! “Okay, good.”

We stand like that for a minute, and I’m not entirely sure what’s happening or how to breathe anymore. Charlie must sense my heightened heart rate and think that Jacob is upsetting me, because he suddenly angles his furry golden body between us and looks up at Jacob with the most human look I’ve ever seen him give. Hands off my lady.

Jacob and I both chuckle at my little chaperone, and he releases me. I miss his touch right away.

Jacob turns on his heel and disappears back into the kitchen, and I’m left wondering what in the hell just happened.

I turn around and am bending down to unclip Charlie’s and Daisy’s leashes when I catch Sam’s face across the room. She’s leaning her hip against the side of an armchair, and her arms are folded, a smug grin on her face. I pull my eyebrows together in question, and as a response she waggles hers.

Oh no. What have I done?