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

Chapter 15

“So, she’s really mine now?” asks Sam.

“She’s really yours.”

“Like she gets to sleep with me from now on?”

“Yep.”

Sam smiles and lets her toes skim across the pool water again. She’s only dipping her toes in because she’s wearing little-girl skinny jeans and could only roll them up to the ankles. I’m wearing my favorite yellow cotton dress, so I’m able to dip my legs in from the knee down.

The water feels like a bath, and the setting sun is warm on my skin. Charlie is lying down on the side of the pool to my left, and Daisy is lying down on Sam’s right. Other than our different hair colors, we look like a mirrored reflection of each other.

I feel a tether to Sam that I can’t explain, and I wonder if it’s because I see her as a younger version of myself. We sit quietly together by the pool while Jake is inside putting out a few fires with a contractor over the phone. I glance over my shoulder and catch a glimpse of him standing at the window, phone pressed to his ear, but his eyes glued to Sam and me. His brows are pulled together, but he doesn’t look angry—just thoughtful. My skin grows hot knowing Jake is watching me.

All I want to do is obsessively think about what took place this morning in his living room with Jo. Does he really want to go as my date to the benefit? Was it a pity offer? I want to murder Jo for asking him like she did—or kiss her, I can’t decide. But when I get home and give my brain the free rein it wants to turn that conversation over and over and dissect it like a mad scientist, I’ll know for sure.

“Soooo, my dad says I can go to the slumber party.”

“I know! That’s so great. Are you excited?”

Sam kicks some water. “Kind of.”

I look down at her. “Just kind of? I thought you’d be super happy he gave you permission.”

“I am.” Except, she’s not.

I bump her little shoulder with mine. “Tell me what’s up.”

She breathes in and out for a minute and then finally lets the truth out. “I’m kinda scared. I know I put up a big fight about wanting to go . . . but now that I can . . . I’m scared I’ll have a seizure while I’m there.”

I understand that, and unfortunately, the chances are pretty high that she will. Stress and sleep deprivation are triggers for a lot of people. “You might. But if you do, Daisy will be there to take care of you.”

And I have no doubt that Daisy will. I’ve been working with them all week, and what I’ve seen leaves me with nothing but confidence.

Sam turns her face away from me to pet Daisy. “It’s not that I’m afraid of the seizure. I’m . . . I’m afraid of what the other girls will think of me if they see me have one.”

Unfortunately, this is the one thing regarding disabilities that service dogs cannot protect us from—other humans. People can be cruel, especially kids, so I understand Sam’s worry.

“I wish I could tell you that everyone will always understand your seizures—but they won’t. You can’t control other people, but you can control who you surround yourself with. So, if you think that these girls will be mean to you if you have a seizure, don’t go—they’re not worth your friendship.”

“Have you ever had anyone be mean to you after seeing one of your episodes?”

I don’t like this question. It fills my mind with uncomfortable memories that I would rather never think of again. Ones I’ve buried six feet under the ground and promised never to revisit. Looks like I’m grabbing a shovel.

“Unfortunately . . . yes.” I had a seizure during English class my junior year of high school. I am one of the lucky few who convulse during an episode (sarcasm intended). Let me tell you, the jocks of the school loved that. They spent the rest of the school year reenacting my seizures every time they passed me in the hallway, but they must have been very into drama since they made sure to take their reenactments way over the top.

And you know what? As it turns out, I don’t think Sam needs to hear this whole story. It probably wouldn’t make her feel much better. So, I keep it to myself but decide that, one day, if I feel she needs to hear it, I’ll tell her.

Wait a second.

Why in the world am I picturing myself in Sam’s life as she’s growing up?

“I had some not-so-nice people say some not-so-nice things about me when I was young. But you know what . . .” I look down at Sam and brush her hair behind her ear. “I survived. It hurt at the time, but now I’m a strong woman who lives with a very scary medical condition, and I have every right to feel proud of myself for that. And you do too. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel bad about who you are or scared to live your life. You’re more than your seizures. And I’ll be happy to remind you of that anytime you doubt it.”

Sam smiles and then surprises me by leaning into me and wrapping me up in her darling little arms. “Thanks, Evie. I’m glad I emailed you that day . . . even if I did lose my iPad for a week.”

I laugh. “Me too, darlin’.”

A few minutes later, I hear the sliding door open, and Jake steps out wearing a pair of aviators in a way that would make Tom Cruise envious. “What are you two ladies doing out here?”

“Just enjoying your incredible pool,” I say, holding my hand above my eyes to shade them from the sun. I should have put my hand in front of my eyes to shade them from Jake. I can’t handle how good he looks drenched in the orange sunset. He’s already tan, but the warm glow only adds to it, licking at his muscular forearms and making the man look downright illegal.

“I’m glad someone’s enjoying it,” he says, coming to sit down on the other side of Charlie.

“Yeah, we never use it,” says Sam, a sad tone touching her voice.

“Never?” I’m shocked. What kind of crazy person would have a pool this glorious and never use it?

“Between work, and school, and doctors’ appointments, we just don’t have the time.”

“Then make time!” He should be put in jail for owning a pool that could be featured on a design show and not finding time to use it.

He chuckles and shakes his head a little. “It’s not that easy.”

“It really is, though.”

He’s trying to sell me adulting, and I’m not buying it. The real problem has been hovering in Jake’s and Sam’s eyes all week. They haven’t picked up the pieces of their life yet. They got hit with some tough stuff and haven’t decided to move forward. I’m about to slingshot their butts into moving on.

“Life isn’t worth it if you can’t play a little. You’ve gotta steal fun when you can,” I say as I stand up.

Jake looks up at me with a crooked smile. “Like when? What do you suggest when every day is booked solid and I can barely find time to tie my shoes?”

“Get some slip-ons.” I flash him a haughty grin. “And allow me to point out that you’re not busy right this minute.”

His smile falters ever so slightly. “I don’t have my swim trunks on.”

Oh, silly little practical Jake. As you’re about to find out, I don’t give one hill of beans if your trunks are on or not.

I smile wickedly, and then, before he has time to process the evil about to befall him, I give him a solid shove from behind and dump his practical butt in the pool.

He comes up out of the water like a cologne ad that never made it to live television because it was too sensual. His navy shirt is clinging to his chiseled body, and his hair is dripping wet before he dashes his hand through it, sending glistening water droplets through the air—and basically, I’ve never been prouder of a decision in my entire life.

Sam has dissolved into a fit of laughter beside me, and I’m pretty sure that Charlie just called Jake a ding-dong under his breath. (Obviously, he likes Jake, but I think he’s a tad bit jealous of our new friendship. He can go cry to Rachel Green.)

“Laugh it up, chuckles,” Jake says with a heart-melting smile. “You’re next.”

I see what he’s doing. He’s inching toward the edge of the pool with a smirk that says I’m coming for you. Jake is so certain that I’m going to scream and run away like the girl who just got her hair done and would rather die than ruin her blowout. He doesn’t know me very well yet, and my hair appointment is so overdue I think my hairstylist has given up on me completely.

I live by a very simple rule: if a sexy man is in a pool and smiling at me like Jake is now, I don’t waste a single moment standing on the side.

Before he has a chance to make it to the stairs, I take off running and cannonball in right beside him.