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

Chapter 26

It’s 9:30 and Jake and I have moved outside to swing on his porch. The night is warm, and the stars are bright against the black backdrop of the sky. We leave the porch lights off and decide to swing with the moon as our only light. It’s romantic and quiet and still.

When we sit down on the swing, Jake reaches over and pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I’ve learned that he’s an affectionate man, and I still can’t believe I get to know that about him. I also like his deodorant. I briefly wonder if I could get away with using some before I leave without him noticing. That’s creepy, right? I might do it anyway.

Jake picks up his phone again and checks the screen. He’s had that thing glued to him all night, and if I didn’t know the real reason he was checking it so much, I’d be worried he was waiting for a better offer to come along from someone else. But I don’t say anything about it because I know that he’s just worried about Sam.

It strikes me how different this first date is from all the others I’ve been on. Not only have we already made out in the kitchen and discussed my menstrual cycle, but usually on a first date I would maybe be holding his hand with about twelve inches still neatly placed between the sides of our thighs. I’d be very hesitant to show any real part of myself to him because I don’t do that until I think someone’s worthy of that honesty. But as it is, Jake has me tucked in so close to his side that I’m pretty much sitting on his lap, and I’d be willing to tell him my deepest, darkest secrets if he asked.

I feel like a little bunny rabbit as I nestle closer to his absurdly defined obliques and sigh with contentment inside my burrow.

“Sam’s going to be just fine,” I say when I catch him checking his phone again.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“No. I’m lying. If you weren’t here to tether me to this porch swing, I’d probably already be in my truck, halfway to Jenna’s house to get her back.”

I reach across him and lace my fingers with his. His hands are calloused and warm. “Just say the word and I’ll handcuff you to this swing.”

He looks down at me with a big fat smirk. “Oh really? So, now I know you’re a butt girl and a little kinky.”

I poke him hard in the side, and he laughs. “You wish.”

How is it so easy with him? It’s not supposed to feel like this. We’re supposed to be awkward and uncomfortable, and I’m due my usual SOS text to Jo where she’ll then call and say my house is on fire and I need to come put it out. But I don’t feel like sending that text this time.

Instead, I’m rubbing my thumb across the back of Jake’s knuckles and wondering if he’d be scared if I asked to go ahead and move in. Truth is, I’m falling head over heels for this man, and it’s scaring me to death. He wants to go slow. And I want to punch the gas. I feel safe with Jake, and the sensation is entirely new for me.

But I’ve watched enough movies and dated enough jerks to know that something is probably waiting around the corner to jump out and bite me. Maybe I don’t have to take a turn at all, though. No corners. No dark hallways. And I definitely don’t have to walk through any creepy doors that would have the audience yelling, Don’t go in there, you ding-dong!

I straighten a little and pull my knees up on the swing to be more eye level with Jake. “Let’s play a game to distract you from worrying about Sam.”

He picks up my legs and drapes them over his lap. “What sort of game?” His blue eyes are sparkling, and my whole body flushes. I can see his mind working, and it’s not fair. These mixed signals are torture. We’re playing tug-of-war between fast and slow, but I can’t keep up with who’s tugging for which end. What happens if we both give up?

Chills race along my arms, and I dust them off with my hands.

“It’s called the honesty game.”

“So, truth or dare?” Would he quit talking like that? In that deep, sexy, husky tone that’s dripping with innuendos?

“No.” I tug on the slow side of the rope. “Just the truth game. It goes like this: one of us asks a question, and the other answers truthfully.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Yeah. So, just basically talking, then? I don’t think you can call it a game if one of us isn’t daring the other to take off their clothes and jump in the pool if we don’t want to answer the question.”

I gasp and give him a big poke in the side again. “You wouldn’t! I thought you were a gentleman.”

He chuckles and grips my legs as he squirms away from my tickling pokes. “No, you said I was a gentleman, but I never confirmed it. I would definitely enjoy daring you to skinny dip.”

“But you did say you wanted to take this whole thing slow.”

“Want? No. Will? Yes.” Why am I let down by that? I want to smack myself with a ruler. Behave, Evie.

Except now Jake is massaging my feet and I am putty in his hands. In fact, I’d really like for those hands to climb higher over my legs. For him to take me up to his room. To forget brakes even exist, because if he’s this good at a foot massage imagine all the possibilities! I think I’m half in love with him already.

“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. “First question: Why did you get divorced?”

He chokes on a laugh. “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 I didn’t think any of the girls in my grade were hot.”

I laugh and give him ten points for honesty.

“When I graduated and started college, I met this really vibrant woman. She was”—Jake takes on a distant look that wrenches jealousy from my heart, but I decide to chill—“very pretty and had a sort of larger-than-life attitude. She was so charming and fun, and I fell for her fast and hard. I proposed after only a month of dating, and she said yes. I really thought it was love at first sight, but I’ve since learned that it was more attraction at first sight and I was too inexperienced to understand the difference. 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.” My smile is heavy. “That’s a lot of change to go through in college.”

“Yeah. It was intense. But somehow we made those first few years work. Even had some great moments. We had that newlywed bliss phase where it felt like nothing could stop us. And then 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 business 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 came back 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 and with new friends. One of those friends introduced her to an improv club, and that’s when I learned she had apparently wanted to be an actress her whole life and had put aside the dream to have Sam. That was news to me, and before I knew it, we were never seeing each other anymore. Natalie would still spend time with Sam, but not much. She was always gone and doing things with friends—and later I learned that it wasn’t so much a friend as someone she was cheating on me with.

“Before I realized that, though, I felt guilty, thinking that maybe Natalie was so restless because she gave up her dreams to stay home with our daughter 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. . . . It was like she had mentally made her decision but was still living with us anyway. Finally, two years ago, she told me that she’d met someone else who could give her the life I couldn’t, and she was moving to Hollywood with him to go after her acting career.” Jake finally looks at me. “But it turns out, I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t give her the life she wants. She’s had three serious relationships since our divorce.” He puts bunny ears around the word serious.

“Jake. I’m so sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. I imagine there’s no words that can fully soothe the ache of someone you loved leaving you. “You and Sam deserve better than that.”

He shrugs. “Sam does, for sure.”

I take his hand in mine. “You do too.”

His hand is tense, his body radiating discomfort. “I’m not so sure, Evie. I wasn’t perfect. Sometimes I wonder if I had hit the brakes early on with her, taken it slow and given her time to become who she wanted to be, maybe things would have been different.” I’m beginning to see why he’s so adamant we don’t rush things. “As much as I hate her for her choices sometimes . . . I understand her need to be happy away from me. To have her own life. But I’ll never understand her choice to exclude Sam from her life too. I mean, she makes money and has a great apartment in California that she’s never once invited Sam to.”

I can’t understand it either. Sam isn’t even my daughter—technically isn’t anything to me besides a sweet little girl I helped match with one of my dogs, as well as the daughter of the man I’m sorta-kinda dating. But already she’s carved out a special corner of my heart. If I have to say goodbye to this family in the future, it’s going to hurt like hell.

“Like you said . . . it’s one thing for Natalie to realize her path needed to move away from you. But there’s no excuse for abandoning her daughter, especially during one of the most difficult times in Sam’s life. And I know you want to beat yourself up a thousand different ways for how you could have been better to Natalie—and maybe you really could have done more to support her early on—”

“Don’t pull your punches.”

I smile. “But I’m trying to say, I’ve seen what kind of man you are, and you’re the kind that learns from your past and improves for your future. You always make things right. That’s such a special quality, Jake.”

There’s a lot more I’d like to say—but right now I get the feeling he just needs someone on his side who 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.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, and it breaks my heart to see the heaviness he carries on his shoulders. So, of course I need to say something to try to lighten it just a little. “But you know what, at the end of the day, even if everything around you is crumbling . . . at least you can know you have a great butt.”

Jake barks out a laugh and shakes his head at me. “You and butts.”

“Yours is especially bubbly. How did you get it that way? Tell me now, are they implants? I won’t think less of you.”

He gives me a wry grin. “I’ll never tell, Butt Girl.”

“Oof. That’s not going to be my nickname.”

I’m now one hundred percent 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.

“Yeah, I heard how it sounded after it came out.” His playful smile dips into one more vulnerable. “So, 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. “I’m in,” I say, and then I lean in slowly to place a soft kiss on his mouth. I hear him take in a breath, 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 mom 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 tell him how the only time my mom ever showed me any affection was when we were in public and a woman who 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.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” He smiles, and my stomach turns inside out.

“Anyway, I just decided that if I’m never going to be good enough for them, I might as well have them be disappointed in me for doing something I love rather than living a life that makes me feel like crap.”

He reaches up and runs his hand through my hair. The look on his face says he’s wanted to do that all night—maybe even since he met me. “Evie, you’re an incredible woman. I’m sorry your parents don’t recognize that.”

I’m not good with compliments. It’s either because I’m not used to hearing them or because I’ve heard so much criticism over the course of my life that I can’t believe the good things people tell me, but either way, I want to throw my hands up and bat away those compliments like I’m Babe Ruth.

“Eh. I’m messy, and forgetful, and I don’t like greens.”

Jake’s eyes grow serious, and I’m sure he’s about to convince me of all the reasons he thinks I’m wonderful, so I stand abruptly and smooth out my dress. “It’s getting late. I better call an Uber. Charlie’s getting antsy.”

Jake lifts his brows and glances around me. I follow his gaze to my traitorous dog, who’s curled up in a comfy little ball by the porch railing. “You’re right. He looks super anxious.”

“Yep. This is how he manifests anxiety. He looks chill, but believe me, inside, he’s fit to be tied.”

Now run, Evie.

Jake grabs my hand and pulls me to a stop. “Why are you getting squirmy again?” He stands up and invades my space.

“I’m not,” I lie. I’m squirming because Jake is the first man in a long time that I’ve wanted to look into my eyes and convince me that I mean something to him. I really can feel myself falling for him, and falling in love with someone on a first date is definitely not slow material.

“Stay with me tonight,” he says quietly. Well, that’s definitely not going to help anything either. “Not for sex. I just mean, stay here tonight. We can stay up all night talking, or watching a movie, or whatever. I just . . . I won’t get many chances like this to spend time with you without Sam, and I want to take advantage of every minute I get.”

I should go home. I should not stay.

Ohhhhh,but I want to stay. Staying sounds like a dream. And Charlie does look awfully comfortable. What kind of a heartless person would I be to wake my sleeping pup when he looks that comfy?

Jake squeezes my hand, willing me to agree. I’m opening my mouth to do just that when our attention is distracted by the sudden buzzing of his phone.

He lets go of my hand and darts to his phone. Noticing the number, his eyes flash worry at mine. “It’s Jenna’s parents.”

“Answer it!”

He puts the phone to his ear, and I can see the worry and dread filling his face. “Will. Is everything okay?” He listens for a minute, giving away no hints of what Will is saying. I wish I had asked him to put it on speaker. Is Sam okay? Did she have a seizure?

There is a silent panic I’ve never felt before welling up in my heart.

Jake mumbles a few mm-hmms and then says, “I’ll be right over.” He hangs up, and his shoulders relax. “She’s fine. She didn’t have a seizure, but she wants to come home.”

I sigh, feeling deep relief. What is this feeling? I’m worried about how my heart seems to be tying itself to not only Jake but also his daughter. “Whew. That’s good.”

He gives me an apologetic smile, and I already know what he’s going to say, so I hold up my hand. “Don’t apologize. I was going to decline your offer to stay anyway.”

He gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe me one bit. “Yeah, okay.”

“I was! Jacob Broaden, I am a southern woman of great moral principle. If you think I can be easily seduced by your pretty blue eyes, you’ll be . . . exactly right. I was absolutely going to stay.”

He laughs and wraps an arm around me, pulling me close to him. “Come with me to get Sam. I can drop you off at your apartment after.”

“You sure?”

He smiles and nods slowly before releasing me. He helps me gather all my things, and Charlie, and the extra food bag that looks suspiciously less like “an extra steak” and a lot more like a full bag of groceries. I should turn him down, but . . . I don’t want to. I think I even see the box of tampons I opened earlier on the top, and I smile to myself.