The Winning Ticket (Circle of Friends #1)

13. Wash Your Mouth, Woman

JAKE

13

Little B

Are you sure about me taking the master bedroom?

Jake

Yeah, go for it. It doesn’t make sense for me to have it when I’m barely there.

Little B

OK… as long as you’re sure? Thanks, JJ.

Jake

Anytime, Little B.

Two weeks after Bri moves in, I let myself into the apartment and am immediately set upon by a wild beast.

Or, more accurately, a small ball of white fluff.

Maddie is dancing around my feet, and I try not to trip over her. With my guitar strapped across my back, my hands are full with my overnight bag and some groceries.

“Hey, fluff ball. Give me a sec,” I say, dumping the groceries on the kitchen bench.

I wouldn’t have known Bri lived here if I hadn’t seen the text messages confirming that she’d moved in. The place looks so clean and tidy - it’s as picture-perfect as the first day I arrived.

Maddie starts scratching at my leg while I look around, and I reach down to pick her up. I carry her under my arm while I walk into my new bedroom and put my bag on the bed. Putting the dog down, I pull my guitar strap over my head and lay it down gently next to the bag.

“Bri? Are you home?” I call out, going in search of the fluff ball’s mother.

“Hey! I’m out here,” she calls back, and I follow the sound of her voice out to the terrace.

I find her lying on a sun lounger under the shade of one of the large umbrellas in her bikini, a book open on her stomach. Resisting the urge to run my eyes over her, I avert my eyes and look around at the changes she’s made here.

While the inside has remained spotless and untouched, we now seem to have acquired quite a few plants scattered around the terrace. It looks great, and I’m relieved she has at least put her personal touch on something.

“Hey. I see you’ve settled in,” I say.

“Yeah, I hope that’s okay?” she asks, looking worried.

My eyes drop to her hands, where she’s started picking at her nails once again. I resist the urge to reach over and stop her.

“Of course it’s okay, Bri. This is your home. I’m the one who just drops by now and again. I’m not going to be coming in and doing inspections or any of that shit, so please, just relax, okay?” I sit on the lounger beside hers and scratch behind Maddie’s ears.

“She likes you,” Bri says, smiling at the little dog, who is looking up at me with big brown eyes.

I swear she has an actual grin on her fluffy little face.

“Of course she does. I’m awesome,” I reply, flashing Bri a cheeky grin.

She directs her beautiful smile my way. “So, what’s the plan for the weekend?”

I shrug. “I’ve got a few things to do for Mum, and I was going to see if you were okay with having the others over for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Of course. I just assume when you’re around, they’ll be around too.”

“Ha, that makes it sound like we’re all attached at the hip.”

“Well, since I’ve been home, every time I’ve seen you, I’ve seen them, so…” She shrugs, flashing a cheeky grin.

I’m relieved that the longer we’ve been talking, the more at ease she seems, and she’s stopped picking her nails.

“Well, I’m here now, and what do you know, not one of them in sight,” I say, and even to my own ears, my voice sounds weirdly rough.

Something flashes behind her eyes, and I realise how suggestive that may have sounded.

She holds my gaze for longer than I expect, her blue eyes pulling me in, and a not-so-small part of me wonders what would happen if I kissed her right now.

I clear my throat and stand again. “I was going to make some dinner. Do you want some?”

“Whatchya gonna make me?” She’s still smiling.

I like that her playful side is coming out. I’d been worried this situation might be awkward, but she seems completely at ease.

“Carbonara.”

She raises her eyebrows. “From a jar?”

“Wash your mouth, woman. My Nonna would skin me alive if she heard you even suggest that her precious Jakey would make Carbonara from a jar!”

“You can cook?” She sounds so surprised that I’m almost offended.

“Yes, I can cook. Did you think I just survived off takeaway?”

“Honestly… maybe?” She at least looks apologetic when she says it.

I shake my head. “Oh ye of little faith, Little B. I have been cooking since I was a kid with Nonna and Mum.” I head inside, and she follows behind a few moments later, heading into her room but leaving the door open.

“I'll let you know when it’s ready,” I say loudly as I unload the groceries.

“Are you kidding? I want to watch the cooking show,” she says.

I look up to see her settling herself on a stool on the other side of the bench. I momentarily wonder at my slight disappointment when I notice she’s thrown a dress over her bikini.

“Looking for tips, are you?”

“You’ve talked a big game, JJ. I need to see the master at work.”

“Be prepared to be amazed, Little B.”

Half an hour later, Bri is inhaling her dinner and making all the right sounds that prove I can, in fact, cook.

“Holy shit, Jake. This is amazing. It’s like eating at an Italian restaurant.” Her eyes are closed while she breathes in deeply, and I can’t help but stare at her.

She opens her eyes and smiles at me.

My heart skips a little, and I look down at my plate. “No, it’s like eating a traditional Italian meal cooked by an Italian.”

“You’re really leaning into those Italian roots tonight, aren’t you?”

I look up and wink at her, smiling when I notice the sauce on her chin. Without thinking, I reach over and wipe it away with my thumb, and her eyes widen slightly.

“Sorry, I probably could have just told you that was there,” I say, surprised at my actions.

She studies me for a moment. “All good. I know you’re just looking out for me.” Her voice has taken on that slightly husky tone, and her eyes dart to my lips before returning to meet my gaze again.

“Yep, gotta keep you from getting food all over your face.”

We continue eating, and once we’re done, Bri gets up and starts clearing the dishes away.

“You don’t need to clean up,” I protest, pulling my plate out of her reach, but she bats my hand away.

“The cook does not clean in this house. Now, get out of the kitchen.” She shoos me away, and I go into my new room.

When Bri agreed to move in, I’d asked Chris to pack up the things I’d left and put them in the second biggest room, so I busy myself getting it all sorted.

An hour later, I find her sitting on the couch in her pyjamas, her nose buried in her book again. The apartment is spotless once more, and I notice that the groceries I left on the bench have disappeared.

“Whatcha reading?” I ask as I flop down beside her and start scrolling through my phone.

“Um… a romance book.” She looks a little sheepish when I look over, and I catch a glimpse of the bare male torso on the cover before she can hide it from me.

I snort a little. “I have no idea why, but I didn’t picture you as a reader of those types of books.”

She arches an eyebrow at me over the top of her glasses. I haven’t noticed her wearing them before, and I doubt she realises just how hot she looks in them. Well, she always looks hot, but the glasses definitely do something to my insides right now.

“And what kind of books would those be, Jake?”

I ignore the warning in her tone, knowing how easy it is to wind her up. “You know, porn for women.”

“Jake Boyd! How dare you. I’ll have you know, there is more to them than that.” She digs her toe into my thigh, and I clamp my hand over her foot while I laugh.

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Well, I’m just getting up to the part where she’s recovering from the traumatic break-up with her asshole ex, and the love interest is telling her how she could do so much better than him.” Her face drops a little, and I tighten my grip on her foot, squeezing it gently.

I watch her closely for a minute while a range of emotions flit across her face. “He’s right, you know,” I say quietly.

“Who?”

“The love interest. She can definitely do better than the asshole ex.”

A small smile appears, but there is still a little sadness there. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Not sure anyone deserves an asshole ex,” she mumbles.

“No, they really don’t. Some guys are just trash, Bri.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, and I tilt my head back to rest it on the back of the couch. I listen to her music, playing quietly on the stereo while she continues reading. It’s a mix of artists, and I love the chill vibe it gives off. I’d forgotten that one of our shared interests at school was our similar musical taste.

As I drift off to sleep, I can’t help but notice how comfortable this feels.

How right it feels.