Chapter Three
THREE
Rocky
I drive into an old historic cemetery and park in the back where fog hangs over mossy headstones. It’s quiet and only filled with the dead. Then I switch to video.
Jake comes into the frame. Just his too-fluffy, light brown hair and uptight face. I think a bucket of golf balls is on a shelf beside his head.
I adjust my phone and see my scowl in the minimized frame. “Where’s Phoebe?” I ask.
“We’re in a closet,” Jake says, like that explains why I can’t see her.
I glare. “Hand her your phone.”
“I’m right here. It’s fine,” Phoebe says, trying to problem-solve. Only, her way of problem-solving involves slipping in front of Jake’s body. His long arms must wrap around her. How else would he be holding the phone and have Phoebe in the frame? Her back is flush against his chest.
What kills me is her expression. It’s flat. No fire. No flame. No anything . She’s dissociating from her body, and I crave to reach inside the phone and cup her face until her eyes wield more than an empty vacuum of nothing.
“Phebs,” I say slowly.
“What?” she snaps, blinking a few times. “We’re fine. We’re figuring this out. Right?”
“Right.” I rake a hand through my dyed-black hair and skim her again. Her dark blue hair is falling out of a pony, and pieces brush against her beautiful heart-shaped face. Her brows crinkle, and a scowl forms the longer I stare. She’s okay.
“I didn’t know about the matchmakers,” Jake says with a heavy, aggravated sound. “It is something my mom would do. She must feel threatened by my relationship with Phoebe.”
“Why?” I ask him.
“Because she can’t control her. Which means, she’s losing control over me.”
It’s a motive for Jake.
A desire. To be free from Mommy’s gilded prison.
Is Phoebe really the key? It doesn’t matter to me if she is. These are Jake’s interests. Jake’s hopes and dreams. But what about hers? What about ours? This has nothing to do with us.
“People in this town are too invested in our love lives,” I tell her. “You sure you don’t want to pack your bags, Phebs? Catch a one-way ticket to anywhere else?”
We could leave. Run. Start over again. But she’s expressed multiple times that she wants to stay in Victoria. To plant roots. Whatever the fuck that means.
So I’m not surprised when she says, “I’m staying here. We just need to decide what we’re doing next with the whole fake-dating thing.”
Jake shifts uncomfortably behind Phoebe.
She stiffens. “I can move to the side?”
“No, you’re okay,” he says. “I just need to shift my arms a bit. Can I touch you?”
I glare out at the headstones and breathe out fire from my lungs.
“Yeah…sure.”
Back to the phone, where my gaze darkens on Jake. “You touch her ass and you’re dead, Koning.”
“How about her collarbone?” Jake asks. “Is that off-limits, Phoebe ?” He specifically asks her like he knows it’ll piss me off, and he’s probably reaffirming she’s the only one who can give permission over her body. Jake Waterford has a thick moral bone.
I’d like him to choke on it.
And I know exactly what that says about me.
Though, there is still a part of me that wishes I could be better . To have somewhat of a moral compass. But times like this, where he’s so goddamn infuriating, I would rather not take a single note from Jake’s virtuous handbook.
“The whole savior complex is tired,” I snap at him. “Get a new bit.”
“It’s not a bit . But I wouldn’t expect you to understand consent.”
I let out a dry laugh. This guy. He knows nothing about me. “You’re such a little—”
“Guys,” Phoebe cuts in, wide-eyed. “I thought we were friends.” She’s glaring at me like I have the power to play nice, and I do. I should. I need to.
Things have changed , I remind myself.
Jake cools off, and there’s a brief second where I remember our conversation at the horse stables, where he broke down. Where I broke him down. Where I agreed to help him.
Still, I don’t fully trust him. I’m too cynical. Too paranoid. I just can’t.
“We’re something,” I mutter as Jake wraps an arm around her collarbone and leans his other elbow on the shelf. He’s long limbed and cramped, and he exhales in relief at the new position.
Phoebe relaxes, but I think it’s mostly because she can’t see him—and her eyes are only on mine.
We watch each other while Jake talks. “Personally, I don’t want my mother to get what she wants, but for you two to be together, the matchmakers will have to succeed, right?”
“They’re not matchmaking us,” Phoebe says before I can. “I’m not agreeing to it, so your mom can fire them.”
It’d end their con, and it’ll raise red flags in front of our parents. They’ll wonder why Phoebe, the greatest team player of all fucking time, is sabotaging easy earnings.
Getting out from under them was always going to be a mess. I’d rather create it with her than keep living inside their lies.
Jake looks more hopeful. “Would you be willing to fake date for a couple more months then?”
She winces. “I don’t think I can, Jake.”
“It won’t be that long.”
I glare. “You’re not fake dating Phoebe while I’m with her. Break up with her within the week.” He’s lucky I didn’t say within two minutes.
I see Phoebe’s lips begin to rise.
Jake doesn’t notice her smile. “Phoebe?” he asks her.
She looks steadfastly at me. “I’m with Rocky. It’s over, Jake. Sorry.”
“I’m not sorry,” I say.
Jake rubs at his eyes, which causes the camera to shake. Then I hear Phoebe’s phone buzz. “It’s Hailey,” she says, and before long, she’s out the door to take my sister’s call.
I’m left with Jake.
He drops his hand off his face, and his eyes are noticeably reddened with grief. Like he’s lost a lot more than a fake romance.
“She’s not your meal ticket,” I tell him.
“You don’t understand,” Jake says in a pained laugh. “You can’t understand.”
I frown. “Then help me to.”
He considers but then slowly shakes his head.
“I don’t have many friends here,” I remind him. “It’s not like I’ll rat out your secrets to your brothers or your mother or anyone at the club.”
“You might not have many friends, but you’ve rubbed enough elbows. And locals, they love talking about you.” He sizes me up through the phone. “Grey Thornhall. The man who chased down his ex-wife in hopes of winning her back. It’s romantic to some.”
“Creepy to you,” I add.
He doesn’t deny it. I’d think he was full of shit if he did. “If you gave anyone here anything , they would fall all over you, Grey. They want to know you. They want to be close to you. They want to be the one you share everything with. You’re a part of the social ether of Victoria. And that is…”
Power.
He’s scared of me. Because he trusts me about as much as I trust him. Again, we’re on a trust teeter-totter, and I’ve never dealt with a situation this fragile. He’s not a part of a job. He’s not someone I’m supposed to manipulate. He’s just Phoebe’s fake boyfriend and my sister’s landlord.
“You’re going to have to trust me again,” I say to him.
Jake has a weighted frown. “I don’t know if I should.”
“I’m keeping your secret about your sister. What’s bigger than that?”
His long neck strains. His squared jaw noticeably tightens. He’s protective of her, and Jake on the defense is like a knight from King Arthur’s round table grabbing a sword. He looks like he wants to cut my throat. “And you keep mentioning Kate.”
“It’s leverage. Wouldn’t you bring it up if you had it on me?”
“Maybe,” he admits, and cools off at my honesty. “How’s your sister doing?”
I narrow my eyes. Tit for tat, huh? “Why do you care?”
“She didn’t show up for work today.”
“She’s fine, Jake.”
He nods.
I nod back.
We’re not getting anywhere I want to be. “Trust me or don’t. You’re the one with something to lose. Not me.” I give him a few seconds. His indecision is killing me, so I hang up. If he’s serious, he’ll call me back, but I have more important things to deal with.
The godmothers are in town.
I switch gears to the car. My life has been wrapped up in my parents’ plans, their jobs, their decisions. Phoebe and I and our siblings have always said yes , and we’re about to find out what happens when we finally try to take control.