Chapter 28
Jake
I don’t know what Danielle said to her, but it seems like Alice came back to the studio extra feisty and looking for a fight. She’s throwing out reasons why we can’t be together. It’s a long list, but nothing new. I’ve heard them all from her before, but something about this time is different. I swear she wants me to argue. This doesn’t feel like all the times she wished I would shut my mouth and leave her alone. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she wants me to tell her she’s wrong and we should go for it. But she’s made it perfectly clear that’s not what she wants from me. So far, I’ve managed to stay calm and let her vent her frustration, but my patience is hanging by the thinnest thread.
“Seriously, Jake, we can’t be more than business partners. It would be a disaster.”
“I know, Ace. You’ve said as much, and I don’t recall asking for more from you.”
“It could mess up your whole dream for this place. Besides, we’re from two different worlds. I don’t even know how to play golf!” she yells.
Golf?
I don’t know why that’s what finally makes the dam break, but this time I yell right back at her. “Do I strike you as the kind of guy who wants to book a tee time and run over to the country club? Do you think I’m standing around, creaming my khakis at the thought of brunch on Sundays?”
“Oh, come on. Who doesn’t like brunch? Everyone loves brunch.” She can’t stop herself from contradicting every word out of my mouth.
This might be the stupidest argument we’ve ever had. I don’t even know what a person who doesn’t eat meat or dairy could have at a brunch. Oatmeal? There’s no way she actually feels this passionately about oatmeal. She just has to fight, because that’s what we bring out of each other. I understand, because I feel the same frustration pulsing through me.
I step forward, and she does the same until our bodies are only inches apart, and she points one finger into my chest. I want to grab her and throw her against the wall, stick my tongue in that loud mouth to make her stop talking. Although, knowing Alice, she’d probably bite it. Maybe I shouldn’t find that hot, but I do.
Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and a little bit of the fire leaves her body. We both know she has to check the message. It could be about her dad. She sighs and pulls it out. Immediately, her shoulders relax, and I think I see a flash of humor in her eyes.
“Everything okay?” I know she wants to fight, and if that’s what she needs from me I’m more than happy to oblige, but I still feel the need to make sure there isn’t another emergency. As much as she drives me insane, I want her to be okay.
“It was nothing, not that it’s any of your business.”
As she lowers her phone, I catch a glimpse of the screen. It’s an image of a prairie dog. I laugh, unable to help it, and she narrows her eyes at me.
“What?”
“I completely forgot I did that,” I say, pointing at her phone.
She gasps. “Fuzzy Alice was from you?” The hard lines that etched her features seconds ago have softened.
“I thought naming a rodent after you would be a solid prank.” I shrug. “But judging from the look on your face, it didn’t annoy you as much as I thought it would.”
She actually stomps her foot and crosses her arms, letting out a loud groan of frustration. “I hate when you make it impossible for me to hate you.”
I smirk at that, and she points at my mouth.
“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I should hate your smug face.”
“But you don’t, do you?”
“But I don’t. I really don’t. And it’s becoming a problem.” She sighs a long, heavy breath.
I can relate. I don’t hate her either. I never have.
Her voice is small when she launches into her explanation. “I wasn’t allowed to have a pet growing up. I used to beg for a hamster because they were cute and pretty inexpensive, as far as pets go. But my parents always said no. Getting those pictures feels…it’s almost like gaining back a piece of my childhood. It sounds stupid, but sometimes it’s the best part of my week.”
Whatever fight I had left in me evaporates. “That’s not stupid at all.”
I did that for her. Even though it wasn’t intentional, knowing I made her feel that way warms me from the inside like a shot of good whiskey.
“But it sucks to find out I only have her because you were trying to be mean.”
“I wasn’t trying to be mean, I was trying to be annoying. You know, like glitter in a sock drawer or switching all the cases in someone’s video game collection.” I duck down to look at her face-to-face.
She’s biting her lip, trying to hide the smile that wants to break through.
“Alice?”
She heaves another big sigh. “What?”
“I think we should go on a real date.”