18. Jake
JAKE
“Yes!”
I thrust my arms up in a V for victory as Carson scored a goal for the Cougars.
“Way to go!” my sister yelled, louder and prouder, at least by a little bit.
We high-fived each other as her kid fist-bumped his teammates by the net.
“He’s the man,” I said to Christine when the action in the game resumed.
“And so are you. Thank you for showing up. It’s really good to have you here.” She rested her head briefly on my shoulder. “For him and for me.”
I tousled her hair. “Good to be here. It’s not a chore. I love it—and you.”
“Ditto,” she said.
This was an excellent Sunday. Morning sex, family bonding, and my nephew owning the soccer field.
I couldn’t complain—not one bit.
Well, I could.
Kate had seemed slightly out of sorts when I took off this morning.
But we’d both overslept, and she didn’t have the luxury of living as close to the hotel as I did.
I’d grabbed a quick shower, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, and still reached the game on time.
I should check in with her soon, see if she made it to her meeting, and then make some plans with her for tonight.
As Carson’s team moved downfield, I shouted, “Keep it up, Cougs!”
Christine shot me a glance. “You’re in a festive mood.”
“And why shouldn’t I be?”
She lifted a curious brow. “Why should you be? Does this mean you took my advice for the weekend?”
I held out my right hand as if showing off a manicure. “Yes, I went to the spa. Had my nails done.” I dragged a hand down my cheek. “Indulged in a facial. And then got a hot-stone massage.”
She rolled her eyes. “Smart-ass.”
“Learned it from you,” I said. Then, because I was in a good mood, I tossed her a crumb of gossip. “I took the weekend off. Spent some time with Kate.”
She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
“Excited much?” I teased. “Also, why are you excited so much?”
She dropped her hand by her side, nearly squealing, and my sister is not a squealer. “Like I said, you sparkle around her.”
I shook my head, but I was laughing as I denied it. “I’m not a sparkler.”
“So, how was it?”
I pretended to be offended. “I don’t sparkle and tell.”
Her arm darted out, and she swatted my shoulder. “So, you did?”
Ah, hell.
My sister was such a sneak. I hadn’t meant to give away the personal details.
But then again, I was in a good mood, and good moods could loosen lips. I gave a what can I say shrug. “We spent some time together, and it was nice.”
“Nice? It was nice ? Waiters are nice. A penguin backpack is nice. A thank-you card is nice. A night or two with the woman you’ve had it bad for is not nice. It’s either fantastic or something you never want to repeat.” She parked her hands on her hips. “Which one was it?”
As Christine glared at me, I made my decision. It was official. My sister was a mind reader, no two ways about it.
“Kate is great,” I said, trying to rein in a grin.
She pumped a fist. “Knew it. Called it. When do you see her again?”
“Tonight, as a matter of fact.” As I said it, I made another decision too.
Tonight, I’d let Kate know.
I’d make it clear I wanted more than a simple extension to our weekend.
I wanted to see what might happen beyond the boundaries of our deal.
Because I’d realized last night that when we were together, wrapped up in each other, I hadn’t wanted to let her go.
It wasn’t just the earth-shattering sex.
It was her. I wanted to learn more about her.
To talk over shishito peppers and wine, to discuss books and friends, to chat about life and this city and what makes us tick.
That was what we had done this weekend.
We’d hadn’t merely slept together. We’d been together.
My sister was right. My friends were right. There was something between Kate and me, and it was time to explore it fully.
And it was time I admitted it to Kate, whether or not she was ready for more than an arrangement. Was she? I didn’t know. But maybe her feelings had changed this weekend too.
I grabbed my phone to text her, just as a message from her popped up.
Kate: I’m slammed tonight. Sorry! I guess I’ll lose this bet. But this weekend was fun! Thanks again.
I blinked, the hair on my neck standing on end.
Was my phone infected? Had I been hacked? Was this a bug?
Because what the hell?
This sure seemed like a brush-off note.
I stepped away from the field, pacing toward the parking lot, and read her text again, as if I could decipher it differently the second time around.
But on the third and fourth times, it still said the same damn thing.
She was done.
She didn’t want anything more, or even another time.
Only I did.
Part of me wanted to fight. To ask what the hell had happened. But then I remembered what she’d said less than forty-eight hours ago. One weekend, no strings, no promises, nothing more.
She hadn’t lied, never led me astray. She’d been up-front from the get-go.
The weekend was over.
And there were most definitely no strings attached for her.
I might want to give this thing a shot, but she clearly didn’t.
Here was where I had to tread carefully. We had friends in common, work in common, life in common, and the woman had encountered enough jerks in her dating life.
I didn’t need to be the next one.
As I walked back to the field, ready to focus on Carson and the game, I hit reply.
Jake: You are most welcome.