Chapter Eighteen
It’s anticipation
Pure intoxication
And I-I-I can’t wait to see you again
(Love Drunk!)
—US Lyric Bot [@HourlyUS]
I’d never been drunk before, but it must feel something like this—stuck between falling and standing, too asleep but too awake all at once, with a thousand things you want to say blossoming on your traitorous tongue.
Things that would definitely get you in trouble.
Jake parked in my driveway, then came around to open the passenger side door for me. And when my eyes landed on him in my haze, my only thought was, You’re pretty even when you’re blurry.
An incredibly dumb thought.
He was, though. Stupid, blurred vision did nothing to blot out his good looks.
It really wasn’t fair.
“What’s not fair?” Jake asked.
Right. Okay. So I said that bit out loud then. At least it hadn’t been the first part.
“Hush,” I admonished him. His voice and the way he was looking at me really didn’t help the whole Not Falling in Love trick I’d just begun to master. “I’m trying to focus.”
“What are you doing?”
“A trick.”
His head inclined ever so slightly toward the side as I slowly stood and tried to concentrate. “Is the trick not passing out? If it is, it’s a good trick. You should probably keep doing it.”
Why was he so funny? He shouldn’t be so funny. Hot and talented people should at least have the grace to have the personality of wet cardboard, lest they hoard too many good traits. Having a good sense of humor on top of everything else was just plain greedy.
Whoa, where were these thoughts even coming from? Was my trick not working at all?
“Thank you for the ride,” I said very politely.
As elegantly as I could, I reached out for my keys.
Double vision made it look like there were two little Ferris wheel key fobs in Jake’s hand, but I aimed for the one on the left and didn’t even miss.
Score one for motor skills. “I can take it from here.”
“Why don’t I walk you to your door?”
Like at the end of a date? I eyed him. “Are you sure you’re the bad boy of the group? Maybe it’s an autocorrect done by your marketing team and they meant to label you as the token brunet instead.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Humor me.”
Agreeably, I walked to my door with Jake beside me, then put my key into the lock.
Or I tried to. Then I missed.
Two more times.
Jake knew better than to ask me to hand my keys over. But after another failed attempt, he carefully put his hand over mine, helped guide the key into the lock, and then gently turned it.
Soft heart, sharp jawline, my mind chirped helpfully.
Ugh. Shut up, brain. I was never taking my allergy meds without food again.
Jake followed me inside, though he kept his distance. “I just want to make sure you get to the couch and don’t pass out in the middle of the floor.”
“That’s very southernly mannered of you, but I’m fine,” I stated, taking several more steps to prove my point and delicately sitting down on the couch. “You’re watching me walk how I used to watch Mom after her accident.”
Jake looked like I just pulled a knife on him. “What?”
Oh, right. He didn’t know how hard all of that was. The medicine made me forget. Distractedly, I studied the cheap linoleum floor. Had that fake wood pattern always looked like a Siamese cat doing the hokey pokey or was that a new thing?
“Her car crash,” I found myself saying. Actually, I think the Siamese might be doing the samba.
“You’re seeing Mom when she’s already healed some.
But she was really bad for a while there, Jake.
She still has to go to PT every week.” Mom’s truth bomb from this morning hit me again and I frowned.
“All the money went toward her medical stuff, which is why there’s nothing left for the café.
” I groaned, putting my head in my hands for a moment, before looking up at him, glassy-eyed.
“So this livestream really needs to work. Or else the whole ship is going down. Under my watch. That’s why I didn’t want to leave. ”
Jake looked like I’d now stuck the knife in him and twisted. He swore quietly under his breath.
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” I gave a mirthless chuckle as I fell back against the cushions. “I’m not sure why you even care, though.”
Jake looked stricken. “Why wouldn’t I care?”
“Maybe because you’re only here because your manager told you to be.
And, oh, I don’t know, maybe because you kissed me and then ran away.
” The scene replayed in my head again. Him leaning in.
The brush of his lips against mine, soft and fast and filling me with sparks, like I’d just caught lightning in a bottle.
Had it just been an impulse decision? A way to say goodbye that he didn’t quite think through?
“Did the kiss mean nothing to you? Did everything between us that came before the kiss even mean anything to you either?”
“Lucy,” Jake said, and I could hear footsteps coming over to me, shock dripping from his voice. “Of course it did.” Did. Past tense. What a tricky, gut-twisting way to phrase things. “I swear, I didn’t—”
“Mean to break my heart? Yeah. I get it. Side effects may vary and all that.” I sighed. “Can’t believe you never answered my texts, though.”
“Your texts?”
“Oh, you know.” I waved my hand. “The ones I sent you.”
“Lucy,” Jake said again, more urgently, although he never raised his voice at me. That was nice. “What texts?”
Another wave of dreamlike lightheadedness hit me, making my eyes feel heavy. I didn’t want to rehash the past and all the things I said to him only to be left on Read. Running my hands over my face, I flopped back against the couch, too tired to fight or stay awake.
“Lucy, I swear, I never—” Jake cut himself off, before blinking, stunned, like he’d just gotten an electric jolt. “Wait, does this mean you never got my trinkets?”
Or, at least, that’s what I thought he said. I furrowed my eyebrows.
“Trinkets?” I mouthed.
“Tickets,” Jake repeated, enunciating carefully.
But my allergy-medication-laden mind was still hooked on trinkets.
I’d seen some US knickknacks and random merchandise for sale before.
They even had some candy dispensers that were slightly disturbing.
I shuddered at the memory. “Did you get US tickets?”
Eyes watering, I sneezed hard, my head lurching forward and rattling my two remaining brain cells around in my brain. “Why would I get US tickets?”
I definitely couldn’t afford those. Not now. Weren’t they sold out, anyway?
“Because—” Jake paused, taking me in, concern filling his eyes before they went soft.
I watched, fascinated. I could visibly see them soften and get crinkly at the corners.
In this light, his eyes were the color of when coffee blended with cream, all pretty and warm.
“Never mind, you look like you need some rest first. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? We can talk about it later.”
“We don’t have to,” I told him, not wanting Jake to feel like I was keeping him on the hook for anything. “It’s in the past. We’ve both moved on. And after this week, it’s not like you’ll be here for me.”
I shut my eyes tight before blinking, trying to will the fog and glassiness away. I really needed to get ahold of my mouth; who knows what stupid thing I’d say next now that my inhibitions had taken a vacation and were currently doing the conga line on some tropical island along with my dignity.
“You’ll just walk right out of my life again, anyway,” I finished.
Jake watched me closely, like I was something he was desperately trying to divine an answer from. “Do you really believe that?”
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter,” I sighed.
It was what it was. I just had to stop myself from missing him.
It’s not like he deserved it, if he didn’t miss me.
I guess he hadn’t ever meant to hurt me either.
But had he seriously believed I’d never cared about him that much, that his absence wouldn’t affect me? “It’s not important.”
My eyes drifted shut.
Vaguely, I registered Jake settling a blanket over me.
“Lucy,” he said, his voice feather soft, “you are the most—”
But the darkness overtook me before I could hear what he said.