Chapter 22 Jake and His Sexiness While Taking Care of Kids #2
I turn to Jake, laughing. His face shows surprise, probably about how I handled the situation.
He was most likely expecting me to turn red and say nothing, but I know exactly how to deal with the twins, and doing that was not an option.
It’s not as if I didn’t turn red anyway, I was just covered in flour, and nobody saw it.
“What are you doing here?” I ask them.
“It’s a kitchen, Madelaine.” Brandon states.
“What do you think we’re here for?” Blake laughs.
“To set it on fire?” Brandon asks Blake, and then they both turn to me. “I think once is enough, don’t you think?” They both mock, cracking up, making Jake snort, and when I turn to him, he puts his fist in his mouth to try to hold back the laughter, to then turn serious.
“Come on, guys, it was an accident, it happens.”
“You’re not funny anymore, now that you switched sides.” Blake raises an eyebrow and opens the bag of chips that I definitely didn’t let them open.
“Don’t eat chips before dinner, or you won’t want to eat.”
“Killjoy.”
Yeah, being the eldest in my immediate family sucks sometimes. I’m the one who has to say no to stuff even when I wanna say yes. Be responsible and trustworthy for the adults.
“I thought she wouldn’t be boring anymore now that she’s dating him…” Brandon whispers loudly to Blake, and they scramble out of the kitchen.
And boring, add that to the eldest daughter curse.
I turn off the music that I didn’t even notice was still playing in the background.
“We should probably clean up.” I scratch a spot on my nose and hurry to the pantry to get the broom.
I don’t look up, but still hear him washing the bowl and the other stuff we got dirty.
“I’m not that boring, right?” I ask the ground, hating that I even have to ask this to West of all people.
He’s the opposite of boring. He’ll be that person who will be full of stories to tell his kids, and they can envy him and resent him, and he’ll seem so cool.
I wish I dared to do half the stupid shit he does.
That’s why I give him such a hard time about it.
Pure childish envy. I wish I could just stop overthinking everything and all its consequences, but I can’t just turn off my brain like that.
“I hardly think someone chugging beer upside down is boring.” He recalls, and I roll my eyes, stopping the sweeping motion, while he gets down to pick up the dust pan and take it to the trash.
“No, but that was today, and you and Allison talked me into it. That doesn’t count.”
“Brown, you don’t work that way. You must be the most stubborn person I know, so trust me, we didn’t convince you to do anything. If you didn’t want to do it, you wouldn’t have done it.” He bangs the dust pan against the trash to make sure everything falls into it.
“Okay, but what if I did it because I wanted to prove that my life isn’t boring? Not because I really wanted to? What does that make me?” I rest my chin at the top of the broom, and he comes closer.
“That makes you human.” Slowly, he takes the broom from me and ends up sweeping the rest of the kitchen himself.
“Just because you don’t party like Allison or me doesn’t mean your life is boring.
You must have read about a hundred books in your life, you walk around the city all the time, and talk to different people, especially older, experienced people.
You can sing, and you listen to all types of music from six different decades.
You have an open mind and have intelligent conversations.
” He turns to me while sweeping. “You’re curious, and when you’re interested in something, you deep dive into it until you know more about it than Wikipedia.
You observe people to the point where I think you could be their therapist, and they wouldn’t need to say a word to tell you what’s wrong.
I don’t know Brown, it seems like your life is rich to me.
” He casually walks off as if he didn’t read my entire being and essence.
Like it’s just something he does on the regular, no big deal.
I feel seen. And I hate to admit it, but he opened some locked part of my brain that deemed me plain and without substance. He’s right.
“I-I hate you, too.” I shrug, speechless, not knowing what to say, and his laugh lines slap me right in the face.
“I love it when you react like that.” He brushes past me to put the broom and dust pan away and then comes back.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re malfunctioning because you can’t believe I’m a normal person and think things through.”
He’s definitely not normal. He’s somehow the complete opposite.
“I know, I just-” I truly have nothing relevant to say right now. Actually, I hope he doesn’t feel like that. “Off the record, I do think you think things through, you’re just good at choosing what’s worth thinking about or not.”
Something I lack because I just overthink everything.
“Hmm, off the record, because you can’t be caught dead complimenting me, right?”
“See?”
He nods, a smile creeping up, and I find myself smiling back, ever so slightly.
Silence and muffled laughs from afar. It’s the second time today I’m wishing to draw his freckles and memorize the color of his eyes. What?
“We should…” He gestures towards the flour all over us.
“Yeah… Outside, so we don’t upset your cleaning condition.” I phrase it slowly, and he scoffs.
“It’s called being organized. You should try it sometime, and you know, not live like a raccoon in a dumpster.”
“It’s not that bad.”
Actually, it is that bad. You could ask me, just like Captain Holt did to Jake Peralta, to point out the difference between a landing in the Philippines and my room, and let me tell you, I could not tell you the difference.
“I once found pizza with mold under a clean sweater.” He recalls, and I purse my lips. Yep, that tracks.
We go outside, and the sky is at that stage where it’s not dark blue, but it’s not orange anymore. It’s a soft blue with stars trying to appear.
“It’s so beautiful,” I say, looking at the sky.
“Yes, you are.” He says, unbothered, and I move my head towards him wide-eyed. His eyes are with that look that I’m not sure if I like. It triggers my fight or flight response. Makes me wanna either hit him or k- Hold hands with him.
“You mean the sky, right?”
I know it’s a stupid question, and he was very clear about what he said, but maybe, just maybe, I heard it wrong?
“Right...” He looks away, grinning, and drags the word.
He’s probably just used to this careless, smooth talking. With so many girls and so many flings, you have to say something like that to at least entertain them for an hour.
“Whatever. Come here.” I say. His hair is filled with flour. “Lower your head, please.”
He puts his hands in surrender and moves his head down. I run my fingers through his messy hair, trying to take all of it, and I must admit, I would be lying if I told you that running my fingers through his perfect hair isn’t pleasing.
“You’re done. Now do me.”
He raises an eyebrow, and I hit his arm.
“God, West, not like that!” He laughs, annoying me. “Just clean my hair…”
I don’t need to lower my head because, well, I’m literally a head shorter than him. Surprisingly, my hair is much easier to clean than his.
We go inside and take off our aprons, leaving them in the pantry.
Now would be a good time for a movie.
I walk to the living room to find all of the kids already there.
“What do you people want to watch?”
“We’re hungry, and no, Paige, we’re not watching Tangled again.” Blake says.
“Why would we, when Madelaine can just stare at me instead of Flynn Rider?” West smugly says, and I push him.
“Shut up.”
“Hello? Are you feeding us or what?” Brandon catches our attention.
“Right. I’ll go make some scrambled eggs or something…”
“Isn’t that too sophisticated for you?” Lindsey grins.
“You all are being too mean, as if I don’t control whether you eat or not.”
They shut up at this, and I mumble to myself.
“Right scrambled eggs…” I place my hands together, imagining the steps in my head when Jake sighs.
“For fuck’s sake, Brown, just follow me, and no, I didn’t swear, and you can’t swear either.” He points at the twins, ready to argue for sure.
I fake enthusiasm. I actually don’t have a clue if he cooks well or not. But one thing I do know. He definitely cooks better than me. We wouldn’t want the kids to be food-poisoned.
“Luckily for you, I actually am a good cook, so you kids are safe.”
“Thank god!” My sister says. I can’t even blame her.
Jake goes into the kitchen and orders me to stay here and choose a movie with them.
I’m suspecting he can’t deal with me any longer, and honestly, I don’t blame him for it.
I can be a real pain in the ass when I want to.
When he comes back, he brings a tray full of cheese and ham toasted sandwiches.
That’s our dinner? It’s a bit bland, isn’t it?
“May I present to you, The Jakewiches.” I laugh at the name, and his sister looks at me.
“Oh, you cannot be serious.”
“Laugh all you want, but these…” She points to the bread. “Are worth killing for.”
He passes me one, and they’re still warm. When I put it in my mouth, melted cheese and ham get to me, but that’s not the only thing that I can identify. I taste tomato and lettuce and… Oregano? Also, butter enhances all of it.
I resist an eye roll.
“It’s… Fine.”
“You’re so stubborn.” West shakes his head while lightly smiling.
“Don’t pretend that’s not the reason you’re always flirting with me.” I take another bite, and it takes everything in me not to have a physical reaction.
“Touché.” He nods while eating, too.
I don’t know why, but I feel a small pit in my stomach. It’s something I’ve always known; he just confirmed it. It’s the chase. Wait, I hate him, why am I feeling like this?
“This is some gourmet shit!” Brandon says, and I turn to him wide-eyed. I swear to god, a person cannot get lost in her thoughts without these kids pushing it.