20. Jake
CHAPTER TWENTY
jake
Things in the friend group had been quiet since Colter and Ellison had their baby.
Mikey had been visiting Juniper a lot while she was in grad school, Reid was getting ready for Isabelle to move up to Montana, and Sierra and Hayden were off in their own little world.
While I was happy for them and all the exciting things happening, I couldn’t help the sadness that washed over me every now and then.
So much of the last five years had consisted of just our little group.
I knew we weren’t drifting apart from each other, but they all had their own lives and futures to look forward to.
Sometimes it felt like I was staying still, or just floating out on one of those buoy towers.
Anchored to the same spot while the sea brought everything else to the shore.
When I looked at my friends and the girls they’d met, I saw people who were meant for each other—made for each other. If the guys were lost ships in the night, then Ellison, Isa, June, and Sierra were their lighthouses, beacons cutting through the fog and darkness to bring them home.
All I wanted was to find my own lighthouse. Someone to guide me through the wreckage and challenges of life. And I hoped I could be that for someone, too. A constant, unwavering presence to remind them of who they were when they started to lose their way.
Looking over my shoulder, I peered across the lawn to the guest house, unsure of what I was hoping to find. My lighthouse, maybe.
My thoughts didn’t have the chance to take over my mind, though, because a soft knock at the door followed shortly after.
Doing my best not to smile like an idiot, I walked at a very normal pace to the entryway. When I opened the door, Caitlin stood in front of me, wearing denim overalls over a gray T-shirt with her hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She had a paintbrush in hand and a wide grin on her face.
“Want to help me paint Whit’s room?”
I looked down at my outfit, deeming my denim jeans and old Wranglers baseball T-shirt decent enough for painting.
Throwing her a mock salute, I said, “Put me to work, boss.”
Back at the guest house, Caitlin had already moved a lot of the furniture out of Whitley’s room, leaving it clear for fresh paint.
“You moved all of her furniture yourself?” I asked.
She crossed her arms. “Yeah, it wasn’t that hard.”
Realizing she probably thought I was shocked or something, I clarified. “No, no, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I just could have helped so you didn’t have to do it all by yourself.”
And it would have given me more reasons to hang out with you.
She shrugged. “It’s okay. You can help me move it all back in.”
“So, how do you want to tackle this?” I asked, surveying the room. It wasn’t a large space, but I was glad she asked me to help. Even with paint rollers, it would take a few hours for one person, and I knew she also wanted to do a sort of mural on the wall once the base color was done.
Caitlin tapped her lips, humming. “Do you want to do that half?” She pointed to the south and east walls. “Then I can do the other?”
“Sounds good.” I reached for the can of paint and pulled out the bottle opener I kept on my keys to break the seal on the lid. The color she’d picked was a butter yellow, and I smiled thinking of how perfect it was going to be for Whitley’s room. “Do you have a tray somewhere?”
“Yeah, hang on.” She walked into the other room then returned with the metal paint tray.
“Thanks.” I poured in as much paint as I could then grabbed one of the roller brushes.
After a bit more prep, we started painting the walls, both of us in our respective corners. I hummed as I worked, trying to fill the silence.
As if we had the same thought, Caitlin set down her paint and brush to turn on a small speaker in the hallway. “It’s too quiet in here. What kind of music do you like to listen to?”
“Whatever you want. I’m not picky.”
Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she grinned. “All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I raised my brows, and she shrugged as music from the ’80s started playing from the speakers. “Wouldn’t have pegged you as an oldies girl.”
She planted a hand on her chest, gasping in mock offense. “The ’80s are not old!”
“I think Whitley would beg to differ,” I teased.
With her small brush, she flicked paint onto my arm. “You’re only like three years younger than me!”
“Hey, I never said anything about me. I’m just going off what the kids are saying these days,” I said, flicking paint back at her.
A big clump landed in her hair, and her mouth gaped. “You did not just fling paint into my hair.”
“Payback.”
“Oh, yeah?” She grinned, reaching her hand into the paint tray before slinging a big glob at me.
“Careful, Cait. You have no idea what you’re trying to start.”
Her brows shot up. “Try me.” Stepping close, she pressed her hand directly in the middle of my chest, covering the Wranglers written on my shirt in yellow.
“Oh, it’s on.” I set my brush down and dipped both of my hands in the paint. “You better run.”
She laughed, shuffling to the other side of the room as I stalked toward her, yellow paint dripping onto the tarp we’d covered the floor with, a precaution I was now grateful for.
It only took me about five steps before I caught her, grasping both her arms and pulling her back to my chest. Little did I know, she still had paint covering her hand, and she pressed her palm to my cheek, the coolness of the paint doing nothing to counteract the heat that radiated through my body.
I flipped her around so she was facing me again, wiping the paint off my cheek with my pointer finger before tapping it onto the tip of her nose.
Her teeth pressed into her bottom lip, and her eyes flicked up to mine.
Our breaths mingled in the air between us, the tension thickening in the room.
She pouted her lips, sucking in one of her cheeks, then ran back to the paint bucket, picking up a brush and covering it with the paint.
The chase was on again, but this time I was the one running.
She came after me with the paint, swishing the brush like a sword in a duel.
But I was prepared. When she got close enough to swipe paint across my chest and up my neck, I wrapped my arms around her, picking her up so she was partially over my shoulder.
“Jake!” she screeched, smacking her hand on my back, no doubt marking me with more handprints. “Put me down!”
“Okay, you asked for it.” I set her down next to the bucket, not allowing her to get away before I covered her arms and stomach in paint.
When she came after me again, I grasped her hands in mine, interlacing them.
Her eyes widened as shock flashed across her face, the split moment allowing me to move her until her back was against the wall.
Both of us were covered in paint, the floor speckled with drops of yellow.
I released her hands, letting them fall to her sides before cupping her cheek with one hand.
“Jake—” My name came out on a shaky breath, barely a whisper.
Shifting my gaze down to her full, pink lips and back up to her eyes, I murmured, “Yeah, Cait?”
Her eyes darted to my mouth, both of us staring but neither of us willing to make a move.
My thumb traced the apple of her cheek, drawing a line down to the corner of her mouth. Caitlin’s hands settled on my arms just below my shoulder, and I leaned in slowly, our lips drawing closer together.
“Is anyone home?” a voice called from the front door.
I jumped back from Caitlin, warmth climbing up my neck into my face. The tips of Caitlin’s ears turned red, the pink flush deepening into her cheeks as we both stood there speechless.
“Whoa, what happened in here?” Colter asked, now standing in the doorway of the bedroom, taking in the mess we’d made. His lips twitched in a subtle, knowing smirk, but he didn’t say anything else.
“Um, paint spill?” Caitlin threw out before looking behind her at the very obvious body mark against the wall.
“Cool. I’m not gonna ask questions.” Colter ran his hand through his hair and cleared his throat.
“Um, Mom was trying to get ahold of you. She’s gotta go into town for some Creek Club thing, so she dropped off Whitley at our house because she wasn’t sure what you were doing or if you were home, and uh, yeah, she couldn’t reach you.
I’m not sure why she didn’t just drive out here to drop her off and check if you were home, but I’m sure she was in a hurry and knew Ellison and I would be at the house.
It’s closer, too. I’m sure she wanted to see the baby and check on Ellison, too.
” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You know how she is sometimes.”
Caitlin’s eyes widened. “Oh! Sorry, I’ll go back with you to pick her up.”
“Cool, cool.” He nodded then spun on his heel, walking out of the room and leaving me and Caitlin alone.
“Sorry.” She pressed her lips into a thin line, one brow raising above the other. “We can finish this later?”
I nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
Her expression fell, the color draining from her face.
“Cait? Everything okay?”
She snapped out of it, putting on a mask that everything was fine. “Yeah. I’m good. I’ll see you later, Jake, ’kay?”