Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Sure, Dad,” I reply. “Thanks.”
“What about you…” Dad’s voice trails off when, presumably, he spots Rusty. “And who is this?”
As Dad, Jacob, and Rusty move out of earshot, I get out of bed and look at myself in the mirror. My hair’s a mess, and my face is still red from crying last night. After Jacob went to his bedroom, I started thinking about what he said. We’re over. It’s the right thing. It’s the only good choice. I know he’s right. That’s why the tears came because I have to try to be better. I have to stop putting myself out there and throwing myself at him.
From now on, I won’t grovel and be so goddamn needy. If he wants it to be over, fine, we’ll end it. I’ll have to live with that somehow. I’m not a kid anymore. It’s time to crush the crush.
Even so, I can’t join them for breakfast until I’ve washed my face and fixed my hair. Dad and Jacob sit at the table, Rusty at Jacob’s feet, looking between him and Dad as they speak.
“That makes sense,” Dad is saying as I walk in.
“What makes sense?” I ask, purposefully sitting next to Dad and not looking at Jacob. I don’t even glance at him long enough to see what he’s wearing. From now on, that’s what I’ll have to do: block him out of my reality. Paint him out of existence.
“We’re going to sleep in shifts,” Dad says. “Just until Jacob’s contact can tell us if we’re in any real danger. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“I never said I was worried.”
Dad glances at me with a confused, hurt expression, but then he visibly decides to drop it. I’m being way too snappy. As if it’s his fault that I’m struggling not to salivate over his best friend. Dad’s phone buzzes from the counter. He leaps to his feet quickly and almost runs over to the counter.
“Something important?” I ask.
“What?” He looks up, forcing a laugh. “No, no. Just junk mail.”
Clearly, he was expecting something far more significant. He can pretend all he wants, but he’s hiding something. So what should I do, demand to know, tell him family doesn’t keep secrets from each other?
“Excuse me,” Dad says. “I need to use the bathroom.”
When he’s gone, Jacob says, “You’re doing a good job of pretending I don’t exist, Emma.”
God. He can’t have it both ways. “It’s like you want me to end it and be obsessed,” I say, still not looking at him, staring out the window instead. The snow has piled up around the property, but the porch is clear. I wonder what time Jacob was out there, working, while I slept.
“No, it’s just…” He sighs darkly. “You’re right.”
Yet I can tell he wants more than this. We’re going in circles, though, with Dad. Finally, I turn to Jacob. He’s staring right at me with those intense pale green eyes glinting. He’s wearing a flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up, giving him a rugged look. Not that he needs much help in that department.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, those tingles dancing over my body, the ones only he can produce.
He turns away like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. “I’m not.”
“Right, Jacob. Ri—”
I shut up when I hear Dad walking into the room. Fortunately, Dad is too preoccupied with keeping his own secrets to look for ours. He couldn’t look any shiftier if he tried, his eyes darting everywhere.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Fine, Emma,” he says. “Everything’s going to be okay. Don’t worry.”
He thinks I’m scared about the Cartel. Or maybe he’s just misdirecting. It’s a weird position to be in, not being able to confront him about keeping obvious secrets. I have no right to question him. No right at all.
Jacob glances at me as if he knows something’s up.
“Anyway, what are we all up to today?” Dad asks, taking his seat.
“I’m going to paint Rusty,” I say.
Dad chuckles. “You’ll need to get him away from Jacob first. He’s in love. Or maybe Jacob could hold a piece of chicken off to the side. Like all those photos you see on Facebook, all those smiling dogs. You know there’s a treat or a ball behind the camera.” He laughs again, so clearly covering something up.
“I wouldn’t ask Jacob to do that,” I mutter, squirting syrup onto my pancakes.
“It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to be,” Jacob says gruffly.
I don’t look at him. It’s like he’s trying to mess with my head. He tells me it’s over and then agrees to be alone with me. He knows how dangerous it is, us being alone together. He knows we have to be better. He knows we have to let go of our lust, of our whatever-this-is.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind…”