Give Us a Chance (Wheeler Brothers #2)

by Allie Everhart

  "I can't. I'm having dinner with Zach tonight."

  "That's right. I forgot."

  "I need to use the restroom. I'll be right back."

  When she's gone, Callie says, "Those two drive me crazy. They're totally made for each other but neither one of them will make a move. Nash and I keep telling Bryce to do something, at least tell her how he feels, but he refuses to do it. He thinks dating her will ruin their friendship, but they don't really have a friendship anymore because he keeps avoiding her."

  "So Jen wants to go out with him?"

  "She used to, but now she's given up on him. She's been waiting for him to do something for years and he hasn't. So she's moving on, dating other guys." She takes a drink of her soda. "It's really too bad when your perfect match is right in front of you and you can't even see it, or worse, that you refuse to do anything about it because you're too afraid to." She checks her phone and smiles. "Text from Nash. He wants to know if I'm bringing him my leftovers. He knows I never finish my meal." She texts him back.

  Jen returns to the table and we finish our lunch. I like these two a lot. We're going to have to have lunch again, or go to a movie, or a bar for drinks. I haven't had a girls' night out in a long time.

  Before we leave, we all check our phones. A group of eight girls sits down next to us and they're really loud. They all have matching sweatshirts with Greek letters from whatever sorority they belong to.

  "Check this out," one of them says, holding out her phone for all of them to see. "Even his apartment is hot. It's so masculine." She smiles. "All man. Just like him."

  "Did you get a photo of him?" the girl next to her asks.

  "He wouldn't let me." She sets her phone down. "He said he doesn't like having his photo taken. But I don't need a photo. I had the real thing." She picks up her iced coffee and wraps her lips around the straw, moving it up and down, suggestively, then says, "Girls, you have not had sex until you've had sex with Jake Wheeler."

  I freeze, and my phone falls from my hand, hitting the table. Callie and Jen both look at me. They obviously heard the conversation. Jen is frowning and Callie looks panicked.

  She grabs her purse and shoves her phone in it. "We should go. It's already—"

  "Wait." I hold up my hand, quieting her as the girls talk again.

  "When did this happen?" one of the girls asks Straw Girl. That's what I'm calling her now because of the way she sucked on that straw.

  "Last Saturday," she says. "After the house party, Kylie and I went bar-hopping and found Jake at the last bar we stopped at. His brother, Bryce, was there too, but Kylie wanted him." She winks at the girl next to her, who I assume is Kylie.

  "You know how I love a guy covered in tats," Kylie says.

  "Let's go," I hear Callie say.

  But Jen and I don't move. Jen's chewing her lip, staring down at the table, probably imagining Bryce with Kylie the way I'm imagining Jake with Straw Girl.

  "Did you get with Bryce?" one of the girls asks Kylie.

  "I tried, but he said he had to be at work early. But we had a heavy make-out session in the parking lot. And shit, that boy knows what he's doing."

  "All the Wheeler boys do," the girl next to her says. "I made out with Nash at a party last April and yeah," she smiles, "that boy had skills." She swipes through her phone. "Wonder what he's doing now? I should give him a call."

  Callie bursts from her seat, her face red like she's about to explode. Jen grabs Callie's wrist, stopping her. "It was before he met you," she says quietly. She lets go of Callie and puts her coat on. "Let's get out of here. I can't listen to this anymore."

  We get up to leave, and as we're walking out, Callie turns back and gives the death stare to the girl who made out with Nash. I want to do the same to Straw Girl. Even though it was before my date with Jake, I still feel sick knowing he had sex with that girl just last weekend. And then asked me out just few days later. Did he forget about her that fast? Obviously he did, and he was ready to move on to the next girl, which is me. Well, he can forget it. I am NOT going to be just another one of the women he uses and tosses aside.

  All the rumors about him were true. I didn't want to believe them. I wanted to think he was different than that. He seemed different on our dates. But he's not. He's just like I thought. He's a player, and I'm not going to be on his roster of random hookups.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jake

  I'm standing at the entrance to Ivy's apartment building waiting for her to buzz me in. I hope she's home and not still at work. I called her this afternoon just to check in but she didn't answer her phone. And when I sent her a text, she texted back that she was busy and couldn't talk. So then I called Nash to see what the hell he's making her do that has her so busy she can't answer her phone. But Nash was in meetings all afternoon with the library restoration board so I wasn't able to talk to him.

  I call her again, but then hear the door buzz open.

  When I get up to her apartment, she's waiting at the door with her coat on. "I'm ready."

  She attempts to go around me but I block her.

  "Are you going to say hello first?"

  She exhales a breath, forcefully, like she's angry about something. "Hi." She doesn't look at me as she says it.

  "What's going on?"

  "Nothing."

  Nothing. Any guy who knows anything about women knows 'nothing' is girl-speak for 'everything' and means she's seriously pissed.

  "Did you have a bad day at work?"

  "Work was fine. Now can we go?"

  "We're not leaving until you tell me what's wrong. Let's go inside."

  "Jake, I'm serious. We need to go. I told my dad we'd be there soon."

  "Then call your dad and tell him we'll be late because I need to know what's going on with you."

  She stands there, forcefully exhaling again.

  "Would you stop doing that?"

  "Doing what?" she snaps.

  "Those huffing sounds. You sound like a damn charging bull. You're obviously pissed, so what about?"

  When she doesn't answer, I take her hand and pull her into the apartment and close the door.

  "What happened?"

  She yanks her hand from mine. "I told you. Nothing happened."

  "Which is code for something DID happen."

  "Can't I just be in a bad mood? Or is that not allowed?"

  "Just tell me what happened." I reach for her but she backs away. "So this is about me." I look directly at her. "What did I do?"

  "You didn't do anything. It's just...you're just...you." She turns and walks away from me.

  "What's that supposed to mean? You're pissed at me for being me?" She doesn't respond so I walk over to her and face her. "Explain this to me."

  "There's nothing to explain. You are who you are, and I knew that and...there's nothing more to say."

  "Is this about last night? You're mad about the hostess? Because I already apologized for that and I'll apologize again. I'm sorry. I didn't know she'd be there."

  Ivy finally looks at me, but it's a glare. "This isn't just about the hostess. And for the record, you didn't apologize last night."

  I didn't? I thought I did.

  "If this isn't about the hostess, then what is it about?"

  She gets her phone out and texts someone, I'm guessing her dad to tell him we'll be late. I watch her, my eyes on her face. Her silky dark hair is down around her shoulders. Her makeup is soft, natural, complimenting her olive skin. Her full, pink lips are slightly parted, and I'm tempted to say to hell with this cryptic conversation and just kiss her. But I know that wouldn't end well. She wants nothing to do with me right now.

  She slips her phone back in her pocket. "I'll just go to my dad's house alone. You don't need to come. Just forget about the bathroom."

  "Ivy. Stop it." I grasp her hands, holding them tightly so she can't yank them away. "I asked you to be honest with me, even if I won't like what you're going to tell me. So just say it. What did
I do?"

  "You slept with a girl," she says, her eyes fixed on mine.

  I slept with a girl? Is she kidding? That's what she's mad about? I've slept with tons of girls, and she knows this. This isn't a secret.

  "That's why you're angry? Because I had sex? Ivy, you know I—"

  "Yeah. I know. I don't need you to explain. You're Jake Wheeler and you sleep with a different girl every night. In fact, I sat next to one of them at lunch today. I overheard her talking. She told all her friends about you. She said she had sex with you."

  "Maybe she was lying. People lie all the time."

  "She had photos of your apartment. She showed them to her friends. So your one-night stand has seen your apartment, but not me. Do you only take girls you sleep with there?"

  I don't remember a girl taking pictures of my apartment. I don't know who she's talking about.

  "You can come to my apartment whenever you want," I say. "We can go there right now. And as for this girl, she's probably someone I was with years ago."

  "It was last weekend."

  Last weekend I was with two girls. Shit, that's bad. I didn't think it was at the time, but now I do.

  "What was her name?" I cringe as I say it, wishing I hadn't.

  "You don't even know her name?" Ivy huffs out another breath.

  I sigh. "What do you want me to do? I can't go back and redo last weekend. And it happened before I started going out with you, so why are you so angry with me?"

  "You're right. I shouldn't be angry." She says that, but still sounds furious. "I knew you were a player even before I met you, so this isn't a surprise. But I don't date players. Not anymore. I've been there. Done that. And I'm not doing it again."

  "So that's it? We had two great dates and now you're done with me? You won't even give me a chance?"

  "A chance to what? See how fast you can get in my pants? No. Forget it. I'm not one of those girls, but there are plenty of them out there, so you can have your pick."

  I gently squeeze her hands, which I'm still holding, and look her in the eye. "I don't want those other girls. I want you. I want to keep dating you. I want to see where this could go. I understand why you have doubts about me, but I'm asking you to give me a chance. People can change."

  "You're not going to change. Why would you? You can have any girl you want. A different one every night. It's every guy's dream."

  "That's not what I want. Not anymore."

  "Why? What's changed?"

  "You." I blurt it out, but then regret it because it's more truthful than I wanted to be, and now I feel vulnerable, which is not a feeling I'm comfortable with. But I said it and I can't take it back so I might as well keep going and lay it all out there. "I like you, Ivy. I have for a long time. And I think we both know there's something between us. Something that's worth a hell of a lot more than one night."

  She doesn't respond, but just gazes down at the floor.

  "What are you afraid of, Ivy? That I'll cheat on you? Because I can tell you right now, that's not gonna happen. If I'm with you, it'll only be you. No one else. I promise."

  Her eyes dart up. "How can you say that? You have no idea what will happen. You've never dated someone before. After a week or two, you'll get tired of me and want someone new. Or some girl will come up to you at a bar and you won't be able to turn her down."

  "Do you really think I'd do that? Especially to someone I care about as much as I care about you?"

  She gazes at the floor again. "You don't even know me."

  "You sure about that?" I lift her chin up and wait for her to look at me. "I know you like two creams and one sugar in your coffee. I know chocolate-sprinkled donuts are your favorite. I know you won't eat anything with mayonnaise. I know you secretly like Neal Diamond songs and that you hum Sweet Caroline when you're sharpening your tools."

  "What? I don't—"

  "Yeah. You do. I've heard you humming it. I don't think you even know you're doing it. But I do. I also know that you're the best damn carpenter I've ever met. That you're dedicated to your craft, always wanting to learn more and get better. That you love what you do, but that you're frustrated and angry that you have to work a hundred times harder than any guy just to prove yourself, even though it's clear to everyone that you're better than they are."

  I could go on all night, but I stop because I think she's got the point.

  "How do you know all that?" she asks, her tone now soft, the anger gone. "We didn't talk much when you were my boss."

  "We didn't have to. I saw you every day. I listened to you. I paid attention. You can learn a lot about a person without talking."

  Her gaze lowers again. "I still can't date you, Jake."

  "Why? Because you don't like me? Or because you don't trust me?"

  "The last one."

  "Then let me earn it. Let me earn your trust. Let me prove to you that you can trust me."

  "That'll take time. I'm not going to trust you overnight."

  "We have time. I'm not going anywhere." I pause. "So will you go out with me?"

  She hesitates. "I don't know."

  "You said you liked me. And it's generally best to date people you like."

  She smiles for the first time tonight. "I never actually came out and said I liked you."

  "It was implied. So what do you say?"

  She doesn't answer.

  I lean over and put my lips to her ear. "According to you, I still have to improve my skills in the art of kissing. So even if you say no to dating me, I'll still be kissing you. Until I get to that level I told you about last night."

  I skim my lips down her neck and hear her say in a breathy voice, "Maybe you should practice right now."

  I smile to myself, then move my mouth back to hers and kiss her. A deep, intense, all-consuming kiss that tells her I want this. I want her. I want to at least try to make this work. I want to prove to her that I'm not the old Jake. That I can be in a relationship and be faithful to her.

  "Jake," she whispers after we've been kissing for several minutes. "We really need to go."

  "Only if we can continue this later."

  "Deal. But just this. Nothing else."

  I kiss her again. "Just this. That's all we'll do."

  She laughs because I keep kissing her. "Jake, come on. Let's go."

  We leave and go to her dad's house. It's a small house in an older neighborhood. My dad did some repairs on houses around here a few years ago. I helped him on one of them.

  "Dad, we're here," Ivy yells as we go in the door.

  "In the kitchen," he yells back.

  I follow her past the small living room into the eat-in kitchen. It could use a remodel as well. The tile backsplash has some cracks and the linoleum floor is old and dated and dented in a few places.

  Ivy's dad is standing at the sink, drying his hands on a towel. He's average height, thin, with fair skin and blond hair that matches Liza's. It's clear Ivy was adopted.

  "Hey, Dad." Ivy gives him a quick hug.

  "Hi, honey." He puts his eyes on me as they hug, and keeps them there as he lets her go. "You must be Jake." He extends his hand. "Steve Nikols."

  I shake his hand. "Jake Wheeler. Nice to meet you."

  "I know your father. We did a few projects together back in the day. Mostly home remodels. I hear he isn't doing those anymore."

  "He still does them, but not as many. We've shifted the company's focus more to commercial remodels and restoring historic buildings. That doesn't leave us much time to work on private homes, but we still take those jobs when we can. In fact, my brother's working on one right now. I'm going to help him with it this weekend."

  "I'm going with him," Ivy says. "I'm going to learn how to lay tile so I can help with the bathroom."

  "About that," Steve says. "You need to let me pay you something, Jake. I can't let you do that for free."

  "Don't worry about it. You're actually helping me out. I haven't done a bathroom remodel for a while. This will help ke
ep my skills up."

  "Jake does a lot of the sales calls now," Ivy says. "He doesn't do as much construction as he used to."

  "You miss it?" Steve asks.

  "Yeah, I do. But I also like the sales side of things, so I try to do a little of both."

  Ivy motions to the hall behind us. "Dad, Jake needs to go take some measurements of the bathroom."

  Steve smiles at her. "You could at least let me talk to him for a minute. You didn't even offer him a drink."

  Ivy gives him an annoyed stare. She didn't want me meeting her dad, and now that I'm here, he's going to question me and make sure I'm good enough for his daughter. That's another reason I never dated. I didn't want to deal with the protective father thing. I totally get it. I just didn't want to deal with it. But meeting Steve doesn't bother me. He seems like a good guy, and I'm not worried about him questioning me.

  Ivy sighs. "Would you like something to drink, Jake?"

  "I would," I say, smiling at her. "I'll take a pop if you have it. Any kind."

  She walks over to the fridge while her dad and I take a seat at the kitchen table.

  "So tell me about yourself, Jake," her dad says.

  Ivy sighs again as she sets down my can of pop and slumps into the chair next to mine. She's hating this, which makes me want to laugh. I get the feeling she doesn't usually bring guys home to meet her dad.

  Steve asks me tons of questions and I answer them, calm and relaxed, taking my time. Then we get on the topic of football and soon we're comparing players, listing out stats, making predictions for next season. We talk for almost an hour and Ivy is bored out of her mind.

  "I'm just gonna go watch TV," she says, getting up from the table. "I can't take this anymore."

  I chuckle. "Sorry. If you get me started on football, sometimes I can't stop."

  "I'm the same way," Steve says. "Although Ivy and Liza never want to talk about it with me."

  "I talk about it," Ivy insists, "but not for hours like you two do."

  I stand up. "I should get those measurements. Oh, and I also need to know what you're thinking in terms of what you want done in there."