by Molli Moran
I’m as nervous as I would be if I really did have a boyfriend coming over for a meet-the-folks dinner. The only problems? Jake obviously isn’t my boyfriend, and this particular guy has already met my family. He taught Cassidy how to ride a bike. He and Wes worked on Wesley’s motorcycle together. He went fishing with Wesley and my dad. He slept in the spare bedroom a time or two. He snuck in my window a few times, but never for anything romantic. He held me through the night when my first serious boyfriend broke up with me, and the only reason Daddy didn’t have a heart attack when he found us curled up together the next morning was because it was Jake, and because we were fully dressed.
Jake is imprinted on so many of my memories, both good and bad. I’m half-afraid I’ll just shatter when we pretend during dinner. Over the last week, I’ve asked myself more than once if I should call this off before it’s too late, but I’ve talked myself out of it. It’s the best alternative, or so I’ve convinced myself. Sloane would probably tell me that I’m indulging in some freaky wish fulfillment thing, and maybe I am. But this only has to last tonight and a few more days, then we can “break up” and I’ll have some room to breathe for a while.
Hopefully.
When my blue eyes dim, I spin away from the mirror. My old bedroom is a computer room now, so there luckily aren’t any mementos scattered here. It’s easy to leave and walk downstairs.
It’s harder to go into the kitchen, where Mama is putting the finishing touches on dinner. She’s humming. Actually humming some happy tune. All she needs are little Disney birds fluttering around her shoulders. Mama has been ecstatic since I told her my news, claiming it’s past time Jake and I got together. She’s always adored him, just like the rest of my family does. Just like I do.
“Oh, Sophie, you’re ready.” My mom faces me, a dishtowel thrown over her shoulder. “Can you pop the rolls in the oven?” A bright smile plays on her lips.
“Sure.” I nod and open the package of dinner rolls. As I arrange them on a baking pan and brush butter over the tops, I try not to think about the fact that Jake will be here any moment.
We haven’t been alone together since Friday night. Last night was just as busy as Friday was, only instead of karaoke, we had a live band at Freshly Ground. Some of the people Mina said were weekend regulars came for the music, but we had new faces, too. I learned Guyliner’s name is Adam, and we talked about music during my break. I saw Jake once or twice, and we said hello to each other, but that was it. Today I only worked a short shift, and he was in his office the entire time. Every time I thought about going in, I chickened out. I finally sent him a text making sure he was still on for dinner, and he let me know that he’d see me at seven p.m.
Which is in five minutes.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to sit by him and not think about the kiss. It was hotter than any I ever shared with Gideon. In fact, it may have been the best kiss I’ve ever had. No one has ever held me or kissed me like Coop did. Knowing it was an act for him was like…having the best dream of your life, and then waking up alone.
Taking a series of deep breaths that feel more like gasps, I put the rolls in the oven and set the timer. I help Mama set the table, and ignore Cassidy’s teasing remarks, reminding myself that it’s just as surreal for her as it is for me. She’s five years younger than I am, and very much the baby of the family. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had thought Jake was a part of the family as a kid. We have videos of 4th of July picnics with him in them, pictures from family lake outings with us tubing together. Jake loves his family, but he’s always adored mine, too.
When the doorbell rings just as the oven timer goes off, I almost jump out of my skin, then freeze in the kitchen doorway, unable to move. Cassidy brushes past me.
“Go on, sis. I’ll get the rolls.” Her blue eyes dance.
“Thanks, Cass.” I brush my trembling hands on my dress and walk to the front door at an almost normal pace. My dad catches my eye from the living room and gives me a thumbs-up sign, which turns the butterflies in my stomach into full-on birds.
I swing open the door and paste a smile on my lips, but it dies like a wilting flower at the sight of Jake. He’s wearing slacks and a tie (I didn’t even think he owned one) with his dress shirt. His hair is slicked back, and he’s clean-shaven. The sunset backlights him, and it all combines to take away my breath and leave me speechless. Which makes me feel like I’m starring in some twisted romantic comedy.
“Claire.” He smiles that heart-stopping smile, stepping closer. “You look wonderful.” He brings his hands from behind his back, a bouquet of flowers in each hand. He hands me a small bunch of beautiful red tulips. “These are for you.” He holds onto the pansies. “These are for your mom.”
“Thanks!” Am I blushing? Yes, dammit all to hell, I’m blushing. I can feel it. “You look great, too,” I say, proud of myself for managing any words. “Come in.”
He’s been in my house too many times to count, but this feels different. He isn’t here as a friend this time, or to help me babysit Cassidy while my parents go out to eat. He’s here for me, and as much as I’ve tried to deny it, a small part of me wishes it were real—especially after our kiss.
I swallow my disappointment and take Jake’s hand. His fingers curl around mine immediately, and I feel so…tethered. I’ve always needed a sense of belonging, but I've never felt it with anyone like I do with him. He holds my hand like he never wants to let go, and I decide to live in the moment. If this is all pretend, if it’s just a fantasy, a soap-bubble dream that will pop and end soon, I’m going to make the most of it.
“Are you ready for this?” He raises his eyebrows, his eyes dancing.
“I was born ready.” I flash a grin at him, forcing a confidence I’m not sure I really feel. Then we walk into the house hand-in-hand.
After that, it’s a blur of Jake giving and receiving hugs. He and my dad shake hands and he kisses my mom’s cheek. When Jake sees Cassidy, he picks her up and spins her around. She shrieks at him to put her down, but I can tell she loves it. Her blond hair is a mess when he finally sets her on the ground, but she pulls him close for a hug and they talk quietly for a few minutes.
I watch all of it unfold with a smile on my lips. This is all so very familiar. I can tell from their reactions to him that my family missed Jake just as much as I did. Mama told me that they’ve seen him a time or two since he moved home, but this is the first time we’ve all been together in one place. The only one missing is Wes, who couldn’t get away from school this weekend because he has exams.
“If everyone’s ready, Cassidy and I will bring in the food,” Mama says. I move to help her, but she waves me away, beaming. “No, you and Jake and your daddy go on and get seated.”
I look at Jake, and he shrugs. With a smile on his lips, he takes my hand again. My heartbeat is almost normal this time. We go into the dining room and take seats beside each other. Dad sits at the head of the table as usual, and starts a conversation with Jake about how Freshly Ground is doing. I’m halfway listening as my mom and sister bring in a roast, steamed carrots, potatoes, green beans, and other dishes.
“Claire is doing an amazing job,” Jake says, and I turn my attention to him. I don’t think he’s ever used my full name, but no one’s ever minded–not even Dad. He’s the one who named me Sophie-Claire, after his grandma and his aunt, who raised him when his parents died in a car accident. Everyone else calls me something different, but Dad always uses my given name.
I smile at them, realizing I probably should join the conversation. “It’s a lot of fun. Different from waitressing, because it’s a different crowd. Everyone here is a lot more laid back than in Nashville.”
And it’s true. Folks here don’t mind waiting a minute for their order, and they’ll laugh and chitchat with me while I make their drinks. It’s only my first weekend of work, but I’m enjoying it, and I’ll definitely enjoy the paycheck. I had enough in savings to pay first month’s rent and the deposit on
the apartment, but I’m excited about having a steady income again.
“I never doubted you’d do well at any job.” Dad nods at me, his green eyes sparkling.
“Thanks, Daddy.” I grin, fiddling with my napkin. Jake sees what I’m doing and covers my hand with his. When I go still, we exchange a look. I know that he knows I’m nervous; the gesture is so…him, that it actually helps calm me.
And I stay calm. From then on, it’s the easiest thing in the world to act like Jake’s girlfriend. We talked about a cover story, and decided to keep mostly to the truth. We met in Freshly Ground after I came home, started talking, and one thing led to another. Cassidy claps and I swear my mother swoons. Daddy doesn’t say much, but then again, he never really does. But I know he thinks the world of Jake, and I can tell they’re all happy for us. They believe us, especially when I lean over and kiss Jake’s cheek, my lips lingering on his smooth skin. Cassidy lets out a happy squeal. And the look Jake gives me…
He should have been an actor. Maybe we both missed our calling, because I feel like I’m surrounded in a kind of warmth I’ve never known. Jake gazes at me the way I’ve always wished he would, and there is no breakdown of the my long-cherished fantasy. It’s just how I always knew it would be with us, maybe better.
I feel breathless and beautiful and wanted. I watch the light turn his eyes golden, and for a few seconds, everything but the two of us fades. I completely forget we’re both faking it.
“Who’s ready for dessert?”
My mom’s voice brings me out of my reverie. I look away from Jake and try to regain my composure, but it’s harder to slip back into the role I’ve played so effortlessly for the last two hours.
“I am.” I’m able to force a grin, but it’s a strain now.
While I help Mama with the coconut cake she made, she talks about this and that, but doesn’t hammer me with excited questions about Jake, which means all that is coming later. I keep my voice light as we serve the cake and make conversation. When Jake eventually pushes back his chair, I touch his hand and tell everyone I’ll walk him to the door. I feel like small cracks are spreading across my bright, happy surface, and I know it’s only a matter of time before they begin to show. I need a moment to breathe.
But as we reach his truck, I see a curtain in the front window move, and I boost my smile a notch. I feel my lips trembling. Jake must be able to see it because he turns us so my back is to the house and he’s facing it. Then he touches his forehead to mine for a moment.
“You were perfect.” His cologne floods my senses. It isn’t overpowering—I’m just that close to him. “You are perfect.”
“So were you.” I twirl my thumb ring around and around for something to do, because I’m afraid if I look at him, I’ll start babbling or worse.
Now my mouth isn’t the only thing trembling. He puts an arm around my waist, and carefully pulls me close. I know he’s going to kiss me, and I am in no way prepared for another kiss like the last one. He must know, so he keeps this one gentle, but still lingering. I sink into him, but the kiss ends too soon, and he straightens.
“Goodnight, Claire.” Before I can say anything, he gets in his car and drives into the night. I stare after him, my hand pressed to my lips.
Chapter Nine
I see Jake before he notices me, so I stop walking. It’s not often I get a chance like this. He’s leaning against the front wall of the movie theater, and the light from the marquee is shining down on him. His hair is just long enough that it needs a trim, and as he glances down at his phone, a few dark strands fall into his eyes. He types something, and a moment later, my phone buzzes. I feel my heartbeat increase as I pull my phone out of my purse and unlock it.
You never should have let me pick the movie. We’re watching this new action flick I’ve been dying to see. Can’t wait to see you tonight.
There’s a smile playing at the corners of his lips, and he looks so cute, I can’t help but type a return text. When I look up from my phone, Jake is holding the door for an elderly couple as they enter the theater. I can practically feel myself melting.
Almost there. Action, huh? You’re buying me popcorn and candy for this, Coop.
I watch him laugh as he reads the text. He looks…happy. My phone buzzes a few seconds later.
Wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ducking behind a minivan, I give myself a few seconds to catch my breath. It’s becoming more difficult each day to balance my friendship with Jake, with this pretend relationship. This is our first real “date” since the dinner with my family. Even though logically I know it isn’t an actual date, my mind—or more likely, my heart—is blurring the lines. I know he’s just doing all of this to help me, out of the friendship we had before graduation, and because he is a genuinely good guy. I just hope we can go back to our easy friendship once this is over. I know that’s the only relationship we’ll have, and that on his part it hasn’t changed, but things for me are infinitely more complicated now.
I can do this. Smoothing my skirt as I round the vehicles, I approach him. He still hasn’t seen me, so I drink in a final unabashed glance. He has his hands in his pockets and his sunglasses on, but when he sees me, he takes them off and smiles. And that smile almost undoes my otherwise successful attempt to appear calm and unflappable.
I can lie to my family, but I can’t lie to myself. I am not calm and I am not unflappable. Truthfully, I’m a teeming mass of first-date nerves, because even though this is all an act carefully choreographed over late nights at Freshly Ground, it feels real. If only to me.
Jake straightens as he catches sight of me. “Hey.” He hooks his sunglasses onto his shirt collar and opens his arms to me.
I walk into them without hesitation. I’m too far into this whole ruse to back out right now. I have to follow it through and pray I don’t end up making a fool of myself. Jake is doing a bang-up job of straddling the line between real and pretend, so I better be able to do the same. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean into him. When I kiss his cheek, his scent surrounds me, but I force myself to hold the pose in case anyone is watching.
For probably the millionth time, I realize “dating” Jake wasn’t my most brilliant idea ever. I want to feel confident, but I feel completely unhinged instead.
“Hey.” When I finally put some space between us, he takes my hand before I’m outside his reach. I’m getting better at not letting his gestures surprise me, but I can’t deny that his casual arm around my shoulder, or his hand on the small of my back feels more than friendly.
“Where are you going?” There’s an unmistakable flirtatious tone to his voice. Is he trying to kill me?
I make the mistake of looking at him, and whatever he sees in my face widens his grin. The more flustered I get, the funnier he thinks it is. He isn’t used to seeing me shy or hesitant, much less tongue-tied. I always held my own with him, mostly thanks to bravado and the knowledge that I could never let him see how I really felt about him.
“Bathroom,” I say, tugging my hand free from his. I shove some bills at him. “Get our tickets?”
I don’t wait for his answer before I rush into the theater and make a beeline for the ladies room. Once inside, I lock myself in a stall and sit there letting the seconds tick past. People rush in and out, but I focus solely on getting my breathing under control. After I’ve counted off two minutes, I emerge and splash water on my face. I want to text or call Sloane, but she’s on a date, too. A real one that might actually lead somewhere.
It’s up to me to get myself through this night.
Pushing open the bathroom door, I meet Jake in the concession line. He doesn’t say a word, just makes room for me beside him as we inch forward. When it’s our turn, he orders enough food to feed an army, and I make fun of him the whole way to our theater. Since it’s a late showing, there aren’t many others seeing the movie with us. Jake arranges his feast around him as I dig into my popcorn.
The previews roll, and I let
out an excited squeal when they show a trailer for a film adaptation of a young adult book I read and loved last year. He watches me with a smile as it ends and the beginning credits for our movie show. I don’t think anything of his scrutiny until the movie actually starts. It isn’t an action film.
“This is The Game Changer.” I half-turn to him.
“Yep.” He nods.
“But you hate rom coms.”
Jake’s eyes are amused in the soft light from the screen. He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I can see the other one with Nolan or someone,” he says, and even though his brothers are probably dying to see Ammo Man 2, I can’t believe he did this for me. I’m still awed as I settle back in my seat, munching on my popcorn. “I knew you wanted to see this one.”
Before I can even think about what I’m doing, I lay my head on Jake’s shoulder. When I feel him go stiff, I freeze, afraid to do anything, but he relaxes after a few seconds. We always used to watch movies like this, so I guess I can blame muscle memory, because cuddling like this still feels so damn right. As though no time at all has passed since we’ve sat this way, watching a movie the other picked, debating the merits of each film.
Once I’ve stopped freaking out, I turn my attention to the screen. I’m still hyper-aware of his presence beside me. I know every time he shifts, and I catch little whiffs of his scent a few times. He’s worn the same cologne for as long as I can remember, but he’s mostly always smelled like Jake to me. I would know him with my eyes closed.