Chapter 47

I stared up at him. "What are you talking about?"

"The 'thing' that Vince wants to steal," Jake said, "is you."

"Oh stop it," I said. "He does not." I forced out a laugh. "I mean, he already has Bianca, right?" I lowered my voice with mock sincerity. "I think his work here is done."

"You think it's a joke?" Jake said.

"Of course it's a joke. I've met the guy like two times."

"Yeah," he said. "You did. And if you think he's not interested, you're nuts."

"Fine. Then I'm nuts."

"And," Jake said, "he knows you're important to me."

"How would he know anything?"

"He's smart," Jake said. "He knows."

"How?" I repeated.

"He knows me."

"Yeah? Well here's what you need to know," I said. "Vince showed zero interest in me last night."

Jake's gaze met mine. "Right."

"It's true," I said. "I mean, he was friendly. But not friendly-friendly."

"You disappointed?" Jake said.

My jaw dropped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The way it sounds," Jake said, "You showed interest in him."

"Get real. I did not."

"Uh-huh."

"Oh come on," I said. "Is this because Bianca said I was 'drooling' over him? Seriously? You're gonna believe her? Over me?"

Jake glanced away. "Forget it."

"No," I said. "I want an answer. Who do you believe? Me? Or Bianca?"

Jake said nothing, and I felt my temper rise. I liked him. I liked him so much, it hurt. And probably, I had always been at least a little in love with him. But enough was enough. Maybe it was time to call my sister for that ride.

Looking for my phone, I turned away.

Jake's voice, quieter now, carried across the small distance. "You," he said.

I didn't bother to look at him. "What?"

"I believe you."

"Yeah. Sure you do." I scanned the nearby bed and spotted my phone on the far pillow.

"Luna," Jake said.

I whirled toward him. "What?"

His dark gaze met mine. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too," I said, turning back toward the bed.

I felt a hand on my elbow. "Just listen," he said.

With a sigh, I turned to face him. 

"I'm an asshole," he said. "I know that." He pushed his free hand through his hair. "But do me a favor. Pretend I'm not. Okay?"

I gazed up him. Standing there, he looked so tough and so forlorn, with his muscle-bound body and haunted eyes. I didn't know what to say.

Somehow, I managed to speak. "I don't even know what you mean by that."

He let out a long breath. "I mean," he said, "let's get the hell out of here. Forget Bianca. Forget Vince." His voice softened. "Forget all the stupid shit I said."

Desperately, I wanted to. It would be so nice to hit a rewind button, to go back to this morning – before Bishop, before Bianca, before talking to my sister, and before the Vince thing, whatever it was.

As if sensing my weakness, Jake moved closer. He leaned toward me until our lips might have touched. "Say yes," he said.

I felt myself swallow. I'd like to say yes to a lot of things. I felt the threat of a smile.

He moved a fraction closer. His voice was very quiet. "Come on. Say yes. You know you want to."

He was right. I did want to. But unfair or not, I wanted something in return. "If I forget everything you said, will you forget about me hiding in your closet?"

Finally, his lips brushed mine. "Done."

An hour later, we were strolling through the same mall I'd visited with Bianca. But this time, I was actually having a good time. Okay, a great time.

As we walked from store to store together, I had to laugh. "You know what?" I told him. "I can't believe we're actually at the mall."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because when I was in high school, this would've been my ultimate fantasy."

He gave me a sideways glance. "Shopping?"

"Actually," I admitted. "It would've been shopping with you."

His eyebrows rose. "So, you wanted to shop with me?"

In truth, I had wanted to do a lot of things with Jake. Some of those things, I had done this morning. And last night too. And if my luck held out, I'd be doing those things again before I slept. Part of me wanted to those things right now, maybe in the back seat of his car, or in some abandoned dressing room.

What was it about Jake that brought out my inner hussy?

I gave him a sheepish smile. "I didn't only want to shop with you."

He grinned over at me. "Yeah?"

The guy way too smug for his own good. "Uh, yeah," I said. "I wanted to do each other's hair too."

The smugness disappeared. "Please tell me you're joking."

Jake had nice hair. It was dark and thick with a mere whisper of a wave. Earlier today, it had drifted through my fingertips like silken magic. I wanted to mess his hair up, not style it, or braid it, or brush it, or color it. But Jake didn't need to know any of that. The way I saw it, a little fear might do him some good.

"And after that," I told him, "I figured we could give each other makeovers and talk about boys."

He stopped walking. "Come here," he said, pulling me close.

Laughing I fell into him, savoring the feel of his strong arms wrapped around my waist. Around us, other shoppers circled past, but I couldn't seem to make myself care.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Lemme tell you something," he said.

"What?"

"If you talk about another 'boy,' someone's going to be very unhappy."

"Really?" I pulled away to blink up at him. "Who?"

Jake gave me a cocky grin. "Him."

With an epic eye-roll, I grabbed his hand and tugged him forward. "That's it," I told him. "We're getting facials too."

In the end, we stuck with shopping. And the more we shopped, the guiltier I felt. My old pair of sorry suitcases had held nearly nothing. And the stuff that had been in those things? It was mostly crap. It was cheap, second-hand, or both.

In contrast, the replacement stuff was expensive, brand-name, and stylish. No matter how many times I tried to steer us toward cheaper stores or at least toward the clearance racks, Jake wouldn't hear a single word of it.

Within a couple of hours, we were loaded down with way too many festive shopping bags filled with everything I'd been missing and then some. There were jeans, sweaters, shirts, pants, skirts, shoes, a couple dresses, and enough lingerie to make me blush, especially when Jake threatened to muscle his way into the dressing room to watch me try it on.

Laughing as he tried to drag me into yet another store, I pulled against him. "No," I said. "Seriously. We need to stop."

"Why?" he said, giving me a gentle tug forward. "You tired?"

"It's not that," I said. "But come on." I glanced down at all the bags. "This is way too much, and you know it."

He propelled us forward anyway. "How do you know what I know?"

I knew he was spending a lot of money. And I knew I'd never be able to repay him. And yet, I also knew he didn't expect me to.

In some ways, it was absolutely wonderful. In other ways, it just didn't seem right. But for the last couple of hours, I had argued nearly to the point of awkwardness. If I argued any further, I'd just be ruining the fun for both of us. Plus, he'd threatened to make me walk back if I gave him any more trouble.

I recognized a bluff when I saw it. But it was such a sweet bluff that I couldn’t call him on it. So I smiled up at him and tried a different approach. "For one thing," I said, "I know you haven't bought anything for yourself."

He flicked his gaze toward the nearby store. "I will," he said. "In there."

I glanced at the sign above the entrance. "But that's a woman's store," I said. "They don't even sell guys' stuff."

He grinned. "I know." He tugged me forward. "Now come on."