Page 58 of Jacob


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Jacob crosses his arms as I work to rearrange our luggage, so I can fit the three suitcases better.

“It’s all that extra underwear,” Noah bites, and Jacob looks even redder. I have to fight the urge to laugh, because he’s fuckingadorablewhen he’s mad.

“You can’t be too careful,” he says bitterly. “You need to be prepared.”

“Seven pairs of underwear for a week is prepared. Twenty-two is overkill. Unless you plan on making a mess, of course.” Noah winks at me, and I can’t help but laugh.

I like this guy. He’s a riot, and clearly he knows how to press his brother’s buttons.

“Goodbye, Noah.” Jacob’s voice kicks up a notch, and I can hear the anger rising. I don’t want to start this trip off on the wrong foot, so I grab his duffel, absentmindedly settling my hand on his back as I lean forward and he stiffens from my touch, flashing his gaze at me with surprise.

“Get in the car, baby,” I say sternly, practicing the endearment. If we are going to play pretend, I need to be as convincing as possible. One night of flirtation and orgasms isn’t enough. I need to be as boyfriendly as possible to makeJacobcomfortable, too.

And I know when I say those words—when I call himbaby—he seems to like that.

His cheeks turn tomato red, and he bites his lip, hard. He doesn’t say anything, but I can see in his eyes he wants to. And I think I know exactly what he wants to say, but he’s not going to say it in front of his brother. I smirk, patting the small of his back to signal him to move. He does, without question, and I open the driver side back door to throw his duffel in. Noah watches us intently with a smile.

“Have fun!” he shouts as I get in the driver’s side.

Jacob shakes his head as he runs his hands over his face, and I let out a chuckle.

“He seems fun.”

“Only to those who don’t share his DNA.”

I turn the car on and the sounds of that super poppyAptsong fill the air.

“You can change it if you want,” I note as Jacob leans back in his seat. He doesn’t say anything as he looks out the window.

“You okay?” I ask.

He doesn’t look at me, letting out a sigh.

“I just like to be prepared,” he mutters. “You never know what will happen. I could eat something that doesn’t agree with me and end up shitting my pants.” I shake my head, my smile growing.

“So, you have enough underwear in case you shit your pants every day? Twice?” I can’t resist teasing him. He makes it too easy, and I love the bratty look on his face, his petulant tone.

It’s like a balm to my soul.

“Obviously,” he says apathetically, but I can see the smirk pull at the corners of his lips.

“Well, unless you have some dastardly food allergy I’m unaware of, I think you’re safe.”

Jacob glances at me. “Nope, no allergies here.”

“Noted.”

He leans forward and turns the dial, searching through the stations.

“Besides…” I say carefully. “If you run into an issue and have no underwear, I’ll just get you some more.” I wink at him, and he shakes his head.

“You just want an excuse to get me out of my pants.”

I can’t help my grin, because even though the words are bitter, his tone isn’t.

“Maybe.” I don’t hide the truth, because there’s no point. If we want this charade to work, we need to be honest with one another, and I meant what I said to him the other day. When it’s just the two of us, he doesn’t have to be the man I hired him to be. He can just be himself. I’d like him to be more himself.

There’s a tense silence as the humor fades and he settles on a station. It’s a Taylor Swift song, one I don’t know the name of, but I’ve heard a lot on the radio. Something about it being a cruel summer and there being no rules. Jacob glances at me for a moment before he looks out the window.