My dad’s eyes narrow. “Told me what?”
I swallow hard.
And then I lie.
“We’ve been dating for a while,” I say.
The words feel like stepping off a cliff.
Jake’s head turns sharply toward me.
His expression is… strange.
Like he’s watching me do something reckless and trying to decide whether to catch me or let me fall.
My father freezes.
I keep talking before my courage evaporates.
“We kept it quiet,” I add quickly. “Because of… you know. We wanted it to be just about us for a while. So we didn’t tell anyone. No one knows.”
Jake’s eyes burn into me.
I refuse to look at him.
If I look at him, I’ll lose my nerve.
“And we love each other,” I say, forcing the words out evenly. “So much.”
My father’s gaze shifts between us.
“You love each other?” he repeats, like the concept itself is suspicious.
“Yes,” I say firmly, nodding as if this is simple. Normal. True.
I step closer until I’m standing beside Jake and slip my hand into his.
His fingers are warm. For half a second, they’re rigid in mine, like I’ve caught him off guard.
Then they close around my hand.
Firm. Protective.
The contact sends a spark racing up my arm that I am completely unprepared for.
I lace our fingers together like it’s the most natural thing in the world and give him a small squeeze, silently asking him to follow my lead.
He does.
His thumb shifts over my knuckles. Grounding. Possessive.
“We didn’t want to wait,” I continue steadily, “so I moved in with Jake.”
Silence slams into the room after my declaration.
Even the house seems to hold its breath.
Jake’s gaze drills into me like he can’t believe I just escalated the lie.
