‘On good days, he knows exactly who I am. On bad days…’ He exhales. ‘Still, he enjoys spending time together, and it’s good for me, to make up for the lost time. I visited, but my mom needed me on the ranch.’
‘That must be hard,’ I say.
‘It is. But it’s taught me a lot about life, and going for what I want,’ he replies. ‘Makes things real fast and fragile. You stop stressin’ about nonsense.’
I laugh softly.
‘I specialise in nonsense.’
Jake laughs.
I sit up to sip my water, glancing over at him. His face is softer in this light. There’s something open about him now, like he’s taken off his armour. I don’t know why but it feels right to go over to him, to sit down on the floor next to him.
‘I’m really glad you told me,’ I tell him.
He looks up at me.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘It… helps. Knowing why this place matters to you.’
‘It matters because it feels like a future I can hold on to, and one that my dad can be a part of. Somethin’ solid.’
‘Well, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you get it,’ I insist.
‘I appreciate that,’ he replies. ‘Same for you, with your book deal. You just say the word and I’m there.’
He reaches out for my hand and gives it a squeeze.
‘This would look very convincing to an audience,’ I murmur, mostly to hide how nice it feels.
‘Maybe,’ he replies. ‘Although the two of us being on the floor might look a little off.’
‘I’d just say it was a sex thing,’ I joke with a shrug. ‘I don’t know how many times I’ve caught JJ doing something odd, or found something weird at her place, and she’s told me it was a sex thing – and all you can really say is: fair enough.’
He laughs.
‘Well, I’ll let you sleep, but thank you for trusting me with your story,’ I reply.
‘Thank you for listenin’,’ he says.
‘What are fake fiancées for?’ I say as I head back to bed.
21
It’s a knock on the door that yanks me from my sleep. And it’s not a delicate little knock; it’s a loud, repetitive, insistent one. Whoever it is, they’re not going away.
I check my surroundings with one eye – the other isn’t ready to open yet – and see that Jake is still fast asleep.
‘Whitney?’ Cordelia’s voice breaches the door, bright and relentlessly cheerful. ‘Whitney? Jake?’
I sit up straight. Shit! She doesn’t sound like she’s going anywhere.
Jake is stretched out on the rug near the foot of the bed, under his blanket, one arm flung over his eyes like his body has registered the daylight while he’s sleeping but it isn’t ready to get up yet. He looks surprisingly comfortable. But of course he does, he’s Jake. I imagine it’s easy to sleep anywhere when you’re always so laid-back.
The knock comes again.
‘Whitney? Can I come in?’
