“I am of normal size, thank you,” I say as I fold the blanket I was sitting under. “Five-six is hardly small.”
“Maybe,” he says as he stands and towers over me. “But if I look straight, you disappear completely.” He looks ahead, hovering a hand above my head to emphasize his point.
“Ha-ha, very funny.” I nudge him in the chest.
“Oww,” he whines through a smile, his hand coming up to his chest. “Will you stop hitting me, woman?”
“Oh, stop it, baby.”
His eyes sparkle with mischief, turning his smile into that charming grin. “You know, I think I like this you callin’ me baby thing.”
I laugh at his play on my words and decide to go with it. “Oh, yeah? Better than Daddy?” I ask through a smile.
His eyes brighten even more, and his smile widens. “I knew you liked it.”
Butterflies erupt in my belly, and I don’t say a word, worried about what might actually come out of my mouth. We stare each other down, flirtatious curves on our lips, before he breaks the spell.
“This pick-me-up better not include tequila or that tricky game you like to play.” He gestures his head toward the door, and I break myself free from his gaze.
“It won’t. There will be no alcohol included in today’s kidnapping.” I smile, turning on my heels as I walk to the door, Jake following closely behind.
“Oh, so you admit it. Youdotake me against my will.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he says it, and the flirty note in his tone sends a shiver up my spine that lands on my lips.
“You know you love it,” I tease, and a shrill of excitement swims through my body when he responds with, “I do.”
I have to forcefully ignore how it feels like I’m floating. I remind myself I need to keep my feet on the ground and my lips to myself, and never be led astray.
Track 8
“The Very Thought of You” Nat King Cole, 1958
JAKE
“THIS IS YOUR pick-me-up?”
“Absolutely,” Alana says through a smile, her voice light as a cloud. “Ice cream for good days with bad moments. Alcohol for bad days that need good moments.”
“Ah,” I muse. “She has a system.”
“Works like a charm,” she says, licking around the base of her cone before the melting trail reaches her fingers.
I spoon a bit of ice cream from my cup, pretending to focus on it, but my eyes are glued to her. Her grin is fixed as she joyously eats her way through her cookie dough filled waffle cone. A tiny bit gets on her nose, and she laughs quietly when she catches me looking, our feet never stopping their slow stroll to nowhere.
Though the ground is still wet from the afternoon rain and the leaves have begun to change color with the mid-Novemberair, this feels as easy as a breezy summer day. She takes another bite, humming contently, and I swear, it’s the happiest sound I’ve ever heard. There’s something about watching her in her carefree, unguarded spirit that quiets the static in my head. All the white noise I haven’t been able to get rid of becomes a clear tone at the very thought of her.
She takes another bite, a soft hum slipping from her throat as if the taste alone could fix the world’s problems. My mind wanders seamlessly, wanting to know if the taste of her would have the same effect.I bet it’d be better.
“What?” she asks with an innocent smile. I stop midstep and she does the same. I can only stare at her, my eyes falling to the ice cream on the corner of her full lips for a beat before rising to her stormy eyes. Her smile falls a little, as if she can feel exactly what it is my mind is thinking—if her lips will feel as soft as they look. If they’d still be warm even after being pressed against a near-frozen temperature. If the touch of our lips wouldzingthe same way my jaw did from the touch of her hand.
“Is there ice cream on my mouth?” she asks, then wipes her lips with the back of her sweatshirt’s sleeve. My hand moves before I can stop it.
“You missed a spot,” I murmur as I drag the pad of my thumb over the outline of her bottom lip. Of course, she didn’t miss anything. There was nothing there in the first place. I just… I couldn’t resist the chance to touch her.
It only lasts a moment—a second, maybe less—but the sensation of it sears into my body like a branding. My heart pounds against my ribs, the sound deafening in my ears, and I swear the world around us stills. The wind stops blowing. The leaves halt their colorful metamorphosis. The remnants of rain don’t even drip from the leaves that hang above us.
Her breath catches. Her eyes flicker from my mouth and back like she’s fighting the same war I feel right now.
“Jake,” she whispers with a trembling voice.
