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“Huge,” Jake said flatly, and his phone buzzed.
I was close enough to see the message.
Frankie was on her way home. He shoved his chair back and stood.
“I gotta go. She wants to see me, and I want to see her. Yes, I’m spending the night. No, you fuckers don’t get to say a word.” He pinned Bubba with a look. “Figure it out and get ready to grovel. If I think you’re serious…” He made a face. “For Frankie, I’ll help. But it’s her call.”
Then he was gone, not waiting for a response from any of us. Turning back to the table, I met Bubba’s narrowed gaze. “What?”
“You don’t care that she texted him and that he’s going over there to spend the night, again?”
Did I care? I shrugged and took a page out of Jake’s book. Who knew the guy could be so smooth? “Sure I care. I care that she’s not alone. I care that she’s asking for what she needs. Would I love to be the one? Hell yes. But I also know she cares about me. I know she wants me, too. So… I’m good.”
When he turned to Coop, I waited, and Coop grinned. “I only care that I don’t get to see them make out. Jake’s not wrong, it really is hot.”
I laughed. It came out a deep chuckle, and Bubba shook his head. “We’re nuts.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not. So what’s it going to be, Bubba? You in? Or you out?”
I really hoped he made the right choice. Because if we went from five to four, it would take a hell of an adjustment and there would be a Bubba-shaped hole in our lives.
If summer was any indication? I really didn’t want to figure out how that worked.
Chapter Thirteen
Dear Future Self
Life had tough bits, easy bits, and then the complicated bits in between. The easy bits? You had to eat, sleep, pay taxes, and under a certain age, you had to go to school. Yeah, going to school didn’t seem easy, but it was an easy decision.
Go to school.
Do the homework.
Get good grades.
Graduate.
Get the fuck out of here.
All straightforward and easy to define chunks, even if the experience itself fell on the tough end of the scale. The decision whether to stay or to go was easy. I had to go. So I went.
The tougher parts? The complicated ones? Everything else. Friendships. Dating. Kissing. Arguing. Crying. Fighting. Confiding. Those were definitely complicated. Difficult, but not impossible. Challenging, but also rewarding. Even the arguing.
Yes, I said it.
Even the arguing.
Breaking up? That hurt. It had hurt Ian when I said it, and it hurt me the next day, even after waking up with Jake right there. He hadn’t asked me about Ian, and I hadn’t told him. His face looked as bad as Ian’s had. It looked even worse in the morning.
“Don’t worry, baby girl,” he teased me. “I’ll get pretty for you again.”
I groaned and then kissed his nose, his chin, and the one undamaged corner of his mouth. Guilt gnawed on me a little. I wanted to smother Jake in care, but I’d resisted it with Ian the night before. He’d looked like hell, but if I’d given into the urge—no. He had to figure him out.
“Hey,” Jake murmured, cupping my face. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”
“You’re not in jail,” I said, leaning into his touch. “That’s an amazing thing.”
“Agreed.”
