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“I accidentally kept one when I returned the other to Jake,” Jess says, shrugging. “Anyway, you better get going. It’s getting pretty late.”
“Yeah, you should really leave,” Liz says.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jake
As I’m stepping out of the shower, my phone begins to buzz. It’s getting late, and I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone, so I ignore it as I continue getting dressed. I pull on my pajama bottoms and start towel-drying my hair. Lost in my thoughts, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the apartment as I leave the bathroom.
For a moment, I debate ignoring it. There’s only one person I’d be interested in seeing, and there’s no way she’d come here. I’m guessing it’s Dax. He mentioned that he might swing by after his date, even though I told him I’d prefer to be alone. If I ignore him long enough, he’ll likely go away.
Then again, if I ignore him now, he’ll just hound me tomorrow. That’s the unfortunate part of being in a close-knit family. They feel like they need to be involved fully in my life, even when I’d rather be left alone. He didn’t take the subtle hints that I need some time to myself, so I may just need to tell him toget lost.
Grudgingly, I swing open the door, prepared to tell Dax I’m too tired to entertain him tonight. But it’s not Dax who greets me.
“Lana?” Unable to hide my shock at seeing her, I’m at a loss for words.
“Hi, Jake.”
I wish I could read the thoughts in her head with those two simple words. Her facial expression and body language gives nothing away. Unable to help it, I feel a surge of hope flow through me.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask, hope pouring through my words. My easy charm and usual self-confidence seem to have deserted me as I wonder why she is here.
She looks at me curiously, like she is unsure of what to do. “Okay, sure. I need to ask you about something.”
As she heads past me, I breathe in the sweet scent of her shampoo. When she sits on the couch, I take my first good look at her. She is dressed in an oversized T-shirt, fuzzy pajama bottoms, and bunny slippers. Yes—bunny slippers. And she looks adorable. And sexier than she has ever looked before.
She can wear all of the sexy lingerie and look hot as hell, but this is how I can imagine seeing her when we’ve had a long day at the office and want to relax. I think about how we could sit and talk about our day and discuss our problems together. We could make plans to spend time together on the weekend and go on vacations.
It shocks me to my core to realize that I’m imagining a time when I could have someone to come home to. No, not just someone. Someone who has been in my thoughts nonstop since the day I met her. Someone who makes me realize that I want to share my life and don’t want to be alone.
She looks lost and unsure on the couch. I’ve never seen her quite like this. I need to tread lightly, but knowing she came here gives me something to work with.
“I assume you got the flowers? Is that why you are here?” I speak softly into the quietness of the room. Unsure of her feelings, I move slowly to sit beside her. She doesn’t move away or make any move to distance herself from me.
“I got them. They’re beautiful. But, Jake, why did you send them? I thought I made it clear that any sort of relationship between us is over.”
“You made it clear, but I don’t accept it.”
“I’m not getting into this again. You have a bazillion women out there who would jump at the chance to date you. There are women who grew up around money and fame and love this lifestyle. That woman is not me, and it could never be me.”
“Then we’ll move to the country,” I growl in frustration. “I don’t give a damn about any of this. Do you think I care about this apartment? Or care about living in the city? I hate the press, the tabloids. It’s not me, either!”
“You grew up with this life. It’s a part of you,” she says softly.
“You’re right. And I would give it up in a second if it meant we could build a life together.” There, I said it. I’ve never felt more vulnerable and open in my life. Not one to show my feelings, my hands are clenched and sweating as I anticipate her rejection.
When I look at her, I see a sheen of unshed tears in her eyes. If only I could know what she is thinking, what she is feeling. It tears me up inside to have this uncertainty hanging over us.
When she slowly swings her eyes to look at me directly, her tears still held back, I hold my breath and wait for her response.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Of course, anything.”
“Jake, did you give money to Hopeful Beginnings?”
I slowly exhale and frantically search for a response to her unexpected question. She was never supposed to know about that. I can’t lie to her. Not that it would make any difference. She obviously knows about it, or she wouldn’t be asking. I try to read her expression, but she is hiding her thoughts.
