Shit. Going home to Jake is going to be even harder than I’d imagined.
6
I had been out so long that by the time I get back to the house, it’s already past seven. I walk in the door, heading for the display table by the entrance. I place my keys down on the top of it and lean my bag against one side. The smell of Chinese food greets me, hitting my nostrils as I follow it into the kitchen.
“There you are. Sorry about earlier. I know I sounded blunt.” Jake’s sitting at the table, eagerly awaiting me.
I take a deep breath and smile as best as I can. “Don’t worry. I know you were just doing your fatherly thing.” I emphasize the word and roll my eyes, but not before I catch Jake slightly cringing at my remark. Maybe he regrets saying that now.
“Yeah, that is probably not the sort of thing I should be saying. Especially when we’re basically the same age and all.” He winks at me, and I almost collapse in a heap.
Why? Why the fuck does he have to be so damn fuckable?
With a cocky grin, he hands me a pair of chopsticks and pulls the little boxes out from the plastic bag in front of me. “Please, sit. I got you your favorite, chicken in curry sauce. I hope that’s okay?”
My tummy growls with anticipation. “Yes, that’s more than okay. Thank you.”
We sit for a while, savoring our dinners. For once, I’m feeling happy. I know being with Jake can be torture, but I feel comfortable with him when he’s like this. He’s always had that way about him—a certain presence which seems to put people at ease whenever he chooses to do so.
“By the way, I fixed the shower for you. It was indeed a faulty valve. It didn’t take long to do, and your showers should be better from now on.”
With a mouthful of chicken, I try my best to say thank you. We smile at each other, and my heart melts. I’d give anything to jump his bones right now.
“Care for a drink at the bar?” he asks, surprising me.
I smile back. “Yeah. That would be great.”
We finish off our food and clear away all the containers before making our way around the dining table we’ve only used once since I came to live here. We used it last year on Christmas Day. It was the first Christmas I had ever felt part of a family.
Jake makes his way around the bar while I sit perched up high on one of his stools. He grabs a glass and dish cloth and starts pretending to dry it. “So what will the lady be having this evening?” Jake raises that cocky smile again, and I almost fall off my chair.
I giggle at his antics, causing it to set him off laughing, too. “I don’t know. Surprise me please, barman.”
He smiles, bringing out a bottle of tequila from the cabinet below and setting down ten shot glasses. I look up at him, eyebrows raised.
Jake clears his throat. “I think we should play a game. It’s called My Favorite Things.”
My surprised expression turns into a frown. “What does that entail?”
I watch as he pours the liquid into our glasses and sets the bottle back down. “Well, we ask each other what a certain favorite thing is, and if one of us doesn’t like the answer, the other has to take a shot.”
I have never heard of this one before, but it sounds like it could be fun. “Right then. Hit me with it, bartender.”
He hovers over me from the other side of the bar, resting his hands on the sides. “What is your favorite cheese?”
I can’t help laughing. “Seriously? Cheese?”
“Yes. Come on. What is it?”
I think for a moment and can only think of one cheese I like to eat regularly. “I like a mature cheddar.” I love other mature things, but that’s something I am definitely not going to get into with Jake right now.
“Cheddar cheese? That’s your answer?” I nod my head. “That’s crap. Take a shot.”
I gasp at his rudeness, but he’s smiling away at me. “Crap? What do you mean crap? Cheddar is very nice, I’ll have you know. There is nothing like a good, mature English cheddar.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “You could have said a fine Stilton or a great French brie, but not cheddar. It doesn’t sound very interesting.”
I tap the bar. “Well, that’s what I like, and I’m not making something else up.” I nod my head once in defiance and pick the shot glass up before knocking it back. The burn is there straight away. “Shit, this is strong!” My throat is so hot that I can barely manage to get the words out.
“Hey, language,” he says abruptly.
I look at him sheepishly. “Sorry. My turn now. What was your favorite toy when you were growing up?”
He smiles triumphantly, and I’m suddenly dying to wipe that grin off his face. “Well, that’s easy. When I was five, my grandmother bought me a G.I. Joe. It was my favorite toy in the whole world, and it became even more sentimental to me after she died a few weeks later. I still have it to this day as a reminder of her.”
I think I hate him. Why did he have to pull that story on me?
“That was unfair, and you know it.”
He starts laughing and clapping his hands. “I didn’t say I would make it easy for you.” He stares a moment. “My turn.”
I sit there, patiently waiting and trying to think of a good question to come up with so I can beat him after. “Okay. What is your favorite food?”
He must be kidding me. Why didn’t he ask me what my favorite book was or my favorite hobby even? Not more of these silly food questions.
“Chicken, I think,” I blurt out.
He shakes his head in disappointment. “You know you’re making this too damn easy, right? Drink.”
I slap my hand down on the bar to make my frustration known before resolutely downing the shot. This time, the burn isn’t as fierce as it was at first. My head’s already feeling a little fuzzy, though. I’m definitely not used to doing shots.
I sigh, trying to think of a good question—one that is just as useless as his have been. “What is your favorite alcoholic drink?”
He smiles again, but I feel this will be hard to answer, considering how boring the answer is bound to be. I assume he’ll pick beer, and you can’t get much more boring than beer.
“Well, at the moment, I’d have to say tequila because I’m having so much fun drinking it with you this evening. You make an excellent contender—a little easy, but so much fun, nevertheless.”
I huff my annoyance. “This game is rubbish. Why don’t you just take a shot already?”
His lips curve up into that sexy grin of his. “Did you not like my answer? Are you saying that me enjoying your company is not a good answer?”
He’s good. He’s very good. And I hate him for it. “You are determined, aren’t you?” I’m annoyed as hell.
He stands there, still staring. “I’ll take that as a no then? Do you want to go ahead and just take the next shot now to avoid the embarrassment?”
“You’re a little shit, Jake Bennett. Do you know that?” I say with a chuckle as I shake my head.
He brings his finger up and shakes it in front of me. “N’uh, Ana. You’re just being a sore loser.” He laughs a little before continuing on. “Right. Now, where were we? Okay, what is your favorite car?”