“So, it’s about waist high?”
Jake lifts his chin and crosses his arms. I really hate this shit—manipulating—but I’m doing my best not to make it a blatant lie.
I pull out my phone and start tapping in a search. “Any chance to adjust where it stops? Maybe move the door so it opens where he can walk right in and not use stairs?”
“That’s actually a great idea,” Jake says with a nod. “Makes a hell of a lot more sense than building three sets of stairs. Should have thought of that when I rebuilt the box itself.”
We sit at the table, and Jake draws out a plan. When the bells jingle over the door, we both look back. Sarah’s walking in, carrying coffee. Behind her … Iz.
“Hey there, how was your first night at your new place?”
“Uneventful,” she states as Wile trots in, passes her, and … fuck … beelines it to me.
Iz looks pissed, like super pissed.
I squat down and pet Wile. “You must be a Knights fan.”
He licks me.
“Wile, leave the man alone.” Jake chuckles.
“He’s good,” I say, standing up and looking at Iz. “Hey, Iz.”
“Hey.” She narrows her eyes.
“I have your coffee.” Sarah holds up a thermos.
“Cups?” Jake asks.
“Shit,” Sarah whispers.
Unable to stop myself, I point to the shelf. “Cups over there.”
Iz whips her head in that direction and sees the dicks.
Jake roars out a laugh, and then says, “I’ll go grab some.”
“I’ll come with. You always get the wrong ones.”
And just like that, we’re alone.
“You shouldn’t be?—”
“Wasn’t planned,” I cut her off before her pretty little head explodes. “Your dad was in the parking lot at the stadium, tapped on the window, and asked if I was having car trouble.”
“Nice try. Your vehicle is right there.” She points to the door.
“I told him I was good, passing time before my flight leaves. He asked if I was interested in helping him.”
“You should have said no.”
“Iz …” I shake my head. “Why would I do that?”
“If they find out, I will?—”
“Lemme ask you something.”
“No.”