Page 3 of Jake Forever
I felt a familiar hand on my knee and turned to meet Jake's eyes. The humor in them was gone, replaced by a look I knew all too well.
"Yeah," he said. "Youdon't know the guy. ButIdo." He flicked his head toward the nearby side exit, and it suddenly hit me that it was probably no accident we were sitting so close to an easy out. Even at regular restaurants, Jake picked tables like this all the time, whether there was trouble brewing or not.
For all his easy ways, he had a paranoid streak that was more than a little scary.
Into my silence, Jake spoke again. "So if anything happens, listen to what he says, alright?"
"If anything happens?" I swallowed. "But you never told me. What's going to happen?"
"Eh, hard to say. Depends on Dorian."
None of this was making any sense. But by now, I should be used to it. With Jake, things tended to get a little crazy – because Jake was, well, Jake.
To me, he was the guy I'd been crushing on for years, starting when I'd been a bratty twelve-year-old back in our hometown. And Jake? He'd been the teenage bad-ass who, to my infinite frustration, had treated me like some sort of little sister – and not the dream-girl I wanted to be.
I met his gaze, and my stomach gave a funny little flutter. He wasstilla bad-ass, a tattooed, muscle-bound thing of beauty with a quick brain and wicked sense of humor. But these days, the sister-treatment was long gone.
I felt myself smile. He especially hadn't treated me like a sister this morning, when he'd given me three orgasms and waffles for breakfast.
Watching him now, I felt that thrilling warmth in all the right places. It was making it hard to think. Just above my knee, his hand drifted higher. It wasn't obscene, but itwasa promise. I could feel it in his fingers, the hint of what might happen later, once we were alone.
My mouth grew dry, and I felt my tongue brush the back of my teeth. I liked being alone with him. In fact, I was kind of wishing I was alone with him now.
I gave my head a quick shake. Damn it. He was distracting me again. Probably, he was doing it on purpose.
Talk about devious.
Steeling myself, I tried again. "Seriously, what are you gonna do? You're not gonna start a fight with him, are you?"
"Me?" He grinned. "Never."
My gaze narrowed. Technically, Jake never started fights, but he had a funny way of finishing them. It was the reason he was rich, and yeah, famous if you knew where to look.
Unlike Dorian, who made his money on the big screen, Jake had builthisaudience on the internet, where he had twelve-million rabid subscribers, consisting of frat boys, mixed-martial arts fans, and slobbering groupies who sent him more suggestive pictures than I cared to think about.
I glanced to my left and saw Trey pulling out a small video recorder. He was grinning like he always did right before everything hit the fan.
Mentally, I braced myself.
The way it looked, our night was about to get a whole lot more interesting.
And I still hadn't gotten my chicken.
