Page 56 of Jake Forever
He was no prude, and he didn't mind me dressing sexy. I knew that firsthand.
But hewasprotective. And I didn't need a crystal ball to tell me that everything would've been fine if only that guy – Moe – had just minded his own damn business.
Desperate to put all of this behind us, I tried again. "Oh come on, Jake. That guy was totally wrong. He got you worked up for nothing."
Okay, that wasn't quite true. In reality, I had a sneaky suspicion that my poorly timed walk could've ended a lot differently. But saying so wouldn’t make Jake feel any better now, and if nothing else, I owed him a certain peace-of-mind.
Going for a distraction, I said, "And a little rain isn't gonna kill me. Right?"
But Jake was frowning again. "You think it's the rain I was worried about?"
"No. But I'm just saying—"
"Wanna know why I had your phone?"
Startled by the change of subject, I managed to say, "Um, yeah. That would be really nice, actually."
"I had your phone, because as soon as I got that message – the first one – I called you. You didn't answer."
"Well, yeah, because—"
"So I ran the hell upstairs to grab my car-keys."
I blinked. "Ran?"
"You think I'm gonna wait for the damn elevator?"
"Oh. Sorry." I wasn't sure why I was apologizing. The building did have that emergency stairway, but no one actually used it, except, apparently for Jake, especially when psychos in gold SUVs got him worked up for no good reason.
"And the whole time," Jake continued, "I'm calling you, thinking, 'Please, fuck, answer.' But you don't." His voice grew ragged on the edges. "And so I'm grabbing the keys, and I heard this ringing. I recognize the ringtone. It's your phone. And I find the damn thing in your purse, where it's not gonna do you a damn bit of good."
He sounded so worked up that I didn't know what to say. Finally, I mumbled, "Yeah. I know. I forgot it."
"You forgot it," he repeated.
"Oh, come on. You don't takeyourphone everywhere."
"Yeah? Well, you're not me."
And there it was again. That same double-standard. Probably, I should be angry. In principle, I guess I was. But looking at him now, so worked up on my behalf, lofty principles seemed kind of unimportant in the big scheme of things.
And, as much as I hated to admit it, Jake did have a point.
It wasn't his fault that I'd ended up on the wrong street at the wrong time. And it wasn't his fault that some psycho had sent him that stupid text. And it sure as heck wasn't his fault that I'd forgotten my phone at a time when he'd been so desperate to get ahold of me.
And hehadbeen desperate. Even now, I could see it in his eyes. I could hear it in his voice. And a few minutes earlier, after he'd practically jumped out of his car to get to me, I could feel it in the intensity of his embrace.
I looked down and stared at my soggy shoes. Never in my whole life had anyone cared so much for my wellbeing. Even when I'd been a kid, my parents had been too wrapped up in their own things to obsess over where we were, or what we were doing.
For most of that time, I'd been doing a lot of things that I shouldn't have been, not that my parents realized half of it. But unlike my parents, Jake was street-smart in ways they could never be. He saw it all and didn't look away when things got bad.
I felt myself frown. Of course, it didn't help that he literally had people telling on me.
Jake's voice interrupted my thoughts. "What is it?"
I looked up. "I dunno. I guess I'm feeling overwhelmed." I gave him a pleading look. "It's been such a crappy day, and then that guy…" I let the words trail off, fearful of igniting yet another argument.
His voice sharpened. "Which guy?"
