Blushing, I turn to the two guys and then point to my mom. “Did you hear that?”
“That she called you James?” Jake says.
“No,” Travis corrects. “She got the full-name treatment. That means ‘you done good’ in our house.”
My hand slaps my brother’s in an epic sibling high-five before we turn in a circle and bump our hips together. It’s the Richards kids’ dance of happiness, and we've not done that in a long time.
“What are you doing?” Jake asks, but no one is listening. My mother is still moaning as she swallows the sugary concoction I created.
“That was heaven, my dear. You’re going to kill it at the dinner.” She grabs another truffle from the plate, this one milk chocolate. “Do you have a server helping you?”
“Ah, no,” I say, my happiness suddenly crashing when I see the look of disappointment wash over her face. “But I can find one. No problem at all. I’m sure Georgie can help.”
My mother’s stern expression is back. I feel like she’s judging me for this one item I’ve not handled. “Just make sure they get the full treatment. Your reputation is mine, got it?”
“Got it.”
“Well, we’re all done, then. Let me know how it goes.” She then turns to Travis. “Your father wants to see you before you take off.”
She heads back out to the dining room, with Travis right behind her. He stops at the door, then turns back to me.
“Don’t let her get to you. She told me it was excellent. She just wants you to do a good job because she loves you. Okay?” He then waves to Jake. “Talk to you later this week. We’ll sort out the details tomorrow, cool?”
As the door swings shut, I turn to face Jake, who is starting to laugh. I throw a towel at him, which he ducks, of course.
“So can we go out now?” he asks, his tone teasing.
“Help me get this place cleaned up, and then I’m free.”
Cleaning the kitchen and loading my car took no time flat with both of us doing it. If I’m not mistaken, I think Jake was going faster than a normal person would, but I know I was, too. One moment of weakness in a food pantry and now all I want to do is get those lips on mine again.
Back in town, I park near the fountain. Jake spots the ice cream shop that’s still open, so we order an ice cream cone each and then make our way back over to our fountain and sit on its edge.
I like thinking it’s our fountain, even though we’ve only sat on it together one other time. Before he sits down, Jake suddenly pops up and jogs back to the ice cream shop, returning a moment later jangling a few loose coins in his hand.
When he sees my quizzical expression, he opens his hand, showing me the dimes scattered on his palm.
“For wishes.” He’s so matter-of-fact, like I should have known. And it’s adorable.
“Is this really the guy who Sports Center said was a bomb of anger ready to explode?” I ask.
“They got it wrong, obviously,” he chuckles, licking his ice cream. “I’m the first to admit I can be moody. But the day I got into the fight with my teammate was more about morals and principles than anything else.”
I can see my opening to tell him about Todd, but there’s something in his demeanor that tells me he wants to keeptalking. I feel like Jake is akin to the best piece of candy out there that you can find: it’s coated in a thick chocolate shell that’s impenetrable. It’s hard and crusty, maybe even a little bit thicker than you’d like, but when you break it open and get to its warm, caramel, gooey center, it’s worth all of the wait and the work behind it. So I stay quiet and eat my ice cream.
“I’m not proud of it, you know,” he says, dark brown eyes slamming into mine. “But, this guy is such a tool. He spent a lot of practice time talking about his conquests.”
A feeling of sick hits the back of my throat. “Conquests?”
“He’s a serial dater. He was dating two girls at one time, could have been a third in the mix, but none of them knew about each other.” Jake leans forward, elbows on his knees as he stares at the round. “I knew there was one he was dating that was long distance, but the other two were locals. I’d see them at games or out with him at dinner sometimes. And it just was…weird.”
Curiosity starts to get the better of me. “When was this?”
“Let me think…” Jake pauses. “You know, he was dating all of these women at the same time, around three months ago, but I didn’t say anything until two weeks ago. That’s when the fight happened.”
I do the math, and a mix of sadness and surprise kicks me in the gut realizing that I’m most likely the long-distance woman he’s talking about.
“So you didn’t like that he was seeing all these people at once, but you waited to bring it up?”
