Page 28 of The Love Rematch
No.
Even after everything, her answer is no, which leaves her all the more annoyed. She crosses her arms, hiding the silhouette of the famous John Bender fist pump, one of Jake’s favorite movie endings. He made her watch it about a hundred times, and each time, she died a little inside when Claire parted with her diamond earring—a perfect brilliant-cut solitaire stud. And she gave it up…for a boy.
Screw symbolism. Relationships come and go, but jewelry is forever.
The left side of Jake’s mouth lifts in a half grin. “You’re thinking about the earring, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“You are. It’s written all over your face.”
“I’m not.”
“Youare.”
“Okay, I am. Sue me.” She throws her hands in the air. “It’s a really stupid ending. What girl would break up a gorgeous diamond set like that—for a guy she spent nine hours with in detention? It’s so clearly written by a man.”
Jake sighs and crosses his arms, leaning against the tiles. “It’s sweet.”
“It’s idiotic.”
“It’s romantic.”
“It’s blasphemous.”
“Are you serious right now?” He pushes off the wall, incensed.
She puts her hands on her hips, not backing down. “I don’t joke about jewelry.”
“It’s not about the earring.”
“That’s easy to say as someone who’s never owned a diamond in his life.”
“Come on, Em. You know why she does it.”
She should stop. She knows she should. And yet… “Why?”
“To show Bender she cares.” He stares at her hard, those blue eyes freezing her in place. “Even if they never speak again, even if everything goes right back to the way it was when they start school on Monday morning, they had a connection. They shared a moment. And to her, that moment had more value than the most precious thing she owned.”
He pauses to swallow. His arm lifts. His gaze drops. Emily’s follows, watching in slow motion as he lifts his hand, stretches forward, and presses his pointer finger to her skin, caressing her forearm. It’s barely even a touch, yet her stomach flips.
“He didn’t matter to anyone else in the world,” Jake whispers softly. “But he mattered to her. And she wanted him to know that.”
His eyes find hers.
Are we still talking about a movie?
Emily’s heart lurches.
She looks away, licks her lips, and steps back. “What do you want, Jake?”
“I needed to talk to you, and your room is the only place on this whole property that doesn’t have a hidden camera, or a mic, or a nosy production assistant looking to get ahead.”
Suddenly, the shower and the faucets make sense. White noise. Cover. An uncomfortable tickle scratches down her spine, and she shifts her weight. All the exhaustion from the day piles on, along with the realization that he didn’t come here for her. He came for him. To clear his conscience. To get something off his chest. She’s the dirty little secret, the body in the closet, the past he wants to keep hidden.
Well, fuck that.
“If you came here to say something, then say it.”
