I glance sharply over at Jake, noting the way his entire demeanor has suddenly changed. “What’s wrong?” I say, placing my hand on his knee. He stiffens. “Jake—”
“Don’t,” he mutters. “Please—just—” He removes my hand from his knee and I feel it like a punch to the gut.
“What the hell is going on?” I press. “You just said ‘it’s fine.’ What does that mean?”
“You don’t want this,” he replies, still not looking at me. “You don’t want me. He’s the better fit, I get it.”
My gaze darts open-mouthed over to Caleb and he groans. “Jake, you’re a fuckin’ idiot—”
“Say it again when we get out of this car,” Jake snaps, his shoulders now suddenly twice as broad. He leans across me, pointing a finger in his face. “Don’t fuckin’ push me, Cay.”
“Whoa—stop—” I throw both my hands out to either side.
“What’s that?” the Uber driver calls. “Stop here?”
“No,” the three of us say at once.
“Actually, yeah,” says Jake. “Let me out. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
“Okie-dokie,” the sweet blonde says, pulling over.
“Jake, no,” I cry. “This is crazy—”
He’s out before I can even snatch for his shoulders, slamming the car door in my face. Caleb already has his side open, following him out.
“Jeez, he’s pretty upset,” the driver murmurs, eyes wide as she watches Jake storming off, Caleb jogging after him. “Want me to wait? Or take just you back to the hotel?”
“No,” I reply. “I have to deal with this.”
I slide out Caleb’s open door, following after them.
It’s nearly one in the morning. All the restaurants and businesses on this street are closed. A few have glowing signs—Chinese takeout, a laundromat, a dive bar. Rock music filters out an open door as I rush past, chasing after my hockey players.
My heels click on the sidewalk. God, my feet are killing me. I’m within an inch of flinging these heels off and running barefoot.
“You’ve got it totally backwards, man!” Caleb calls after Jake.
“Don’t tell me what I see with my own fucking eyes.”
Caleb catches up, grabbing Jake by the shoulders. “Don’t do this. Don’t close off. You want to talk, so let’s talk—”
“I don’t wanna talk,” Jake growls. “I can’t do this here. Not now.”
I catch up, panting. “Jake, talk to me before I scream. What the hell was that back there?” I gesture to where our Uber is still parked down the street. “One minute we’re all blissed out from a three-way orgasm, and now you’re running like a ghost is chasing you. Make it make sense.”
He holds my gaze, those gorgeous hazel eyes full of so much pain. “Rachel, I can’t do this anymore.”
My breath catches as Caleb’s dark brows narrow in confusion. “Do what?” he says, glancing between us.
Jake looks to me, waiting for my permission. Even now, he’s willing to keep us a secret. Or maybe this is a test? He wants to know what our secret is worth to me. Am I willing to tell Caleb the truth? The pain on his face has me stepping forward, grabbing his hand. “I know this has been hard for you. It’s been hard for me too. I never expected this. Neither of us did.”
“Expected what?” Caleb says, his obsidian gaze darting between us. “How long has this been going on between you two?”
“Almost four months,” I reply, my eyes still locked on Jake.
I wait for Caleb to catch up. There’s no way Jake didn’t tell him about me. I’m waiting all of five seconds before Caleb is cursing under his breath. “Oh, fucking hell,” he mutters. He glares at Jake. “You kidding me right now, asshole? She’s your Seattle Girl?”
Slowly, Jake nods, his eyes still on me.
“Oh, fuck,” Caleb says again, dragging his hands through his tousled hair. “Why didn’t either of you say anything?”
“She told me not to,” Jake replies, his tone flat.
Caleb punches his arm. “Yeah, well I’m your best fucking friend. And I’m pretty sure secrets go out the window when you invite me to face fuck your dream girl in a closet!”
“She didn’t want anyone to know,” says Jake, glaring in my direction.
“Why the hell not?”
Jake shrugs. “You’d have to ask her. Rachel gets to call all the shots, apparently. But my guess is that she’s ashamed of me.”
His words knock out all my air. I gasp, hand to my chest. “Jake—what the fuck? Are you serious right now? You tell me if you’re serious, before I cry right here in front of Mr. Chen’s!”
A half-lit dumpling sign flickers behind his head as he crosses his arms. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong!”
“You said we can’t be together because of the contracts you signed,” he says, leveling a finger in my face. “But I talked to Vicki, and she said we just have to sign a ‘we’re together’ form and I can’t see you as my doctor.”
My eyes go wide. “You asked Vicki about me? When?”
“The day you showed up in my goddamn parking garage! It’s not a big deal, Rachel. With the shredding of one document and the signing of another, we can be together. And I think you know that,” he adds. “You just don’t want me.”
How did I not realize the extent to which I was hurting him? He’s always in such a good mood—always smiling, always teasing and laughing and texting me pictures of tacos and pelicans and every cup of coffee he consumes. But this whole time he’s been masking his pain.
“Jake, I’m sorry.”
He stiffens, his last hope shattering.
“Wait—no—” I lunge after him, grabbing his arm. “I didn’t mean—Jake, I’m sorry for hurting you. For not realizing how difficult this was for you.”
“Difficult?” he growls. “This has been fucking unbearable, Rachel. Do you know how hard it was to wake up and find you gone in Seattle? Do you know what I felt seeing you again? How I’ve suffered knowing you’re in my city, in my goddamn ice rink, on my bus, in my gym, on my plane—you’re fucking everywhere. All day. Every day. And I can’t fucking touch you! Can’t kiss you. Can’t feel this heart beating under my hands.” He splays his hand over my chest.
“I’m not eating, Rachel. Not sleeping. I can’t concentrate on or off the ice. Ask Cay, he knows,” he adds. “He’s been bugging me for weeks wanting to know what’s wrong. You’re what’s wrong.”
I raise a hand, wrapping it around his wrist. “Jake—”
“I’m in love with you, Rachel. And you can say that’s crazy, but I’m not some lovestruck fool that falls for any girl at the first flick of her lashes. You turned around on that barstool in Seattle, and I just knew. You’re the one.”
I’m crying now, my head shaking. “Jake, you don’t even know me—”
“I do know you,” he counters, cupping my face with both hands. “I know you and you know me. We proved that in Seattle. I may not know the name of your high school or your favorite salad dressing, but I can learn. I want to learn them. Give me a chance, baby, please.”
My hands go back to his wrists, pulling his hands from my face. “Jake, you don’t want me,” I say with a shake of my head.
“Don’t,” he growls. “Don’t push me away again.”
“I can’t let you be with me,” I say. “Not in public anyway.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Not in public?” Caleb adds, arms crossed as he glares at me. “What are you, Hurricane? A fuckin’ geisha?”
I fight back the tears that want so desperately to keep falling. “I can’t be with you in public because it would ruin your life,” I admit at last. “I would ruin your life…the way I’ve already ruined mine.”
