“So do lots of boys,” I taunt. My anger over him leaving is irrational, but it doesn’t stop the flood from rising. Jake might have had no choice, but he didn’t fight to stay either.
“You let them touch you?” His lips press into a thin line. “You know what?” Jake grabs my bicep in a rough grip and marches me toward his car. “We’re not doing this here on the side of the road.” I struggle to push Jake away, but his strength is ridiculous. He yanks open the passenger door and shoves me inside. With my body half sprawled across the seat like a sack of potatoes, he leans down and looks me in the eye. “If that venomous mouth of yours has shit to spew, it can wait until after I’ve had something to eat. No one should be forced to battle your anger on an empty stomach, Princess.”
The door slams shut, and he disappears. I wind down the window and stick my head out, yelling, “Screw you, Boy Wonder!” as he walks around the back of the car.
Jake opens the driver’s door and slides in, giving me a sideways smirk. “I’m hardly a boy anymore. You’ll have to come up with something better than that.”
“Asshead,” I mutter.
“Seriously?” He turns the key in the ignition and the car rumbles to life. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“Yes! I’m tired.” My stomach roars like a wounded bear. “And hungry.”
“Well, let’s go eat.”
After ten minutes of driving in tense silence, our windows down and hair whipping in the wild breeze, Jake turns onto a busy street teeming with people and cafes. A car pulls out ahead, and he whips in to the empty space, parallel parking like a boss. Slight resentment steals over me. I’m a shitty driver; there were fights in our household over who had to take me out for parking practice.
Finding a table outdoors in the sunshine, we each order a big breakfast. I sit back in my seat when the waitress leaves, sunglasses jammed on my face as I stare across the table at Jake. “Over two years, Jake. So much for keeping in touch, huh?”
“I know, but we both knew that wasn’t going to happen.” He rests his elbows on the table. “Me leaving was for the best.”
Hurt swells in my chest. “Why?”
Jake turns his head and stares across the busy road, his expression sombre. “Because I’m not good for you.”
“Nice of you to make that decision for the both of us,” I snap.
“It was the right decision, so tuck your little quills away, Mac. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you and a family who loves you.”
“You do too. My family has your back. They always have.”
Jake shrugs. He sits back in his seat and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. My jaw tightens as he taps one from the packet and puts it to his lips. After lighting it he draws in deep before exhaling a long plume of smoke. “They did have …” he acknowledges. “Once. But they don’t now. I’m not their problem anymore, Princess. It’s best just to leave me where I belong. In the past.”
Jake brings the cigarette back to his lips. Rising in my seat, I reach across and snatch it from his fingers. His brows wing up. “Get over yourself,” I hiss and toss it out on the street, barely missing two pedestrians strolling by. I turn back to Jake with a hard glare as I sit back down. “If I’d known you were planning a pity party, I would’ve ordered cake.”
His lips twitch and my nostrils flare.
“You think this is funny, Mr, I’m No Good For You? You have the exact same future I do, Jake Romero. And if you want to throw it away because you think you’re not good enough, then feel free. Just don’t expect me to stick around and watch you do it.”
I stand and collect my bag. The waitress chooses that moment to deliver two steaming plates piled high with bacon, eggs, sausage, toast, and beans. The delicious scent sets my nostrils quivering. My attempt at fighting my hunger is pathetic. I don’t do starving. It makes me irrational and lightheaded. I lose the battle and sink back in my seat, setting my bag on the ground by my chair. “Well it would be a shame to let this go to waste. I’ll eat first. Then I’m leaving.”
“Mac?”
I glance up, fork already in hand and poised over a rasher of bacon. Jake’s eyes are soft as he looks at me, and I know right then and there that I’m not going anywhere. His voice is a little hoarse when he speaks. “I missed you too.”
JAKE
The words leave my lips before I can halt their escape. Moron, I curse silently when pleasure lights Mac’s pretty face. She’s somehow managed to drop from the sky and into my lap. I can’t believe it, and I can’t deny how good it feels to have her with me again, but she can’t stay. It’s not safe for her. I’m not safe. “But yes, you’re still leaving,” I add.
She shrugs and stabs at a slice of bacon with her fork.
The nonchalance doesn’t fool me. “Alright?”
I need to be sure. Say the words, Mac.
“Of course. Leaving. If that’s what you want.”
“Actually, what I want is to know how the hell you got here in the first place.” The very mention takes me back to finding her ambling along the road, blonde hair tangled and gleaming bright in the sun, the skirt of her dress swirling around those pretty tanned thighs. My temper riles. “And what the hell do you think you were doing hitchhiking?” I feel a rant coming on and try to pull back, but my anger is like a steam train with faulty brakes. “You were this close…” I growl, holding up my thumb and forefinger an inch apart for emphasis “…to being picked up by some serial killer and having all the skin peeled from your body. If I hadn’t—”
“Jake, don’t be dramatic.”
What in the actual fuck? My knuckles whiten around the knife and fork in my hands. I stab a piece of grilled mushroom and shove it in my mouth, chewing furiously.
“It’s hardly Wolf Creek territory here in Melbourne’s outer suburbs,” she adds, snorting.
Her cavalier comment makes me livid. I suck in a sharp breath and a piece of mushroom lodges in my throat. “Arrghh!”
Mac stands and leans across the table. Her little fist thumps my back with surprising force. “…and besides,” she says, still chattering as she delivers her mighty wallops, “I can take care of myself.”
The mushroom flies from my mouth and lands on the table. Mac ignores the offending object and calmly takes her seat. She picks up her fork and spears another rasher of bacon.
I stare at her from across the table. “How can you be so smart and yet so mentally challenged all at the same time?”
And so damn pretty it takes my breath away? Mackenzie Valentine is evolving into a great beauty, the kind so imposing it hurts if you stare for too long.
Her brow furrows. “Why are you mad? If I’ve learnt one thing, it’s to never sit back and let life come your way. You have to get out there and fight for it. So that’s what I’m doing.”
I can’t refute her assertion, but there’s a right way to go about fighting for it and then there’s a dumb way. Mac chose the latter. And now she’s here when she shouldn’t be, and I’m a selfish asshole because I don’t want her to leave.