Too Friendly to Date

by Nicole Helm

  “Agree.”

  “Yes, it’s such a great idea to tell me what to do. I love taking orders.”

  He grinned. “Would you prefer endearments?”

  “No, I’d prefer...” A million other things over this, but maybe he was right. Maybe alone she’d never convince Mom she was okay on her own, that it was preferable. Maybe if Mom really saw how little influence Jacob had on her life up close and personal, things could change.

  Could they really change? She was starting to think they couldn’t.

  “What do you have to lose, Leah?”

  Aside from him? Nothing. She didn’t want to risk him, or herself over him, but in the fight between her family and herself, it was probably time her family started winning.

  “All right.”

  “Great.” He squeezed her shoulder and when he bent to kiss her cheek she didn’t even flinch.

  “You’re getting better at that,” he said with a grin, linking hands with hers. “Now, I’m starving and whatever was in that stuff your mom brought smelled amazing.”

  “It is. I’m sure it is.”

  “So we’ll eat, and then I’ll go grab some things.”

  Leah nodded, swallowing down the ball of fear in her throat. Sure. Move in. Take over. Share her bed. Yeah, this was going to be so, so, so fine.

  Uh-huh.

  * * *

  JACOB’S RIGHTEOUS ANGER propelled him all the way through dinner, all the way back to his bedroom at MC, all the way through throwing some stuff in a duffel bag. It didn’t sway or defuse until he came face-to-face with Grace.

  “What are you doing?”

  He looked at the bag in his hands and realized he hadn’t thought this through at all. But, well, his friend needed help and he was damn well going to give it to her even if some people didn’t approve.

  “I’m...going to Leah’s.”

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “Some stuff.”

  “Like?” She crossed her arms over her chest, effectively blocking his exit.

  “Mind your own business.”

  “Leah is my business. And so are you.”

  “This isn’t.”

  Grace frowned, lines stretching across her forehead. “What are you doing, Jacob Stuart McKnight?”

  “Do not full-name me.”

  “Spill the beans, or I call Mom.”

  “Seriously? You’re thirty years old and you’re going to call Mommy on me?”

  “Damn straight. You may not be afraid of me, but I know you’re afraid of her. So spill it. What’s going on?”

  “I’m going to stay at Leah’s while her parents are here.” Because Grace had one thing right—he was scared of their mother. Of what she might deduce in her psychoanalysis. Pass.

  “Please tell me you’re not.”

  “It’s just the pretend boyfriend thing.”

  “Jacob.”

  “Yes. I know. You’re worried I’m going to devastate your best friend. Hey, who knows, maybe she’ll devastate me or maybe we’re adults and this will all be fine.”

  “I don’t want anyone devastated.” She glanced at the bag. “Just let me look.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I need to check something.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  “Jacob.” She fixed him with her best big-sister glare, but since he had no idea what she thought he had in the bag, there was no way he was handing it over. Until he knew for sure she’d be wrong.

  “Fine, we’ll do this the hard way. If there are condoms in that bag, I am going to lock you in here.”

  “Jesus Christ. There aren’t condoms.” Not that it hadn’t crossed his mind. You know, just for...safety. Or something. But he didn’t have any. Having condoms on hand would have been cruel and unusual punishment while taking a six-month sex break.

  Which he still had two weeks left of, and he should do well to remember that.

  Right, because Leah’s going to jump into bed with you.

  She did mention your penis.

  Yeah, don’t think it matters.

  Jacob shoved a hand through his hair. Arguing with himself over the likelihood of Leah letting him do anything with his penis was about the bottom of the barrel of pathetic. Especially with Grace watching him like a hawk, casting suspicious glances at his bag.

  “Look, I’m going to help her, not seduce her. So, what is this terrible thing that could happen?”

  “What if she falls in love with you?”

  His heart pitched, and not in the scary kind of way it probably should. “She won’t.” Keep that in mind, heart and penis.

  “But—”

  “But if she falls in love with me she’ll soon see whatever is wrong with me that every other woman has already seen and that will be that. Right? I suck at this, so what if something changes? She’ll dump me and I won’t be bitter about it and everyone will be fucking fine.”

  “That’s...not...”

  “That’s not what?”

  Grace stood in his doorway, hands having fallen down to her sides, mouth hanging open and no words coming out.

  Yup. Exactly. “I’ll see you at Mom and Dad’s on Christmas Eve,” he muttered, brushing past her.

  “Jacob...”

  But he kept walking and in the end she didn’t have anything to say, did she? Because he was right. He’d screw it up one way or another, but he wasn’t going to hurt anyone because that was not what he did.

  He was usually on the receiving end of the hurt, pretending it didn’t. Pretending nothing mattered. So, on some weird offhand chance things went a little sideways with Leah, well, he’d deal, and everything would be fine.

  Which was possibly the most dangerous conclusion he could come to considering he was going to share a bed with her tonight—Walls of Jericho or no Walls of Jericho.

  He drove through downtown Bluff City to Leah’s small house on the other side of town. He tried to focus on all the ways she irritated him, all the ways he sucked, but he kept thinking about her cheek under his palm, the sharp intake of breath. The way her hand had felt in his as he’d led her back to the kitchen after they’d made their decision.

  Right.

  Which was dumb and wrong.

  Irritated with himself, he grabbed the duffel and strode toward the door. What was he supposed to do? Knock? Barge in?

  But before he could decide on either, the front door flew open. “Hi, sweetheart!” Leah’s cheery greeting was super creepy. Almost as creepy as the endearment.

  “Are you okay?”

  She leaned in close. Too close. “I spiked my hot chocolate,” she whispered, a little off-kilter. “Probably more than was wise. It’s been a while since I had hard liquor. I must have misjudged, but damn, it’s making this whole evening easier.”

  “You’re drinking?”

  “I know. Terrible idea. Not supposed to. Blah, blah, blah. But Mom started talking about you proposing and I found this bottle of vodka one of our clients gave me and plop. Into the hot chocolate.”

  “Vodka and hot chocolate?”

  “Surprisingly tolerable when you’re trying to placate your mother’s insane need to see you married off.”

  “Leah...”

  “Mom and I are watching White Christmas while the boys snooze on the couch. Christmastime tradition number one.” She walked to the living room, swaying once before righting herself.

  He followed her, not at all sure what he was supposed to do now. Drunk Leah. Sharing a bed with drunk Leah. This all seemed infinitely more dangerous than it had before, and he’d been scared then.

  Now he was downright petrified.

  But she plopped onto the unoccupied corner of the couch, then patted the flo
or in front of her. “Come here, honey.”

  Dear Lord, was she blitzed off one shot of vodka? He surveyed her family as he crossed, but none of them seemed to notice. Uneasily, Jacob slid into a sitting position on the floor in front of Leah.

  She looked happy, and he didn’t think it was all the booze. With the movie in the background and not much conversation going on, things seemed to have calmed down. Mrs. Santino was watching the movie with avid interest, Mr. Santino was snoring next to her and Marc was reading on his tablet.

  And Leah was drunk off vodka she’d slipped into her hot cocoa. And he...he had slipped into another dimension, apparently. Probably the other night when he’d kissed Leah.

  As if she could read his mind, she shifted, her knees bumping his shoulders while Bing Crosby crooned about blessings. Then her fingertips brushed the back of his neck and his brain went a little dim.

  He had the craziest thought he should reach back, rest a hand on her leg, act as cozy as she was acting.

  But where on the leg did a pseudoboyfriend touch? Everything seemed too...intimate. Every inch of her seemed too intimate. So, he just sat there, some part of Leah’s body occasionally coming into contact with his.

  When the movie ended, Mrs. Santino sighed dreamily. “Oh, I could just watch it a million times. But maybe I should get your father to bed. Likely he’ll be up at five, inspecting your car.” She stood and looked at him and Leah, the same teary-eyed joy as when they’d been in the kitchen earlier. “You two really are just so handsome together.”

  “Like peas and carrots,” Leah said in what he imagined was some attempt at a Forrest Gump voice.

  “You’re exhausted, baby. Let’s get you to bed, too.”

  Leah narrowed her eyes at him. Apparently not drunk enough to miss the “baby” he tacked on. Or was it the “let’s get you to bed” part. Well, regardless, he needed to get her out of here before she raised any eyebrows.

  But Leah seemed to get that because she pushed to her feet. Slowly, but without any swaying or stumbling.

  “You sure you’ll be all right out here, Marc?”

  “I’ll be just fine,” he said, patting a pile of blankets next to his chair.

  Mrs. Santino nudged Mr. Santino to his feet and they shuffled down the hall to Leah’s guest room.

  Leah followed. Slowly. Jacob picked up his bag, glanced at Marc, who was watching Leah’s very careful walking with an unreadable expression on his face. Jacob didn’t know what else to do except follow her.

  Once inside the room, he dropped his bag, closed the door and just stood there. Awkwardly. What came next?

  Leah didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything. She walked into her little en suite bathroom and closed the door. The lock clicking into place seemed very...loud.

  Sooo. What was he supposed to be doing? Getting ready for bed. Sure. He glanced at Leah’s bed. It had been made, but it was still wrinkly. And small. The idea of sharing it with her was...

  It was a lot of things. Most of them he couldn’t afford to wonder about. So he focused on his bag and finding some sweatpants, which he draped over his shoulder. He wasn’t going to risk switching pants when she could walk in at any minute.

  He grabbed his toothbrush, but he needed a sink for that. Contacts and contact solution, needed a mirror. Mainly he was just standing around waiting for her to give him use of her bathroom.

  When he’d stormed out of MC all “things are going to be fine,” he hadn’t really pictured...this. And this was reality. He was going to lie next to Leah on that bed and somehow pretend he’d never pictured her naked. Never wondered what it might be like to—

  The bathroom door swung open and Leah marched out wearing slouchy sweats and a determined expression. “I set anything you might need on the sink, so don’t poke through my things or I’ll kick your ass to the curb.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Not that he’d planned on snooping, but he wasn’t going to argue with her here in weird world. He was going to brush his teeth, take out his contacts and change clothes.

  Which he did, only occasionally tempted to poke through her medicine cabinet. As friendly as they were, he realized he’d never been in her bathroom and had only occasionally been to her house before this week. They spent almost all their friend time together at MC, with the other MC employees, so this was like...

  It was different, and he really needed to stop analyzing that different.

  He shuffled out of the bathroom. She was already on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her eyes were open, but she didn’t turn to look at him.

  “I, uh, left my stuff on the sink. You know, in case your mom goes snooping around again.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Slowly, he advanced on the bed, not sure why his stomach was doing acrobatics. After all, this was just like...camping.

  He stood a few steps away from the bed. A bed he was going to lie on next to Leah. Yeah, this was not like camping.

  “So you want to do the Walls of Jericho thing,” he said, pointing to his sleeping bag he’d wrestled into his duffel. “Or...”

  She shrugged, finally looking at him. She wrinkled her nose. “You have glasses?”

  “Well, yeah...” And then he grinned. “See, you don’t know everything about me.”

  “How have I never seen you in glasses?”

  “I don’t really like them, so I only wear them before bed, when I have to take my contacts out.”

  “Oh.”

  For some reason that made him feel a little more at ease. As if he wasn’t an open book and she couldn’t read his every awkward or impure thought. He reached behind him to pull the sweater off.

  “What are you doing?” she screeched.

  He stopped with his sweater halfway up. “Taking off my shirt.”

  “You can’t take off your shirt.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because...because...” She pointed at his stomach. “Abs.”

  At his raised eyebrow she shook her head.

  “That’s not... I don’t...” She flung her arm over her eyes. “Ohh, I’m drunk. Leave me alone.”

  Leah was perturbed by his...abs? Well. And she was also drunk. So. Yeah, maybe he should leave his shirt on, even if it was a sweater not exactly meant for sleeping. He left it in place, and when he edged onto the bed, he did it carefully, gingerly.

  He was all but on the edge, but none of their...selves were touching. Anything.

  She peered over at him through one eye, one arm still flung over the other. Then she sat up and began arranging pillows and blankets between them.

  “That might be the most ineffective barrier I’ve ever seen.”

  “You cross the Walls of Jericho, you die. Effective?”

  “Yes.” Maybe. “You...”

  “I what?”

  He didn’t know what to say, actually, because everything he wanted to say seemed to shift underneath his feet. Besides, he was tired and she was drunk. So. Nothing. He should say nothing.

  “Night, Leah.”

  “Night,” she grumbled, turning so her back faced him.

  Jacob stared up at the ceiling. He had a feeling he was in for a bumpy one.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LEAH WOKE UP to a low-level headache and a slightly sloshy stomach. Good Lord, who knew a shot of vodka in her hot chocolate could almost knock her on her ass.

  Well, at least not enough for her mother to notice. That was a lecture she didn’t need. Another plaintive plea that Jacob take care of her.

  Jacob. Right. She opened her eyes and he was lying right next to her. Well, yet another plus to the liquor, she’d drifted off without angsting too much last night.

  Hello, angst. Because with his eyes closed and him just lying there inert, she could ap
preciate how perfect he was. Visually. Open his eyes, start talking, it ruined the whole effect because it was such a reminder that as much as she liked who he was, it would never work with who she was.

  Unless he could pretend all that health stuff wasn’t there, like he did with his mother.

  Leah closed her eyes and swallowed down a groan. Why was she even thinking about that? Did she honestly think that was (a) plausible and (b) she’d just throw herself at Jacob and he’d...catch her?

  Not if history served.

  So, it didn’t matter if she wanted to run her hands over his mussed hair or draw her fingertips across his enviably long eyelashes. She wasn’t going to run her palm across the stubble on his cheek or find out what his neck smelled like in the morning.

  Because while her body might be all hot and bothered at the thought, her mind was not a total idiot.

  She scooted herself down to the foot of the bed so she could escape without crawling over him. Scrubbing a hand over her face, she walked to the bathroom. If anything would put a stop to any lusty thoughts, it should be her morning ritual.

  Over the years, the amount of medication she had to take daily had diminished. She hadn’t been lying to her mother when she’d said she was good. She was absolutely the healthiest she’d ever been.

  But nothing would change the fact that someone else’s heart beat in her body, and that it was a ticking time bomb.

  Way to be morbid, Santino.

  She popped the pills, ran through the shower, refusing to linger on the long white scar on her chest. It was faded, barely noticeable, but she could still see the marks from the stitches, the nasty pink. She could remember every time a guy had recoiled and every time a guy had backed away for fear she was too delicate.

  She’d had her rib cage cracked open and taken on a new freaking organ. She was anything but delicate.

  “Get it together,” she said aloud to her reflection when she stepped out of the shower. The fact of the matter was, most days she could all but pretend this stuff didn’t exist. But her family here was a constant reminder of what had been, and Jacob sharing a bed with her was a reminder that things would never be easy.

  She couldn’t even get through the first night of spending time with her family without spiking her drink. A few hours and she’d been desperate. Because things hadn’t changed. Leah thought there had been some understanding over the past year, some growth, but apparently Mom being in her orbit meant back to old habits.