Too Friendly to Date

by Nicole Helm

  “They’re worried about you. They want to be closer to their daughter, who has some serious health problems.”

  “Always about my goddamn heart,” Leah muttered.

  “Yes, actually. Which, let me tell you, has been the case since you were born. And you’re their child, and maybe you should consider not being selfish for a second or two and put yourself in their shoes.”

  Leah’s jaw dropped. Selfish? Well, okay, yes, he wasn’t wrong, but...this was still crazy. “Why are you coming with them? Don’t you have a life in Minnesota?”

  “I have parents who asked me to do something for them. Parents who have been through a lot the past almost thirty years. So, to me, it doesn’t matter so much what I want.”

  The implications of all of that, that she was wrong, the bad child, et cetera. And that he was the savior, the perfect child. Well, that reminded her a whole hell of a lot of teenage life.

  “Don’t...” The anger was so palpable she couldn’t fight it anymore. She barely knew her brother, and he and her parents were going to move here and... No. It couldn’t happen. She’d escaped for a reason, and she wasn’t going back. “You’re a grown-ass man, Marc. You can’t keep doing what Mommy and Daddy tell you to. Rescind those applications. Cancel whatever interviews. You can’t move here.”

  “Can’t I?” He kind of chuckled, but it wasn’t a pleasant, amused sound. Not at all. “How about this, Leah. I have spent my whole life helping them clean up after your messes.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out because... Well, she had no idea what messes he even meant, but more so, as little as she knew him, he’d never directed anger at her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him angry. Wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anything but stoic standoffishness or stoic vague niceness. Perfect Marc, a statue of responsibility.

  Marc was a mystery, always had been, and now he was standing there, the anger vibrating off him.

  “You might not care about them, but I do. So, I’m going to keep caring about them, and if they want to move here, they damn well will. They want me to pave the way? Consider it paved. And you can fight and rage all you want, but you’re a grown-ass woman, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

  “Why on earth are you mad at me? You should be mad at them for...orchestrating this bizarre idea.”

  He laughed. Bitterly. “Why am I mad? Because your selfishness has been the leading force of my whole damn life and I’m tired of pretending that it hasn’t. You’ve screwed this family six ways to Sunday, so you do not get to tell me what I can or can’t do. I will do what I please. More, I will do what they please, and you have no say.”

  “I’m not...” She swallowed down the hurt, because he wasn’t wrong. She’d done some crappy, selfish things that had adversely affected everyone. She’d just never...given much thought to him. He’d been her aloof older brother.

  And now he was all but telling her he hated her.

  “If I get a job here, I will move here. And I will help them move here. Because until they have you back, permanently, they can’t see anything else.”

  “I know I sucked. I know that, but I was a teenager with a heart transplant. Don’t I at least get a little slack?” She swallowed at the lump because those words felt so...little in the face of his anger. “I left. I left so they could work everything out. And it did, didn’t it? Me leaving solved everything.”

  “Are you that clueless?”

  “They got back together. They got out of debt.”

  “And they spent so many hours planning ways to get you back, it barely mattered. All that mattered was you. Which isn’t any different from the moment you were born. And I know that wasn’t your fault. You were sick. That wasn’t your fault. But your shitty attitude and the shitty way you treated them? That was your fault. So, yeah, I’m going to do what they want. Because they should have at least one kid who gives a damn about them.” He went to the door, jerked it open and stalked out.

  Leah stood there watching the now-empty doorway, barely battling back tears. Well, so much for a merry Christmas.

  * * *

  THE NIGHT WAS CLEAR, sparkling stars dotting the sky. If it wasn’t so damn cold, Jacob would be tempted to stay outside. To find some kind of understanding or sense in the vast sky.

  But Leah was inside, and that was far more tempting. It was late, and she might be asleep, judging from the dark of the windows of the house, but he wouldn’t mind just...sleeping next to her, either.

  This was definitely going to be a problem once her parents left, but for now, he’d push off that problem for another day. Christmas and all that.

  And a healthy case of denial.

  Yeah, that, too.

  He used the keys he’d pocketed from her old mailbox last night to open the door. Dark and silence met him. Even the lights on the Christmas tree were off. Gingerly, Jacob crept through the house until he reached Leah’s bedroom door.

  Judging from the dark at the base of the door, she was asleep, so he did his best to slip in without making too much noise. But she wasn’t in bed.

  She was curled up on the little armchair in the corner, eyes on the window and the pretty night outside he’d just been admiring. The stars, the colorful Christmas lights from her neighbor winking in the bushes that separated their yards.

  She sniffled, and even with the lights out, he had a pretty good feeling she was crying.

  “Christmas didn’t go well?”

  She let out a watery laugh. “That intuitive nature of yours is a real gift, Jacob.”

  He crossed to the chair, not sure what to do. At this point he’d dealt with Leah’s tears, and he felt as if he dealt with them pretty well, all in all. But...he was feeling a little off himself, a little...soft or vulnerable or whatever bullshit word he didn’t want to think about.

  Still, he rested his hand on the top of her head because it wasn’t as if he could disappear the way he’d come. “What happened, baby?”

  She stood, flinging the blanket she’d been wrapped up in on the floor. “Everything was great. Great Christmas. Cozy, fun, perfect. I haven’t had a perfect Christmas in I don’t know how long.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself, expelling a loud breath. “And then history served, and shit hit the fan.” Her voice squeaked at the end, and much to his surprise she turned to him and buried her head in his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  He held her there, both because she obviously needed it and because it felt good. Good that she’d lean on him, good that he could offer something.

  “Marc hates me.” She sniffled. “God, that sounds so stupid. But he does. He hates me. Apparently always has or something. Or at the very least has enjoyed a heavy dose of resentment since the day I was born.”

  “Hey, hey.” He pulled her back so he could see her face, tears streaming down her cheeks, cheeks red and blotchy. “What’d the asshole say?”

  She brushed at the tears on her cheeks. “Nothing that wasn’t true.”

  “Still. He doesn’t have a right to make you cry.”

  She shrugged helplessly. “Hell, maybe he does.”

  “Leah—”

  “They want to move here.”

  “What?”

  “They want to move here. Marc’s already applying for jobs. Mom and Dad will need a few more years to keep saving and sell their house, but they want to move here. So we can all be together.” She pulled away from him, stalking the room. “I should want that. But I don’t. And it’s not even because I’d have to admit I was lying. I can’t... I love them, and I do want us to be close...but not...” She stopped in front of him again. “Is it possible to love her and not want her here?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “She’ll smother me to death. And I...I don’t want to turn
into that terrible person I was. And I feel like I won’t be able to help it. God, I’m an idiot. Such an idiot.”

  “Why, baby?”

  “Because I’m almost thirty and I should be able to handle my mother without wanting to...drown my sorrows...in whatever.” She looked at him as though he was part of the “whatever.”

  And he was, wasn’t he? Because she’d said this would never be anything more than...good covering up bad. And for whatever reason, that made him think of this morning. Grace and Kyle. That wasn’t even a bad thing. Not at all.

  But it made his chest all tight. “Grace and Kyle got engaged.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell you. Grace wanted to do it. I don’t know why I did. It just...popped out.”

  She swallowed. “Well, that’s...great. That’s really great.”

  He nodded lamely. “It is.”

  “We don’t sound very happy for them.”

  His chuckle was rusty. “No, we don’t.”

  “You’re jealous.”

  “So what are you?”

  “Sad.”

  “Don’t be sad.” He cupped her face, brushed his fingers over her wet cheeks. “And don’t...don’t underestimate yourself. Your parents moving here might not be easy, but you aren’t eighteen anymore. You’re smart and strong, and even if your mother drives you crazy, tries to suffocate the crap out of you, you get to say no. And if she can’t handle that no, if she can’t handle your boundaries, you get to lock your doors and turn off your phone and hide.”

  “You make it sound so easy and rational. I just feel like I can’t breathe.”

  “You need time to let it sink in. To make a plan on how to deal with it.”

  “God, where do you come up with this shit?”

  “It’s not shit.”

  “I know. It’s perfect and wonderful and the exact right thing to say. Like always. How do you do it?”

  She looked at him in awe. Leah Santino looking at him as though he did something wonderful for her. It made him feel all the more off-kilter. Almost in pain.

  “She thinks we’re going to get married. She’s so sure of it. She—”

  He didn’t want to hear any more. To soothe anymore. He wanted...more than all of it, so he covered her mouth with his, pushing her back to the bed so he could cover her body, too.

  “Jacob.” The word was a half-assed protest against his mouth.

  “Let’s just shut up for a while.” Because he didn’t want to feel this anymore, and this—sex with Leah—was apparently his new coping mechanism. And it was a hell of a good one.

  Her arms went to the waist of his jeans, began to unbuckle his belt. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  WHEN LEAH WOKE UP the next morning, elbow pressed into Jacob’s side, his knee jamming into her thigh, there was a moment of pure, unadulterated contentment.

  And that made her sleepy eyes snap open, because that was so something she couldn’t afford to feel.

  This wasn’t a relationship. It was more of a blip, but she was beginning to think it wasn’t exactly healthy. They were both struggling with their roles in their families, the way they were seen or perceived or something, and apparently having sex to cope with that.

  Fantastic sex, but sex wasn’t exactly solving any of their problems, and quite honestly, waking up all warm and cozy curled up with Jacob was probably causing more problems than it would ever solve.

  She glanced at him, his face half obscured by the pillow. Dark lashes any woman would kill for, the growth of two days without shaving just starting to be noticeable. The sharp nose and square jaw. Pieces of him she’d memorized for years, working side by side, being friends.

  And she’d spent all those years convincing herself it didn’t matter. Because it wouldn’t work and he wasn’t attracted to her and they were too damn different.

  Except, the past few days had worked pretty well, and she couldn’t ignore that he was attracted to her. Unhealthy penchant for having sex after being pummeled by their families aside, this fake relationship was the most comfortable one she’d ever been in.

  It felt...right.

  Crap.

  His eyes fluttered open, the rich mahogany color meeting her gaze. Lips curling into a smile, and her chest tightened even as she involuntarily returned the smile.

  It was wrong, impossible, downright stupid, but somewhere in the past few days, she’d toppled the rest of the way in love with him. If this was before, she knew she could handle it. Pretend it away.

  But this was now, and the nagging belief that he might be able to love her, too, existed. So deep and so palpably real she couldn’t pretend it away.

  It could be real. This thing. “I’m going to take a shower.” She inched to the end of the bed and stepped off.

  “Actually, I have a question for you first.”

  She stopped, her chest tightening again. She wished she could blame that on her faulty body, but it was all fear. “Can’t it wait?”

  He looked so serious, lying in her bed, shirtless and tangled up in her sheets. So handsome. Oh, ugh, how had this all spiraled so far out of control? She took a step backward toward the bathroom.

  “Last night you said I was jealous of Grace and Kyle getting engaged, and I guess that’s right.”

  “I think that’s normal, Jacob. You want a family of your own and—”

  “And you said you were sad, and I haven’t been able to work that out.” He scratched a hand through his hair as he moved into a sitting position, making it even more mussed and unruly than it had been after last night’s...activities.

  Jacob McKnight was sitting in her bed in his boxers. Seriously, where had everything veered so completely off path?

  When you asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend, maybe?

  Right. That. Leah chewed her lip, eyeing him warily as he studied her. She wasn’t sure where he was going with this line of conversation, and she wasn’t at all comfortable with any of the possibilities. “Well, I—”

  “Because they’re your friends, and you should be happy. And you don’t want to get married, so there’s no jealousy. So, why would you be sad?”

  Leah looked up at the ceiling, as if the answers might be written there in some secret language. As if there was some answer to this question that didn’t put them on dangerous ground. “I don’t know. It was just the whole...Marc thing.”

  “We weren’t talking about Marc. You said you were sad in direct reference to Kyle and Grace getting engaged.”

  “You misunderstood—”

  “It’s too early for you to try and bullshit me, Leah. I don’t have the patience for it.” He stood, looking...yeah, angry, frustrated. All those things he so rarely let loose.

  Oh, crap, this was going somewhere bad.

  “Why did you say you were sad?”

  “Because.” It was none of his business. Okay, it might be a little bit of his business, but she didn’t want to tell him. So that was that.

  “Okay, let me change tactics.”

  “Could your change of tactics involve putting clothes on?”

  Some of the tension left his face, just the tiniest eye crinkle and upward curve of his mouth. “Why don’t you ever want to get married?”

  “Not this again.”

  “That’s your reasoning for us not being a real thing. That we want different things out of our future. So, I think I deserve an explanation. Whatever it is.”

  “It’s not important.”

  “Actually, it is important. It’s important to me because it’s the thing keeping me from having a relationship with you. A relationship that, for the first time in...ever, I find myself not even trying to maneuver. And, yeah, I get it. Maybe it won’t wo
rk out, but maybe it could. So, I want to know the thing that’s keeping you from even giving it a shot.”

  Oh, oh, that one hurt. He hadn’t been maneuvering her at all, and she could be some kind of first for him? Oh, damn faulty heart. She pressed a hand to it, rubbing there. “But...it’s not real.”

  He didn’t say anything to that, instead just stared. Stared her down until she felt as if she had to say something. “It’s pretend. We’re pretending.” Lame city.

  “We are really, really good at pretend sex. Why, it almost felt real!”

  “Jacob—”

  “Who knew we had fictional penises and vaginas!”

  He was mad. Snarky mad. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him quite like this. Irrationally angry, yes. Frustrated with a client to the point of pounding his steering wheel? Definitely.

  Snotty jokes and direct questions? New territory. And she could not, not, not read anything into or be pleased by the fact she was the one bringing this out in him. Because that...

  “I can’t.”

  “You can’t tell me why you don’t want to get married?”

  Even with the panic seizing her lungs, even though every ounce of reason told her to nod, agree. She could not tell him. But she didn’t do anything at first. Because the insidious line of thinking that kept getting her deeper and deeper into this mess was there, whispering at her.

  Things were going to hell in a handbasket anyway. Marc would likely move here within the next few months based on his determination to do what Mom and Dad wanted. Mom and Dad would be moving soon enough, judging by Mom’s singular ferocity when it came to anything she wanted.

  So why keep pretending? Why keep trying to shore up the foundations of the life she’d built in Bluff City? The Santinos were going to storm the gates and sweep it all away.

  Because she wasn’t naive enough to think she could keep the secret about the extent of her health issues hidden if her family was around full-time. No more so than she could keep pretending to her parents that she was with Jacob.

  Unless...