I thought our conversation would move on. But I should have known Jake would much rather talk about me than all the questions I had ready to fling at him.
“Why do you think he didn’t want to sit by you?”
“Well, not to sound cliché, but I’ve always been more of a hangout friend, you know?”
When he gave me the side-eye, I just grinned.
“I told people that so they’d stop trying to set us up on dates in high school. You used to think it was annoying too,” Jake said.
My mouth dropped open in mock excitement. “You’re a pretty strong man to resist making out with all this back in the day.” I pointed to my body—yes, that same body that just took down one poor flirtatious soul ten minutes earlier.
“What’s the drool situation like these days? Do you still wear headgear?”
“Plastic retainers at night. But they’re incredibly sexy.”
He laughed, straightening his legs. “Too bad for me. And you, I guess. Because I’m living out the rest of my days as a bachelor.”
I sobered at this and looked over at him, but he only stared into the fire. In an instant, we were back in his treehouse. I missed this. I missed being close to him and knowing him so well. Like old times, I could feel his walls going up around him. So I fought to tear them back down.
In the absolute worst way possible.
“What happened with Miranda?”
Jake’s face tightened, and I inwardly blanched at my thoughtless question. For a second, it had felt so easy being with him again that I forgot what we really were—old friends who hadn’t been a part of each other’s lives for a long time.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I just?—”
“You haven’t changed a bit,” Jake said.
“What do you mean?”
“Always got your dang nose in my business.”
My lips lifted in a halfhearted smile. “And you’re still as stubborn as ever, so I think we’re even.”
He shook his head. “You can shave your legs and do your hair all fancy now, but you can’t fool me.”
Insulted, I pushed at his laughing side. “I shaved my legs in high school!”
“When?”
“Before every basketball game. And before every date you and Dusty set me up on.”
He grinned and took a drink of his pop sitting on the ground next to him. There was a beat of silence between us before I soldiered on.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to?—”
“Thanks, I don’t,” he interjected pleasantly.
“But,” I went on, “if you ever do want to talk, I’m here.”
Jake took another drink, drawing out the moment by sipping slowly until he drained the entire can, making me laugh and putting me in my place at the same time.
My eyes drifted toward Sophie, now chattering softly by herself, twirling in the grass in front of the swings.
“She plays by herself really well,” I commented.
“She just doesn’t want to go to bed,” Jake said, a hint of a smile on his face as he watched his daughter. “She knows if she’s being cute and quiet, it might get her a pass to stay up later.”