Page 17 of The Match

“Can you come get me?” Suddenly, I’m twelve years old at summer camp, and I want to go home because the popular girls are picking on me.

I hear some shuffling on the other end of the line followed by the sound of keys jingling. “On my way; just drop me a pin with your location.”

I don’t mean to cry. I really don’t. But the fact that Jo knows nothing about the situation and is likely in the middle of dinner with Gary, and she stops everything to come to my rescue, does me in. She acts like my best friend, my sister, my mom, and my grandma all rolled up in one. Although, I would never liken her to my grandma to her face because, hello, I don’t have a death wish.

I hear the sound of a garage door opening, followed by the closing of her car door, just before I notice a truck pull up and stop. The restaurant is on the main street, and the only vehicles that stop out front are either dropping someone off or picking someone up. Just then, the truck’s reverse lights come on, and I realize it’s backing up to stop right in front of me.

I might have been concerned that someone is clearly going out of their way to kidnap and murder me, but I think I’m a little too dizzy and buzzed to care. Instead, I openly inspect the lifted dark-gray truck and blacked-out wheels. The windows are so tinted that I can’t see inside. It’s not a bad truck to have to be abducted in.

Charlie’s ears perk up when the window starts to slowly roll down.

“Evie?” says Joanna. “Where should I head to?”

“Hang on,” I whisper, wishing that window would roll a little faster. “I think I’m being kidnapped.”

“What?!”

“Shhh.”

The window finishes its descent, and I peer inside the dark interior, not yet certain who my captor will be. A male voice calls out. “Evie?”

Imagine my surprise when the driver leans toward the passenger window, and I’m finally able to see the face of Jacob Broaden and his bright-blue eyes staring back at me. “Are you waiting for a ride?”

Of course he would drive a truck that only makes him look hotter. Of course he would. I wish he drove a minivan with an ugly stick-figure bumper sticker of him and his daughter wearing mouse-ear hats.

“Who is that?” Jo practically yells in my ear.

I pull my phone away with a wince, fairly certain I will never fully regain my hearing from that, and ignore her. “I—well, sort of. I was just in the middle of finding one.”

“Lie!” Joanna shouts again. “You already found a ride, remember? Why are you lying to this man?”

“Shhh,” I hiss at Joanna.

She makes a valid point, though. Why am I acting like I don’t already have a ride?

“Hop in. Sam and I were just headed to dinner, but I can drop you off wherever you need to go first.”

Hop in? Well, that’s an idea. One that I should firmly decline. It wouldn’t be good for me to get in that man’s truck. I already have the teeniest bit of a crush on him (read: massive crush), and I know that nothing good can come of riding with him too.

All morning, I caught myself glancing at him when I should have been paying attention to Sam and Daisy. It didn’t matter, though. He didn’t catch my glances because he seemed to barely realize I existed. He hovered on the outskirts of the room, only participating when instructed. But even then, his attention was mostly zeroed in on his daughter and Daisy, which only made my attraction to him deepen.

He might have been flirting with me over those first few texts, but now he has made it perfectly clear that he is not interested in me. And why would he be? He’s not old by any means, but he’s definitely older than me. He’s thirty-three to my twenty-six. (Of course I studied his age when I photocopied his driver’s license for paperwork.) He has a daughter and a tidy, established life; meanwhile, I live in a disorganized matchbox and my life is mostly chaos. It’s fine, though. I’m not interested in him either. And I almost mean that.

“Oh, that’s okay! I’m good to catch a ride with my friend across town. You guys go on to dinner.” My smile is all stars and butterflies, but inside I feel a little tremble. Why? Do I hope he fights for me? Or do I hope he drives off?

I am a human seesaw. Up and down I go. Take me with you. Leave me be.

“Who is this guy?” Joanna reminds me that she’s still glued to my ear. “He sounds sexy.” You have no idea.

“Come with us, Evie!” Sam bellows from the back seat.

I want to step closer so I can see her, but I know that’s a bad idea too. I need to keep my butt over here, far away from this family that I can very well see myself growing attached to when I shouldn’t. I’m already going to be spending every day this week with them; I don’t need to heap more coals onto the already blazing fire.

“Come on,” Jacob says with a cool-guy wave. His other hand is draped over the steering wheel, and he looks so effortlessly sexy. “Don’t make your friend come all this way. We’re happy to drive you.”

His persistence is throwing me off. Just when I think I understand what’s happening with him, he turns the tables. Earlier today, he was Mr. I-Don’t-Care-About-You, and now I could almost swear I see a hopefulness in his eyes.

“Well . . .” I glance around and remember that Tyler will show up at any moment. I really don’t want to be here when that happens.

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