Page 29 of The Match

After retrieving the evidence from behind my back, he chuckles. I can’t look away and neither can he. He’s holding the book between us now but doesn’t bother to look down at it. “Were you about to call Child Protection Services to have Sam removed from my guardianship after seeing this?”

“The number is halfway typed in my phone.” I don’t like how wobbly my voice sounds. But how else am I supposed to sound when I’m face to chest with a superhero who just finished fighting crime? Because that’s clearly what Jake is. It’s the only logical explanation for all the muscles.

He smiles. “Sam said she wanted to read it, so I thought I would read it first to see if it’s appropriate for her.”

“A likely story.” I can’t let him know that I think he’s probably the best dad I’ve ever seen. The way he loves and cares for Sam only adds to my attraction for him.

“It’s not at all an appropriate book for her.” His eyes drop to my mouth. “Too much longing and wanting.”

Between Edward and Bella, right? Because my mind is screaming that he’s talking about us, and I have no idea what to do with that information. I want Jake to like me; I want him to want me. But I also don’t dare believe that he really does. I don’t have anything to offer him.

“By the way, your boss is here,” he mentions casually, as if that isn’t the most startling information I’ve heard all day. It has the same effect on me as a hypnotist snapping their fingers.

My head rears back. “Joanna?!”

He nods, but his eyes are still trying to tell me something. “That’s why I came to get you. But I figured I should let you have a few minutes to creep around my room first.”

My cheeks heat again. “You knew I was in here the whole time?”

His smile grows. “I don’t mind. Snoop anytime you want.”

“Why would you be okay with that?” It’s a dare as much as it is a real question.

He’s quiet for a minute, then he looks over my shoulder as if he can’t look me in the eye when he answers. “I guess I . . . want you to get to know me.”

“Oh.”

His eyes hook mine again. “So, we can be real friends. Not just work friends.”

Oh.

Again with this friend crap? I try not to let my dejection write itself across my face, but it’s probably no use. I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings. He’s probably reading a Post-it on my forehead at this very moment: Hi, I’m Evie. I want you to like me romantically, but you don’t, so I’ll cry on my car ride home.

“Do you know why Joanna is here?” I’m ripping the Post-it off and changing the subject. “She never comes to my training days anymore.”

He shrugs his big shoulders, and I’m mesmerized by how the fabric of his shirt pulls tight. “I guess you’re in trouble.”

Not likely. If I had to guess, I would say that Joanna is going to be the one in trouble at the end of this day.

I try to step around Jake, but he cuts me off. Maybe Jake isn’t the only superhuman, because I halt my body so fast that I almost knock myself backward. Thanks to my reaction time, neither of us are touching, but that doesn’t help all the chills racing across my body.

“Wait. I want to know what you think of my room.” His voice is playful, and this is seriously throwing me off.

He’s like a bully who pulls my hat down over my eyes in the hallway and then keeps spinning me in reverse circles so I’m never able to catch my bearing. Business. Flirting. Stoic. Friends. Flirting. Quiet.

But he’s very clearly not going to let me leave this room without an answer, so I sigh and take a long, exaggerated look around the room (as if I didn’t already do a thorough investigation a few minutes ago).

“It’s nice,” I say and then get ready to leave.

“No, no, no. Tell me what’s going on in your head. What do you think? What stuck out to you?”

“Why do you want to know?”

He smiles. “Because . . . I don’t know. I just do.”

“Okayyy. I like the vaulted ceilings.” Ceilings are neutral, right?

“What else?” His smirk says this is some sort of game to him, but I haven’t figured out the rules yet. Or the objective.

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