Page 60 of Look What You Made Me Do

Miranda quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”

Ella gave a brief nod. “That’s a yes.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God!” Miranda turned to an immobile Jake and hugged him. She turned back to Ella and beamed. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Ella smiled but held up her hand to curb Miranda’s enthusiasm. “There are conditions.”

“Name them.”

“I don’t want to walk around the school grounds and feel like I’m on the set of Mean Girls. No beauty pageants, no popularity contests – all comers regardless of size, sex and nationality are welcome to be in if they want.”

Miranda nodded eagerly. “Diversity. Check.”

“The uniforms are to be modest. No tiny skirts, no bare skin.”

Miranda nodded again. “Functional. Check.”

“Chants are about school spirit, okay? No ego-stroking.”

“Deluca chants only. Check.”

Ella laughed. Miranda was brimming with enthusiasm which was infectious. “Alright, then. Keep me up to date.”

“I will,” she promised. “I will.” Then she bounded out of the office.

Which left Jake and Ella scowling at each other across her desk. “All you had to do was say no.”

“This felt better,” she snapped.

More eye hating followed as Jake glowered at her. For a moment she thought he was going to say something but then he turned on his heel and stalked for the door. He made it halfway before he stopped, clenched his fists, turned and strode back.

“Listen up,” he growled as he planted his hands on her desk. “I’m only going to say this once. I. Did. Not. Sleep. With. Rachel.” Pushing off the desk, he shoved a hand through his hair. “My father was one of her clients. Sometimes he was too drunk to get home and Rachel would ring the bar and I would go and pick him up. That’s how I knew about the damn vases.”

Ella stared at him, his fervent denial and explanation seeping into the cracks of her famous reserve that had been papered over one too many times. He looked part pissed off, part exasperated, and tired as hell.

But, she believed him.

The weight Ella had been carrying on her chest suddenly lifted but it didn’t make her feel any better. Because now she felt like a fool and a shrew going off half-cocked like that. Kicking him out of their still-warm bed.

And saying some pretty terrible stuff in the process.

“Why didn’t you say something?” she demanded.

“I did,” he retorted.

As he prowled to the window, Ella wanted to refute his statement but it was the truth. He had denied it and she’d pushed it aside because her brain had gone into frantic damage control, protecting her from images and scenarios she hadn’t wanted to contemplate.

“Not hard enough,” she said to his back. Why hadn’t he tried harder? “Why didn’t you tell me it was your father?”

“Because…” Jake stared out the window, his back to her. “Maybe I’m as ashamed by my father and the things he did as you are your mother? Maybe I didn’t want to admit to the woman I’d spent the night with that my loser dad used to pay her mom for sex, especially after Roger fucking Hillman’s insults. And maybe” – he turned then, his eyes bleak as they settled on her – “after all our history, I thought you knew me better than that?”

The barb struck her in the center of the chest. He was right. She should have. They had a complicated relationship that had sprung from a shared history neither had ever really talked about but she did know him.

The way only another misfit from Trently could.

Ella inspected her hands, embarrassed and ashamed by her hasty condemnation. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “I’m sorry.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I’m really sorry.”

He shook his head, sighing as he leaned his ass against the windowsill. “It doesn’t matter. It was probably for the best, right? We’re trying to achieve something here and if this… incident has taught us anything it’s that complicating the situation with” – he pointed back and forth between the two of them – “a thing between us, probably isn’t very smart.”

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