Page 30 of Home Run Fiancé
I tell Rhys how I feel and then I tell Asher.
Tomorrow.
13
Rhys
“Oh, crud…” I mutter to myself while trying to put on a straight line of eyeliner and nearly jabbing myself in the eye. I had to put a thick swipe of concealer under my eyes to mask the tossing and turning I did all night. Figured I’d keep going by adding liner and mascara so I looked nice for our breakfast. I kept reliving that kiss by the lake, the way Jake had held my hand, all the sweet things he’d said. The care he took with me in small ways other people wouldn’t necessarily notice.
It all culminated in one nauseatingly huge decision: today’s my day to come clean. To Asher. And to Jake.
Just like ripping off a Band-Aid. Do it all at once.
My phone pings from the counter where I abandoned it to get my makeup done properly.
Jake:Downstairs, double parked. Sorry I’m early.
A flutter of excitement and nerves bursts in my stomach, making my hands shake as I text him back.
Rhys:Be down in just a second!
I throw my eyeliner in the drawer and run to get my favorite sandals. I don’t have a rehearsed speech planned out, just a general idea of what I could say to Jake to make him understand how I feel about him. What I don’t want to do is just blurt out that I’m falling for him. Maybe a subtle statement about really enjoying our time together, even the acting parts in front of the public.
“Argh…”
Disgusted with my lack of confidence, I roll my eyes and nearly trip heading out the front door. If I’m going to tell Jake how I feel, I need to make a clear statement, not some wishy-washy half-truth that could be misconstrued. Sure, I’m only twenty, but I need to be mature about things and boldly state what I want: a real relationship with Jake. I am woman, hear me roar.
Speaking of, Jake sees me coming down the stairs and his face lights up. Through the window of his car, I can see him mouth “good morning” to me and it’s all I can do not to squeal like a lovesick preteen at a boy-band concert. I rush over to the car and get in, leaning over to kiss him, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Hi, beautiful.” Jake nuzzles his beard along my cheek and I playfully push him away.
“Hey, don’t start a tickle war. You know you’ll lose, mister.”
He fake pouts. “I thought you wouldn’t use my shortcomings against me.”
I snort. “You thought wrong.”
“Wow.” Jake shakes his head and pulls out into traffic. “You’re tough.”
“I don’t know about that…” I mutter. I clap my hands together enthusiastically and change the subject. “Nice line drive in the ninth to bring your guy home and win the game!”
Jake freezes and then a megawatt smile takes over his face. “You watched my game?”
I feel shy all of a sudden. I lift a shoulder and look away. “Yeah, I watch all your games.”
Jake remains silent, pulling into the parking lot of a little diner before slamming the car into park. Spinning in the leather seat, he faces me fully, his eyes drilling into mine.
“You watch all my games?”
I nod.
“Didn’t you say the game was boring?”
I nod again.
“So which is it? Do you like watching me play or do you hate baseball?” His eyes are watching me like a hawk.
Bold statement time.
