Page 20 of The Invitation
Sutton gives up and howls with laughter.
“If someone got ahold of that without knowing me, imagine the picture that would be painted,” I say. “They’d think I was an illiterate teenage boy.”
“I can’t with you.” She shakes her head, getting herself together. “But, in that case, you’ll hate my idea.”
“For what?”
“The one thing I didn’t have nailed down was how the two people on the show would be matched. We’re handpicking the first two people to shoot the pilot, so there isn’t actual matchmaking at work right off. But we needed to have an interesting way to say this guy and this girl are a potential love connection.”
My jaw drops. “You are not going to match them by their search histories.”
“We are.” Her smile is wide and bright. “It’s perfect! What you look up is the essence of who you are, right?”
“It’s the essence of who I am when I think no one will ever know.”
“Exactly.” Her amusement at my reaction is written across her face. “We can play this in so many ways. It’s fun. It’s relatable because everyone fears being judged—and being judged for your search history?The drama.”
I side-eye her and frown. “Yeah. Drama is right. Good luck with that. I hope this show is a success, but I’m afraid I’m starting to doubt that anyone will want to participate.”
The patio door slides open. Jeremiah steps into the backyard, his gaze going straight to Sutton.
“Hey!” She sits up, beaming. “I thought you were working all afternoon.”
“This is my time, dude. Go away,” I say, grinning at him.
“Accounting is behind, so half of the work I was trying to do today is stalled until they complete the files,” he tells Sutton. Then he looks at me. “I brought sandwiches from Stupey’s as a peace treaty. Does that help?”
I pretend to consider it. “It helps a little.”
He laughs, but there’s an edge to it—one I can’t overlook.
The energy around us shifts, swirling around as if announcing something … or someone. My stomach twists in response, and I sit up, curious. My curiosity grows deeper at the amusement on Jeremiah’s face.
“What?” I ask, my brows pulled together.
“Remember that we have a peace treaty,” he says.
I heave a breath and drag my attention inch by inch back to the patio just in time to catch Ripley stepping onto the concrete.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
He runs a hand through his hair. His chin tilts slightly down as he looks at me through his thick lashes and watches me warily.
I keep my gaze trained on his face and not on how his board shorts emphasize his powerful, muscular body.Asshole.
He walks toward us with a nonchalance that burns me.
“Jeremiah.” I say his name so sharp that it could cut glass. “Consider our treaty null and void.”
“But I got you sandwiches,” he says, almost singsong-ing the sentence. “And a blondie. I know you love blondies.”
“Yes, I do.” Ripley stops next to his friend, smiling smugly. “Ladies, I would say that I’m sorry for interrupting, but I’m not a liar.”
Sutton stares holes in the side of my face, so I bite my tongue instead of calling him out.
“Are you hungry?” Jeremiah asks. “I’m starving. I got out of here early this morning and haven’t eaten a bite today.”
Sutton hops to her feet. “Jeremiah. You should’ve woken me up, and I would’ve fixed you something.”
