Page 26 of A Real Good Bad Thing

“Mom and Cole live in the Miami area too,” I said with an affectionate smile. “They’re super supportive.”

Jake picked up his glass and drank the rest of his beer, nonchalant once again. “And your stepdad? Is he in the picture?”

And there we were again.

We weren’t talking about my mom and brother. He was back on the topic of Eli.

If Eli’s move to the island wasn’t suspicious, I might not have minded him being part of a getting-to-know-you chat. But since I was questioning if I’d ever really known my stepfather at all, Jake’s queries didn’t sit right. Especially after the strange shift between Jake and me. So I seesawed my hand in the international sign for kinda-sorta-and-I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it.

“What about you?” I asked, eager to change the subject. “You don’t look like an IT guy.”

Jake leaned back a bit, tilting his head warily. “What do I look like?”

Like a guy who’s suddenly…skeptical.

But I tried once again to return to the easy way we’d had yesterday, and all throughout lunch too.“Hmm…” I tapped my cheek thoughtfully. “I could see you as an adventurer, like Indiana Jones. Or like Humphrey Bogart inTheTreasure of the Sierra Madre. So, when you sayrecovery expert…”

He groaned, an exaggerated protest, as if he wished he’d never told me his occupation. “It’s really so dull compared to snorkeling with sea turtles. Or with literally any other animal.” Then he reached across the table and covered my hand with his, tracing his thumb over my suddenly racing pulse. That sure felt nice. And warm. “Or compared to other things we could be saying or doing.”

Okay, so now he’d returned to familiar flirting terrain. Maybe my first guess was the right one after all—he didn’t like diving, and, typical man, didn’t want to own up to it.

Fine, I wouldn’t push him. And if he wanted to play more flirting games, I was up for that.

Propping my chin on my hand, I invited him with a “Tell me more…”

His phone vibrated on the table. He grimaced, and without letting go of my hand, flipped the phone over and tapped to send the call to voicemail.

“Do you need to take that?” I offered. After I’d given him grief about a supposed SOS call last night, I very carefully didn’t peek at the name on the screen.

“Not this time.”

“Really, it’s fine.”

See, I trust you. I am taking this flirtation at face value.

Jake shook his head though. Only, it seemed like healsowas carefully not looking at the device. “If it’s urgent, my sisters always follow up with a text.”

On cue, the device buzzed against the tabletop in a short burst and the screen lit up with a text preview.

I didn’t want to look. But he’d just said “if it’s urgent” and those words repeated like a warning.

My gaze strayed for a second, catching a familiar image on Jake’s screen.

I recognized my old logo before I recognized myself. I tilted my head to make sure, to look at it from another angle, but I didn’t have time before Jake snagged the phone from the table.

I blinked in confusion, but then I connected all the dots. My stomach dropped and my blood chilled.

“Who is sending you my picture, Jake?”

His face said,“Oh, fuck.”

13

MANGO CAKE STANDOFF

Jake

Ruby leaned back in her chair as far as she could, clearly putting distance between us. Her face was bloodless and stricken, which shouldn’t bother me more than getting caught, but it did.

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