CHAPTER35
That’s an understatement.
“So, what is your type of man?” he asks curiously, focusing on me instead of his food now. I throw him a dark look, indicating that I really mean we are done with this topic.
My type? Far, far, away from me.
“Okay, okay. Are you going home to visit your mom anytime soon?” he asks, pushing in a new direction instead, but I just drop my fork, mood dying and temper punching me in the stomach.
For God’s sake.
“This again?” I snap and shake my head at him, irritated, being too sharp with him in reaction.
“Don’t roll your eyes and wave your hands at me!” He shoves my foot with his under the table, and I kick him back, a light satisfied smirk crossing my mouth as he grimaces with a glare, relieving me of my temper a little.
“Why do you always bring her up?” I accuse, pissed that he does this … a lot.
“Because I find it weird that you never go home to see her, Emma. She’s your mother, and Chicago is just two hours on a plane. It’s hardly on the other side of the world. You know you can use the jet whenever you need it.” He’s frowning at me, all green eyes and stiff squared jaw, looking wounded at my anger over this, reverting to a child.
“I don’t need to run home and see ‘Mommy’, Jake. I’m a big girl with my own life,” I scold. I hate that he always presses me about this at every opportunity.
“I go see my ‘Mommy’ every couple of weeks. She gave birth to me and raised me. I can’t imagine going five years without one trip home. It’s odd.” He narrows his brows at me, and that green gaze just penetrates mine.
“It’s not like she hasn’t come here to New York. I don’t need to go home.” My food isn’t satisfying me like it normally does, and I realize the conversation is souring the taste. I put down my napkin, now I’ve lost my appetite.
“You grew up there; don’t you miss it?” He’s still eating and trying to come across as non-intrusive, but I’m not fooled. Jake is one of the most intrusive people I’ve ever known; he has a severe craving to pry into my life every day, and he is as subtle as a bull.
“No,” I snap, finally letting the irritation show, losing my cool with him properly.
“Did you leave for a reason, and that’s why you get so pissed about this?” he asks. My eyes flash up as though he’s struck me, but I quickly look back down. I won’t have this conversation; he needs to leave it alone and know when he’s crossing the line, again. I’m tired of this.
“Drop it,” I say quietly, the rush of emotion running through me, dampening all the happiness I had on arriving here. It’s not a good feeling.
“You never talk about you, Emma. You know everything about me,” he almost pleads, but it falls on deaf ears.
“I never knew your father had an affair before now!” I snap, a little more harshly this time, looking at him accusingly and hoping to push this away.
“But you do know now,” he sulks, his green eyes narrowing under furrowed brows. A little boy scolded comes to mind, equally as stubborn as me.
Sometimes we bicker; it usually goes a lot like this and usually for similar topics. I sigh heavily, annoyed at … well, everything. I feel guilty at making him like this and regret my harsh tone immensely. Jake makes me feel bad so easily.
“I’m sure there are things you haven’t told me, Jake. Everyone is entitled to privacy.” I remember the fleeting look earlier in our conversation and see it reflected in his eyes once more. Something is there after all. It seems to cause him to back off, thankfully, realizing he has secrets too.
“Fine, but it’s just weird.” He dips his eyes down to his plate, a definite sulk-face on. I cannot help the tug of affection that softens my whole attitude.
Man-child returns.
“You are the king of weird; you attract massive amounts of weird, so you have some nerve,” I chuckle, trying a friendlier tone in an effort to bring humor back into the conversation. I hate when we bicker and argue over pointless things, and as his frown smooths out to be replaced with a growing warmth, he knows what I’m hinting.
“You’re talking about that freaky Lisa?” he smiles slightly, mood dispersing too. Such is our way.
Yes, he got my hint. There wasn’t anything weirder than that.
“You didn’t say ‘no’ to her weird fetishes; you asked your PA to research them,” I remind him, narrowing my eyes accusingly, but can’t help the giggle that springs from my throat, mood lifted and irritation gone just like that, like always. We recover quickly, effortlessly. He laughs too.
“I didn’t actually partake, Emma. I just didn’t think she was being serious; I thought I was missing some joke.” He smiles his natural, cute, Jake smile, and it makes me smile too, glad that he is once again his normal, infuriatingly smug and mischievous self once more, our bickering over.
“You called me at four in the morning to ask me if diapers would turn me on,” I reminisce while chuckling, remembering the shock that had run over me when I had been rudely awakened with that drunken question.
“I needed another female perspective, a normal female perspective. She scared the shit out of me.” He flinches at the memory, which only makes me grin all the more.
“How do you think I felt? I got a wakeup call from my drunk boss asking me about weird crap like adult babying fetishes and diapers,” I remind him, raising my brow and fixing him with an accusatory look."
