Jake sits at the table in his loose black shorts and a white T-shirt. He stares at the pancakes, not looking up. Susan’s next to him, leaving me alone across from them with the last ready plate.
“So, how was your day, Jake?” Susan asks, forking a pancake.
“Fine,” Jake says, flat. “Yours?”
Susan spreads strawberry jam on her pancake, her voice lifting as she talks about her shift at the hospital. She describes the chaos in the ER—nonstop patients, endless emergencies. Then something changes. Her face brightens as she starts talking about a doctor she works with, how he moves through it all like some kind of superhero, saving lives without breaking a sweat.
I pause when she calls him by his first name, like they’re best friends or something. But I say nothing. Jake stays silent too, not once meeting my eyes. I keep sneaking glances at him instead.
“Jake, you barely ate,” Susan whines.
“Yeah, not hungry,” he says, eyes flicking up just long enough to land between my brows without really looking at me, sending heat crawling up my neck. “But these are good, seriously. Thanks for dinner.”
Susan narrows her eyes at me. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing. Why?” I croak. She can’t know. Right? Jake didn’t have time to tell her I caught him jerking off. And besides, it’s not like he stopped when he saw me.
“You’re never this quiet.”
Think, Becky. “Well, I’ve been stuck in the apartment all day. Nothing’s happening.”
“Oh, right…” She turns to Jake. “Could you maybe take her out tomorrow?”
Jake tenses like he might snap. “Why me?”
Perfect. Couldn’t be more obvious that he doesn’t want to be near me.
“I’m working the night shift tonight and tomorrow afternoon,” Susan says, cheeks flushing as she speaks.
“Wait,” Jake frowns. “You mean you’re going back to work tonight?”
Susan’s face reddens more. “Yeah. My coworker—Jolene, you know, the one always on sick leave—is sick again, so I volunteered.”
Jake looks pissed. “But you just got home.”
“Well, you know how it is,” Susan shrugs, launching into more hospital complaints I tune out fast.
“Come on, Jakie,” she purrs, looping her arm through his and planting a kiss on his cheek. “You can at least show Becky around the neighborhood.”
“Fine,” he says, eyes on his pancake as he starts chewing.
“Great, gotta get ready for work,” Susan chirps, already heading to the bedroom.
The silence that follows hangs heavy between us. Jake finally stands. “I’ll clean up. You go watch TV or something.”
Anything to get away from me. Fine. I feel the same.
I just get up and do as he says, slipping into the adjacent living room. The couch faces away from the kitchen, angled toward the TV on the wall. I sink into it, trying to disappear.
As Jake washes the dishes, Susan reappears in the doorway. She’s wearing a tight black dress, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, makeup bold enough to feel like overkill for an ER shift. She rushes past like she’s dodging Jake.
“Have a good evening, you two,” she calls from the open door before Jake even turns from the sink. She doesn’t wait for a response, just slips out.
Jake finishes the dishes while I flip through channels, finding nothing worth watching.
“Well, I’ve got some work to do. I’ll just head to my office—”
He stops mid-step, probably realizing it’s occupied. By me.
“I’ll just work here, at the kitchen counter.”
“No, you go ahead. I’ll stay here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
He grabs his laptop from the spot by the door. As he disappears into my temporary room, I finally feel like I can breathe again.
There’s still nothing good on TV, so I grab my phone from the coffee table and start scrolling.
Some time later, Jake walks into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. I pretend not to notice and keep scrolling.
Then a reel pops up on Facebook—my sister’s tagged. I tap it.
Two clearly drunk women are on screen, screeching along to a live band blasting through my phone. I frown.
But behind them, I spot Susan at the table. A middle-aged man sits way too close. He’s holding her hand. She laughs at something he says, and he stares at her like she’s a candy he’s about to devour.
Then he leans in. She does too. They’re about to kiss. I gasp—
The video cuts off.
“I knew it,” comes a voice an inch behind me.
I jump and turn. Jake’s right there, leaning over my shoulder.
He saw the video.
Jake straightens up, face tight with anger, fingers raking through his hair.
“I fucking knew she was fucking him! What a goddamn liar.”
“Jake, you don’t know,” I try to defend Susan, but even I’m not sure.
“Oh, I know,” he snaps. “He’s that doctor on her ward—she’s always talking about him, always working his shift… fucking slut.”
He paces, ranting, then suddenly stops like he just remembered I’m here.
“Ah, shit, Becs. I’m sorry.”
Becs. That nickname lights me up, even if I don’t want it to.
“She’s your sister. I shouldn’t have…” His voice trails off.
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about me. This isn’t my mess. You need to sort it with her.”
He sighs deep and sinks down next to me on the couch. His face buries in his hands, our thighs just touching. Fuck.
He looks broken—lost in all this. And all I want is to pull him close. Make him forget Susan. Make him see me.
Shit. I need to get out.
“I need to shower. Then I’m going to bed,” I say, clipped, snapping up from the couch.
“Sure,” Jake says quietly, eyes tired as he looks up at me. “I’ll bring my laptop back into the kitchen before you’re done in the bathroom.”
I nod and head straight to the bathroom, everything pressing down like I’m walking through wet cement.
I turn the shower to cold, hoping the shock will kill the heat still crawling under my skin.
The water hits—sharp, raw. It doesn’t help.
I feel sorry for Jake.
My sister’s definitely cheating.
She doesn’t deserve him.
When I finally step out, I realize I forgot my clothes. Fuck.
Wrapped in a towel, I creep down the hall, every step careful and quiet, desperate not to let Jake hear me moving around.
I slip into my room and freeze.
Shit.
Jake.
He’s standing by the desk, holding some blueprints.
“Becs,” he stammers. “I’m sorry. I just needed these.”
He steps toward me, and I stumble back, falling flat on my ass. The towel slips off, pooling around me.
I clamp my thighs shut and cover my naked breasts, too afraid to move, scared grabbing the towel will just expose more.
Jake drops the blueprints, eyes wide as he strides over and kneels down. “Are you hurt?”
Only my pride.
“No,” I whisper, sitting up and pulling my thighs close, pressing my chest against them, avoiding his eyes.
He’s so close. Too close. His scent fills my head, making me dizzy.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I breathe, finally meeting his eyes. No anger now. Just something tender.
He smiles, slow and gentle. I want to move away but can’t.
The room feels smaller. Tighter. Every breath heavier.
He leans in, just a little.
“Jake,” I breathe.
“Yes, Becks?”
That nickname again. Warm. Like our secret.
“We can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“You know…”
That grin that pulls my guard down like it’s nothing tugging at his lips. “You don’t want to?”
“Susan.”
His smile fades. I regret saying her name the second it’s out.
“She and I are done. At least, that’s how I see it.”
He leans in slowly. I don’t pull away. His eyes search mine, softening. “I get it. She’s your sister.”
But I don’t care anymore. My heart’s in my throat, my whole body ready to be wrecked by him.
His hand cups my chin, steady and sure. My lips pulse. Begging.
Kiss me.
Instead, Jake presses a sweet kiss to my forehead.
He pulls back and stands. “Goodnight, Becks.”
I watch him walk down the hall.
Fuck. I don’t want him to go.
But I can’t do this. It would be selfish.
What do I even owe my sister? She’s treated me like crap.
Jake doesn’t owe her anything, either.
“Jake, wait.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
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