The Dare - Dyken Rachel Van - Страница 48
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"It was her back," I pointed out.
Jake rolled his eyes. "Don't tell her in any way that you aren't going to chase her. What the hell is wrong with you? Do you wake up this stupid, or does it develop throughout the day?"
My stomach dropped down to where my balls had conveniently disappeared. "This morning, I'd have to say I woke up that way." Either that or the thirty-foot jump jarred something in my head.
A loud bang was heard on the door.
Swearing, Jake ran to open it and came face-to-face with Grandma. She was wearing leopard silk pajamas and had a creepy green mask covering her entire face, except her eyes.
"What did you do?"
"Me?" Jake sputtered. "Try him."
He pointed at me. He may as well have put a giant-ass target on my back and handed Grandma a shotgun.
"You." She joined in the pointing.
I started sweating.
"I basically handed you happiness on a platter!"
With a groan, I hung my head in my hands.
"And how do you thank me? You let her just walk away."
"She's already gone?" I jumped up from my seat. "But how did she get on a boat so fast? How—"
The slap sounded like a crack of thunder. Did she? Had I just been slapped by Grandma?
Jake winced as if he knew firsthand how hard that eighty-six-year-old woman could hit and took a protective stance, covering his man parts. Yeah, I'd probably never father children. That slap killed sperm; it made my balls recoil so far into my body I was pretty sure I would walk funny for at least a week.
"You. Are. A. Jack. Ass. Jack. Ass!" Grandma shouted.
More laughing from Jake.
"You're worse than Shit!"
Jakes laughter turned to confusion.
"She means the donkey," I explained.
"Was your plan just to let her walk away when things got too hard? When things got difficult? Now look what you've done! All my hard work, for nothing! I flew your parents here. I staged your wedding! I dropped crumbs every few minutes so that you'd follow the trail, and what do you do?"
"I crapped on the trail?" I offered lamely.
"You did worse than that."
"I really don't know what could be worse than crapping on the crumbs you're supposed to be eating," Jake said.
"Not now, Jake!" Grandma shouted.
"Someone crapped in trail mix?" came a gargled voice from the bed.
"Char!" Grandma wailed.
Char closed her eyes and ducked under the covers.
"Char!" Grandma tried again.
"What?" Char sighed.
"You can't let Beth leave."
"She's leaving?" Char jumped out of bed. "Why? What happened? The plan was working perfectly!"
"YOU KNEW?" I yelled.
"Whoa!" Jake held up his hands. "Don't get your panties all twisted. We all knew. Well, I mean, we knew once Grandma told us, and to be fair, Travis has known since the airport, but since he's a selfish bastard, he figured if Grandma concentrated on you guys, she wouldn't be texting him every five minutes asking if Kacey's pregnant yet."
"Nothing wrong with a little enthusiasm and encouragement." Grandma sniffled.
"No offense, Grandma," Jake rolled his eyes, "but having your eighty-six-year-old grandmother texting you about sexual positions kinda kills whatever enthusiasm said grandson may be experiencing. It's like sword fighting with noodles. Nobody's going to get poked, and you'll sure as hell get bored real fast."
"Noodles?" Char smacked Jake on the arm. "You're comparing sex to noodles?"
"Keep up!" Grandma stomped. "We have to fix what Jace ruined."
"I can fix it," I raised my hand, "if one of you or all of you tell me what the hell is going on."
"These plans," Grandma began to pace, "they take months to come up with. I can't simply snap my fingers and fix it."
She stopped pacing and smiled, the same one I had come to recognize as the all-knowing smile. People should run when that smile appears; countries should just give up — it's not worth the bloodshed.
"Do you love her?" she asked simply.
It should have been a simple question; instead, the question made me get itchy and squirmy as if I wasn't comfortable in my own skin. It made me afraid and made me feel stupid. Saying yes seemed too hard. Saying no? Too easy.
"He does." Jake sighed irritatingly.
"How do you know?" I snapped.
"Because you're itchy."
"Huh?" Char and Grandma said in unison.
"Players, we know the game well. Believe me, he's all uncomfortable with his feelings. It's why he's so twitchy. His mind is manifesting a physical response to his inability to commit emotionally."
Something happened that night.
Something I'm not sure any of us were willing to purposefully talk about.
Jake Titus, manwhore of the century, not only found his heart, but somewhere deep inside that brain, he found psychology.
It scared the shit out of me.
"Are you drunk?" Char whispered under her breath.
"Admit it." Jake ignored his wife and crossed his arms. "What I said made sense."
"I—" Sweating. Definitely sweating.
"Jace, if you like her so much, why are you hesitating?" Grandma asked sweetly.
"Because I want to get it right." I sighed. "I want to be what she deserves, and I don't think I am. I know I'm not, because if it was her or my future, I think I'd still pick me. Okay? Are you guys happy that you've just discovered what a selfish bastard I can be? I choose me! I don't choose the really pretty girl with bright green eyes. I choose what I've worked years for. I want a second chance. I guess I just wanted it on my terms."
The room fell silent.
"Oh, honey," Grandma pulled me into a tight hug, "it's good for you to admit that."
"It is?" I pulled back.
"Yes." Grandma patted my back. "It's only when we admit what scares us the most — we can conquer our demons. You're afraid of failure, but most importantly, you're afraid of success."
"Success?" I snorted. "I already have that."
"I meant emotional success. Nothing scares you more than knowing, in the end, you are the reason for your own unhappiness. Not some woman, not your career, not anything but your own stubborn self. I believe, Mr. Senator, that you've made your choice. I just hope, in the end, it's worth it."
"A reflection doesn't keep you warm at night," Jake said, all teasing gone from his voice.
"You're right." I hung my head defeated. "But the risk is nothing."
"I'm sorry." Grandma wiped away a tear.
"Grandma, it's fine it's—"
"Not you." She turned. "Her. I'm sorry, Beth."
It was then that I looked at the door. It had been cracked open the whole time. Beth stood there, bags packed. And she'd heard the whole damn conversation. So she'd run, but it hadn't been to the airport. She'd run to the woman who'd brought us here in the first place. She'd run to Grandma, hoping she could fix it, fix me. And she'd failed.
"Beth I—"
"Save it." She nodded her head and gave a sad smile. "I'll just…" She backed away slowly, rolling her suitcase behind her.
I waited for Jake to punch me. But it seemed even he was too disappointed in me to waste any energy.
Grandma kissed me softly on the cheek and whispered, "Be happy."
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