Cinderella Screwed Me Over

Chapter Nineteen

When I heard knocking, I glanced at the clock.

He must be excited to get going, because he’s a few minutes early. Jake wanted me to help him pick out furniture for his place. First order of business was going to be finding a coffee table. He’d been eating at the restaurant or off his lap since he’d moved in.

I stuck in my hoop earrings and hurried to my door. Swinging it open, I said, “Hey, I—”

Instead of Jake, Stephanie stood there, tears streaming down her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Anthony and I got into this huge fight,” Stephanie said. “I should’ve warned you I was coming. But I’m so mad and sad and argh! I just punched in the code and hurried up, hoping you were home. I decided that even if you weren’t, I’d hide out here for a while.”

“Come on in. You know you can always stay here, even if I’m gone.”

We walked across the room and sat down on the couch.

Stephanie rubbed her temples. “We never used to fight. But lately…everything’s just such a struggle. It’s like we don’t even speak the same language. He was such a jackhole tonight, then he tells me I’m overreacting.”

I put my hand on her back. “What happened?”

She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I didn’t know he was a chauvinistic pig. He expects me to be sitting at home like a fifties housewife, with the house all cleaned and dinner cooked and ready the instant he steps in the door. I work, too!”

“You do. I don’t know how you get so much done.”

“I know I’m not working as many hours right now, but that’s because I’m doing all the planning for the wedding. Any time I ask his opinion, he says he doesn’t care, but his mom cares about everything. And then there’s this typo I’m dealing with, and all he can say when he gets home is, ‘What’s for dinner?’ Like I’m his maid or cook.” Stephanie’s voice got higher and higher with each sentence. “Is this how it’s going to be the rest of my life? I should’ve never moved in with him. I wish I was still living with you.”

A loud knock sounded on my door.

“I’ll be right back.” I crossed the room and answered the door.

Jake leaned in and gave me a peck on the lips, his hand going to that spot on my hip that drove me crazy. “Ready, gorgeous?”

“Um…” I glanced back at Stephanie. “I’ve got a situation.”

“I’m sorry,” Stephanie said, wiping tears off her face. “I didn’t realize you were busy. You two go out. I’ll just hang here if that’s okay.”

“I’m not going to leave you like this,” I said.

Jake stepped into the room, looking from Steph to me, then back to Steph. “Is everything okay?”

Stephanie sniffed. “I’m sorry. I’m a big fan of you and the changes I’ve seen in Darby since you two have been dating—or whatever she’s allowing it to be called. Now here I am, ruining it all by coming and telling her how horrible men are. Even the ones you think are good.” A couple more tears escaped and ran down her cheeks. “It turns out she was right all along,” she said, her voice so high I could barely make out the words. She jerked her thumb toward the bathroom. “I’m going to go get a tissue.”

I turned to Jake and kept my voice low. “She and Anthony got into a fight. I’m not sure exactly what happened yet. You see, something happens to a girl when she gets engaged that makes everything seem like a bigger deal. I’ve learned that brides-to-be tend to get a little…dramatic.”

Jake nodded like he understood, although I doubted he did.

“Anyway. I’m thinking our furniture shopping is going to need to be postponed.”

Stephanie reentered the room, a wadded-up tissue in her hand, and flopped back down on the couch. “Hey, you’re a guy,” she said, looking up at Jake. “Maybe you can tell me why guys think it’s a woman’s job to take care of everything.”

I put a hand on Jake’s chest. “You might want to run while you can,” I whispered. “You don’t have to stay.”

Jake grabbed my hand and led me to the couch. He sat on the far end but angled his body to face Stephanie. “Tell me what happened, and I’ll try to clue you in on the guy perspective.”

Stephanie kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs under her. “All day long I’d been excited to see him. Then he finally comes home, and the first thing he does is ask me what’s for dinner.”

Both Jake and I stared, waiting for the rest.

“Like I’m supposed to serve him or something,” Stephanie said. “Why’s it my job to make dinner?”

“Guys just don’t think sometimes,” Jake said. “We say whatever pops into our heads. All he was probably thinking was that he was hungry. I bet if you would’ve said something like, ‘I don’t know. Where are you taking me?’ he would’ve been happy to go out.”

“But…” Stephanie’s eyebrows scrunched together.

“Do you take turns cooking dinner or do you usually cook or do you go out most nights?”

“Most nights I cook. I actually like cooking most of the time.” Stephanie leaned back into the cushions. “Great, now I feel like an idiot. This wedding stuff’s making me crazy. Just today, I got the thank-you cards in the mail and they spelled my name wrong, so thinking of what to do about that on top of what to make for dinner, it all seemed like too much.” She frowned. “And the more I explain it, the stupider I feel. I better call Anthony.” She grabbed her phone and disappeared down the hall.

I twisted to face Jake, still processing how easily that had gone. “You fixed that in record time. I probably would’ve just complained about guys all night with her until she calmed down. You come in, say a few words, and now she’s already calling Anthony to explain.” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not secretly trained in counseling or something, are you?”

Jake put his arm over the back of the couch. His fingers grazed my shoulder, then he twisted them in the ends of my hair, sending a tingly sensation along my scalp “Nope. Just had some experience with stuff like this before.”

“You think you’ve got women all figured out, then, do you?”

Jake shook his head. “No way. Every time you think you do, they change the rules on you. Like they could love the way you were yesterday and hate it the next day.”

“Every now and then, we change our minds. It’s our prerogative. The big secret is”—I leaned in conspiratorially—“sometimes, even we don’t know why. There are times after we pick a fight where we’re as confused as you are. But there’s no way we’re admitting it.” I shrugged a shoulder. “That’s why we have boobs.”

Jake’s eyebrows shot up.

“See, after we’ve acted crazy, and the guy’s wondering what he’s doing with us, we use them to mesmerize him, so he forgets that we’re crazy.” I shot Jake my most seductive smile and leaned the assets in question against his arm. “And by the way, if you look at my cleavage right now, even though I’m the one talking about it, I’ll accuse you of not caring about what I say and of just treating me like an object.”

Jake swallowed hard, keeping eye contact with me, though I could tell he was fighting his impulse to look down. A mischievous glint flickered through his eyes. “And treating you like an object would be bad?”

“It depends on how big a deal you make about how smart, funny, talented, etcetera, etcetera I am first.”

Jake slid his hand behind my neck and swept his thumb along my jaw. “Have I told you how smart, funny, talented, and etcetera I think you are?”

“You think I’m going to fall for that when I just fed you the lines?” Before he could answer, I kissed him. Using his hand on my neck, he pulled me closer, forcing my lips open with his tongue. His other hand slid up my thigh, and even through jeans, my skin burned from his touch.

Stephanie’s voice got a little louder. I pulled away from Jake, my breaths coming out shaky. I’d momentarily forgotten my best friend was even here. I only heard snippets of the conversation, but whatever she was saying, it sounded tense.

“Maybe I didn’t do such a great job of fixing things after all,” Jake said. “I’m assuming her fiancé isn’t a complete jerk.”

“He’s very nice, actually. They have small fights here and there, like all couples do.” I listened for a second and caught the word mother. “Sounds like they’re onto fighting about his mom now. Every relationship’s got a sore subject; theirs is his mother. It’s the kind of problem girls get together to complain about, but after a little venting it doesn’t seem like such a big deal. It’s the big stuff—like lying and cheating—that’s unforgivable.” I pulled my attention off Steph’s conversation and looked back at Jake. “You claim guys say whatever they’re thinking, like they’re honest all the time. I’ve been around too many liars to believe that.”

“The things we think will get us into trouble, we keep in,” Jake said. “That’s why when we say something we think is totally innocent, we’re so shocked and confused when you get mad. Then we use the classic, ‘You’re overreacting.’”

“Which, by the way, women really hate. If you want me to overreact or be grouchy, just tell me that I am.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Let’s try this out,” Jake said.

I raised an eyebrow, silently warning him he better be careful.

“You’re completely crazy…about me.” He leaned in, his lips near mine. “Did it work?”

I shook my head, but couldn’t help smiling. “See, this is the problem. You know how to spin everything to your advantage. In my experience, it’s the charming guys who are the most dangerous. They make you think they care, but they’ve got ulterior motives. In fact, you just told me that you’d keep in the things that would get you into trouble. So how am I supposed to trust you?”

He put his hand on my knee and ran his thumb across the top of it. “I guess my insisting that you can won’t change your mind if you don’t trust me in the first place.”

“Exactly.”

“I guess I’ll just have to prove it, then.” His eyes locked onto mine. “However long it takes.”