How We Were | ✔️ (Complete)

35. Sonic, Take Two

He raised an eyebrow.

"Higher," I said.

He inched a little bit higher, making my heart beat out of control. I was pretty close to hyper ventilating when he stopped and bit down so hard on his lower lip that it blanched. Seconds later, his shoulders shook. "I can't do it," he said, erupting into a gut-busting laughter. "You're so fucking gullible it feels wrong, I think I'd rather steal candy from a baby."

Furious, I shoved his hand off of me. God, he was so horrid. "You oughta be ashamed of yourself, Jake Waites, I don't even know why I bother wasting my breath talking to you."

"I don't oughta nothin'," he drawled. "You sound just like my mother sometimes. Or at least what I think I remember about her." He looked away and scratched his nose.

At his words, my foolish heart softened again.

You still miss her don't you?

He turned his attention back to me. "Anyway. The answer is, he wants to fuck you. But you already know that. As to why he hasn't yet, when you're so obviously willing, I have no clue. He's a complicated guy - hard to know what's going on in his head sometimes."

I chewed on my straw and looked at him from beneath my eyelashes. "Do you know him well?"

Jake shrugged. "Used to."

"Do you... dislike him?"

"No, he's a good guy," he said, looking me directly in the eyes.

"So why does everyone make you guys out to be mortal enemies?"

"Do they?"

Well, Beth did. "Some people do."

He shrugged. "I dunno. How am I supposed to know why other people think the things they do?"

"And why was it so awkward between the two of you earlier today? No wait, was that yesterday?" God, I was so exhausted I was having trouble keeping time straight.

"Was it?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you serious?"

"Anyway, this isn't about Peyton and Jake. It's about Peyton and Layla."

Oh, so you're gonna hedge, are you? I chewed on the straw some more and watched him carefully to try and decipher his mood, but God damn, these guys were good at hiding their thoughts. Or maybe I was really bad at reading people.

"Look," he said. "You're always gonna be hung up on the guy. You want to know what I think? You should just fuck him and get it out of your system. If it works out, great. If it doesn't, then you can turn around and fuck me." He grinned.

That's the plan, bro. Except it's looking like you might have to go first.

Dropping my gaze, I punched in all the little buttons on the lid of my cup. I wasn't going to be hypocritical and resent him for saying the things I was thinking of doing anyway, but his nonchalance bothered me. It meant that he cared nothing about me, only about getting in my pants. And that was hurtful.

"You're a pig," I mumbled.

"It's just sex, Layla, not the end all and be all of your existence. It feels good, so you do it, no big deal."

"Whatever. Maybe I don't want to devote my whole life to trying to stick my dick into anything that moves."

His agitation was unexpected and sudden. "Two things. One, you don't have a dick. Two, just because I've slept around, it doesn't mean I'm not good for... other things."