“Oh, it’s something, all right.” Jake studied me for a moment. “Presley Marie Abrams, are you thinking about sex?”
“Of course n—” I set my fork down. “Wait, how do you know my middle name?”
Jake’s grin started slow and ended in a devilish smirk. “I asked around.”
That made me happy, no lie. But I wasn’t about to admit it to him.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds to me like your dad might’ve been an Elvis fan.”
I smiled. It seemed fairly obvious to me, but not many people ever asked. Granted, Gil and Gavin had given me endless shit about it, but that was to be expected.
“He was, yes,” I told Jake. “So, how’s the writing going?”
“It’s not.” His grin disappeared, and I could tell that the lack of inspiration was beginning to drain him. It didn’t help my theory that he only wanted me around due to my ability to inspire his writing. “But I was wondering if maybe you’d be willing to read what I’ve got so far?”
“Me?” I couldn’t believe he’d asked me that. I didn’t know what to say.
“Yes, you. Since you’re the one who inspires me, thought maybe you’d be willing to give me some input.”
Somehow, I managed to hide my disappointment. I had inspired him, so that was the only reason he wanted me to read it. I couldn’t deny that it hurt a little.
“Sure,” I said when I realized he was waiting for an answer. “I’ll read it.”
“Thanks. You’ll have to take the notebook ’cause it’s the only complete copy I’ve got.”
I nodded, trying to wrap my head around it all. It wasn’t that he wanted me to get a glimpse into what he’d been working on; he simply wanted input because when I was around, he could write.
Not that I could blame him for wanting to find his muse. I felt the same way. I’d actually started a drawing while we’d been at the cabin, and when we’d gotten back to Austin, I had run down to the art store and picked up an illustration board and started over. Since I had the idea, it wasn’t hard, but two days into it—right after I’d spent the night with Jake—I had all but stopped.
I think walking away from Jake had caused me to lose my muse. And I didn’t know what to do about that. It felt almost as though I had become dependent on him in that regard, and I wasn’t sure if that was what was causing the roller coaster of emotions I’d been dealing with or if it was something else.
Figuring the topic was sensitive, I dropped it, and we both remained quiet as we finished dinner.
Half an hour later, we’d cleaned the kitchen and relocated to the living room.
I could tell there was definitely some tension between Jake and me, but it wasn’t merely sexual. Something was bothering him, and I suspected it had to do with me not being able to spend time with him this week. I would admit, it did seem coincidental, and yes, maybe some of it was. After all, we’d had a fantastic time at the cabin and I’d been feeling a little … off since.
“You okay?” I asked, dropping down onto the couch beside him and petting Cat when he pounced into my lap.
“That’s the same question I was gonna ask you.” Jake glanced at me sideways.
Although he was trying to sound upbeat, I could tell it was forced.
“Look, I know I’ve been busy this week—”
Jake turned to face me. “Is that all it is? That you’ve been busy?” He sounded skeptical.
“Yes,” I answered, probably a little too quickly. And yes, I realized I sounded defensive, but whatever.
“It’s just a little hard to believe since you live next door, Presley. How long would it take for you to knock on my door?”
Shit. I did not want to fight with him about this, but I knew I had to explain. “I needed some time to think.”
“And did you?” he countered, sounding angry.
“A little.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
Before he could come back with another question that would probably turn this into a full-blown argument, I made the decision to change the subject to something that we both could deal with. And sure, maybe I was using sex to avoid what would likely turn into a knock-down-drag-out, but at the moment, I wasn’t in the mood to fight. I wanted to soothe things between us, to get us back to where we’d been before.