Page 146 of How To Not Need You

“Liv.”

“Your daughter successfully manipulated two grown adults into resolving their relationship problems. I think we have bigger things to worry about.”

Jake rubs a hand over his face. “I'm raising a criminal.”

“An effective criminal.”

“That's not better.”

The bedroom door cracks open again. “Can Liv stay for dinner?”

Jake looks at me. He doesn't answer for me. Just waits like the emotionally competent man he is.

Fucking Jake. Tilly is watching me now too, her face hopeful.

“Yeah, bug. I can stay.” The door flies open.

“AND SLEEPOVER?!” She shouts

“Don't push it.” Jake answers for me this time.

“Okay!” She disappears back into her room, apparently satisfied with her day's work. Jake’s fingers find mine again.

“You know she's going to take full credit for this forever.”

“She deserves at least seventy percent.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Eighty?”

“Liv.”

“Fine. Sixty-five, but that's my final offer.”

He laughs and leans his shoulder into mine. This time, I don't move away. My keyring is still in my lap. Jake's key sits beside mine again, exactly where it was three days ago.

Except I'm not the same person who put it there the first time. Or maybe I am. Maybe that's the fucking point.

I don't need Jake Reid. I don't need him to save me. I don't need him to fix me. I don't need him to turn my life into something worth having.

I already did that.

But I want him.

I want terrible pancakes and Tilly's Wednesday-pink hair bobbles and Hades pretending he doesn't like me. I want Jake's stupid warm eyes and his hand at the back of my neck and the seat on the couch that seemed to become mine without anyone asking permission.

I want a key to this house. I want to stay for dinner. And apparently, God help me, I might even want the sleepover.

I look at Jake. “Actually”

His eyebrows lift.

“Tell your tiny criminal I think a sleepover is a great idea.”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Really?”

“Don't make it weird.”