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Chapter thirteen

Jake’s #1 Fan Club ??

Charlie

T he kiss.

That perfect, toe-curling, mind-stilling kiss. It’s all I can think about as I drive home. The way Jake’s hands gripped my waist like he couldn’t bear to let go replays on a loop in my mind. It felt like opening a door I’d shut years ago, stepping into a moment that was always meant to happen. A rewrite of something unfinished, yet intense and new.

I’ve been kissed before, but nothing like this. Nothing that felt so consuming, like every part of him was aligned to me in a pull we couldn’t resist. The kiss was a cataclysm, rearranging the ground beneath us, making me feel more seen and alive than I have in years.

It felt like a kiss that had been made just for us, one he’d been saving to give me. And he was ready to break through every wall I’d carefully built to make sure I knew it.

Now that it’s happened, I can’t imagine going back. I can't imagine a world where I don't know the feeling of his lips on mine ever again. And I don't think I want to. Fuck.

As soon as I get home, I tuck the kids into bed, their sleepy faces blissfully unaware of the turmoil raging inside me. Once they’re settled, I pour a glass of wine, hoping it’ll calm my nerves. But it doesn’t. It just makes the butterflies flutter harder. I’m stressing out, and I know I am because now I’m overthinking whether butterflies fly or flutter , for fuck sake.

My finger s itch to text Zoe, the only person who can talk me down from this ledge.

Me: Fuck fuck fuck

My phone rings immediately with her name flashing on my screen. I answer, and before I can even say hello, she’s talking.

“Did you kiss him?!” Zoe’s voice is full of anticipation, and a pang of exhilaration hits me.

“Oh my God, I kissed him,” I blurt out, my words a jumbled confession. “Actually, no—he kissed me! But I might have leaned in first. And it was amazing , but now I’m freaking out.”

Zoe laughs. “Well don’t do that ! How was it?”

I start pacing, spilling every detail. “Incredible. Terrifying… What if it’s too much, too soon? What if I just complicated everything? And now he wants to take me on a date tomorrow. What if I’m not ready?”

“Charlie,” she says gently through her amused chuckle. “You kissed an amazing guy who’s clearly into you. Don’t overthink it—just enjoy it. You deserve this!”

I let out a breath, feeling the tension ease a little. “He said he’s wanted to kiss me since the last night we had at camp.”

She gasps dramatically down the phone. “Oh my God, he’s been pining for you for years ! Charlie, that’s disgustingly romantic!” She pauses. “Why are you freaking out again?”

“I don’t know! What if this complicates things with the kids? Or what if I’m not what he’s been imagining all this time?”

Zoe scoffs. “Please. You’re even better. And you deserve to be happy, babe. Does Jake make you happy?”

“Yes.” My whispered answer comes without hesitation. He always has .

“Then go the fuck to sleep, and enjoy tomorrow.”

I close my eyes with a sigh, holding the phone tightly to my ear. “Okay… ”

“Trust me, this is a good thing. Take it one step at a time and see where it goes.”

I smile, feeling a bit lighter. “Thanks for another stellar motivational speech.”

"And if he rocks your world, I expect a full report. Charts, graphs, and a dramatic reenactment."

Chuckling, I end the call. I set my phone down, but before I walk away, it buzzes with a new notification from Zoe.

Zoe changed the chat name to: Jake's #1 Fan Club ??

Me: Cute. Real cute.

Zoe: Welcome to Jake's #1 Fan Club, Madame President!

I snort, shaking my head as I snuggle into the sofa. I’m about to text her back again when another message comes through.

Jake: You get home okay?

My heart thunders.

Me: Yeah, just got the kids settled. You?

Jake: Just got in. Any idea why Zoe just texted ‘finally’?

Fucking Zoe. I’m mortified.

Me: Ignore her, she's meddling

Jake: I’m not ignoring it. 'Finally' feels like the right word

I blink, his words sending a thrill through me. Before I can respond, another text pings.

Jake: Can’t stop thinking about that kiss.

Me: Same. It was intense

Jake: In a good way, I hope

Me: Yeah. Definitely in a good way

Jake: Good. Because I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow night to see you again

I bite my lip, smiling as another message pings.

Jake: Maybe I should come over and help you freak out about this kiss in person

Me: How exactly would that help?

Jake: We could talk it out. Or kiss it out. Your call

Me: You’re a bad influence, you know that?

Jake: Only when it comes to you

My stomach flips wildly as another text rolls in, and I take a sip from my glass.

Jake: So… what are you wearing?

I choke on my wine. Is he serious? Oh God, he’s serious. I’m giggling like a teenager, thanking God Zoe can’t see me right now.

Me: You’re impossible

Jake: But you’re not answering the question…

Nibbling on my lip, I play along.

Me: I’m still in my dress from the event. Happy?

Jake: Very. That dress looks incredible on you. Bet you look even better out of it, though

I laugh again, pulling the sofa blanket up to my chin like I’m hiding. I am going to pass away, and all we’ve done is kiss. I channel Zoe’s confidence and type back.

Me: You’ll have to wait and see.

A pause. I wonder if I’ve gone too far, but then the three little dots appear again.

Jake: I’m counting down the hours already

Me: See you tomorrow, Captain Thunder

Jake: Sweet dreams, Lady Lightning.

I set my phone down, the giddiness of our exchange mixing with lingering anxiety. Zoe’s right—I should enjoy this. I’ve spent so long worrying about everything that could go wrong, I’ve forgotten how to enjoy something that feels right. And Jake and I feel right. We always have.

As I settle against the cushions, the memory of our kiss floods back. His lips on mine, the way my walls felt like they were crumbling around me. How he held me like he knew it. Like he was anchoring me, promising he wasn’t going anywhere. A warmth spreads through me, soft and terrifying all at once.

Because shit . Tomorrow, I’m going on a date with Jake Brooks.

And he wants to see me out of my dress.