Page 110 of If By Chance

I don’t realize I’m gasping for air until Jake skids to a stop at the side of the motorway.

“Jake, I’m fine,” I protest through a sob, scrubbing my hand over my face.

Jesus, get it together.

“Yeah, fuck this. I’m not.”

He’s out of the car and unbuckling my belt in the next breath. In one scoop, I’m out and wrapped around his body. His arms don’t let my feet hit the ground, and my ankles lock around his waist.

“You’re safe, baby. I’ve got you.” I hear his hushed words in my ear as cars fly by us on the road. “God, Claire, I’ve got you.”

Chapter Twenty

Idrift out of my light slumber when a cool breeze sweeps across my body. Fighting to open my eyes, they flutter when a warm hand cups my face, a thumb caressing my cheek.

“We’re home,” Jake whispers, crouching at the passenger side.

I yawn and stretch my stiff limbs, offering a small smile. “I’m sorry. I was awful company on this road trip.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees, chuckling under his breath as he stands and takes my hand, helping me out of the car. “And you snore,” he adds, mischief dancing in his smile. “And drool.”

He unlocks the front door, ignoring my panic as I stop dead in my tracks. I pat my mouth frantically, my cheeks already burning.

“Do not,” I retort, horrified, but finding no evidence of his accusation. His booming laugh fills the empty house. I elbow his ribs. “Not funny.” But his laugh always warms me, and I smile.

Leave it to Jake to help me forget the day—even if it’s only briefly.

Because when the silence engulfs me once again, my stomach churns with a ball of anxious nerves, and my chest burns so badly, I touch my skin to check if it’s hot.

It isn’t.

Just simple pain hammering away in there.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s always this way after visiting my mother.

Years of rejection doesn’t get easier.

Before I allow the threatening tears to fall, I swallow the defeated lump lodged in my throat since we left her house, and I do what makes me the world’s worst daughter: I shove it in a box and stick it in a dark corner of my mind.

“I was thinking,” he starts as we enter the kitchen.

“Did it hurt?” I joke, biting my lip to stop the laugh.

He doesn’t reply to my teasing. He simply glares at me from the corner of his eye, but there’s a shadow of a smirk curling on his mouth.

“I was thinking,” he repeats. “I know you’re tired and probably want to go to bed, but you haven’t eaten. I’ll order takeout. You can sleep then. Or if you don’t want to do that, we can watch a movie, and you can get shit-faced drunk.”

My heart swells, and I can’t help but smile. I lean my hands on the counter and prop myself to sit on it, my legs dangling against the cupboards.

He doesn’t need to do this for me. He’s already letting me stay here. Albeit, I didn’t have much of a choice. But he’s doing it for my safety. And as much as I kicked and screamed about coming here, I’m glad I did. I’m grateful I don’t have to be alone tonight.

“Thanks, Jake,” I breathe, hoping he knows I mean for everything.

For looking out for me.

For having my back.

For being the friend I so desperately need.