My Secret Deal 7

Jake threw a towel at my face.

“Dry off before you freeze to death.”

I wrapped myself up quickly, dripping and red-faced, and followed him up the path to the cabin. My legs still felt like jelly from the swim, from the adrenaline, from… him.

He opened the door and nodded toward the bathroom. “Shower first. You’ll warm up faster.”

I didn’t argue. My brain was still fried.

The water was hot, thank God. I stood under the spray until my skin tingled, scrubbing lake water and insanity off my body. When I finally stepped out, wrapped in a towel, Jake was standing in the hallway.

Still shirtless. Still smug.

He tossed a black hoodie at me. “Put this on.”

I caught it awkwardly. It smelled like him — cologne and smoke and whatever he used in his hair that made it fall perfectly messy. I slipped it over my head. It drowned me.

Jake led me into the living room, pulled me down onto the couch, and plugged in a hair dryer.

“I can do it,” I said quickly, reaching for it.

He held it out of reach with one hand and turned it on with the other.

“I said I got it.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Tough.”

I rolled my eyes but let him do it. His fingers were warm as he ran them through my damp hair, surprisingly gentle, drying it in sections like he’d done it before.

“You do this for all the girls you kidnap?” I muttered.

He smirked. “Only the ones who scream the loudest.”

I laughed — and then my eyes fell to his hands.

His knuckles were marked. Faded scars. A couple of freshly healed cuts.

“You fight people?” I asked, quieter now.

Jake’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t answer. Just kept drying my hair.

“Why are you so nice to me?” I blurted. “You’re Jake Roberts. You’ve got a fan club full of half-naked girls who’d sell their soul for five minutes of your time. And you’re wasting it on… me.”

He still didn’t answer.

“Everyone knows you’re a player,” I added. “You hook up with anything that walks and leaves with lipstick on your jaw.”

Still nothing.

Just the hum of the hair dryer, the heat against my scalp, and the quiet flicker in his eyes.

Then he handed me the dryer without a word and walked out of the room.

I sat there, stunned.

Five minutes later, I smelled something… amazing.

Pizza.

I got up, curious, and peeked into the tiny kitchen. There it was — a pizza in the oven, golden crust, bubbling cheese, and pineapple.

One of the most random things on my bucket list.

Eat pineapple pizza without my parents judging me.

My heart did something weird in my chest.

Jake came out of the bathroom freshly showered, damp hair, new shirt clinging to him, looking way too good for someone who just ghosted me in his own house.

I walked up to him, heart awkwardly thudding. “Hey, um… thanks for the pizza.”

“Eat it alone,” he said, brushing past me. “I need a minute.”

Then he stepped outside, cigarette in hand, and stood staring out at the lake like the water owed him answers.

I hesitated for a few seconds.

Then I followed him.

The air was cold against my damp legs as I stepped onto the porch.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

He didn’t look at me.

“But thank you. For today.”

Still quiet.

I looked down. “You helped me check off so much already. Ditching school. Hiding my phone. Skinny dipping. Pizza with pineapples. And I…”

He turned slowly.

“I actually feel something,” I whispered. “Like… alive.”

Jake studied me.

I didn’t think. I just leaned in and kissed him on the cheek — quick, light, but real.

His head tilted slightly, his eyes tracking me like I was something dangerous.

“I mean it,” I said. “Thanks.”

He didn’t answer.

But he didn’t pull away either.

The next morning, I was so grounded.

Apparently, hiding your phone in a public library and vanishing during third period is frowned upon in my house.

I wasn’t allowed to hang out with Erin, Maisy, or Willow for Sunday book club.

No phone after 8 p.m. No social media. And definitely no boys.

But for some reason… I smiled.

I texted my friends: Can’t make it Sunday. Got grounded.

They freaked out.

Erin: WHAT HAPPENED?!
Maisy: OMG are you okay???
Willow: Girl do we need to hide a body??

Me: I ditched school.
Me: Hid my phone.
Me: Got caught.
Me: Still worth it.

Erin: …who are you and what have you done with Lily Waters???

Willow: Are you okay tho??
Maisy: Still sad about Travis?

I stared at that question for a long time.

Then typed: Nope.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel broken.

I felt alive.

***

A few days later, Jake texted me.

Jake: Morning, Waters. You still grounded or just pretending to be good?

Me: Still grounded. Alarm system and everything.

Jake: Perfect.
Wear your sluttiest dress.
I’m picking you up at 9.
Don’t worry — I’ll kill the alarm.

My heart skipped.

Oh, I was so getting in trouble again.

And I couldn’t wait.