He’s making a face like a boy who was caught with a cookie, but I can’t prove he put his hand in the jar. I squint at him as I march my shirtless self—and my laptop—back into my room, slamming my door behind me. As I fall against it, my heart races, and my breasts feel tender beneath my bra. My skin is sensitive, the way it is when I’m turned on. It’s weird because nothing happened. All Jake did was run his eyes over my body, but damn, I shiver in a way that’s foreign yet familiar.
