For the Longest Time Read Free Page B

reached down to give Tucker a scratch behind the ears. The dog leaned into his touch, happy for the attention like he always was. Jake grinned, gave the furry head one last hard rub, and then leaned back into the chair and blew out a long breath.
    â€œShe still hates my guts,” he said, knowing it was mostly, if not entirely true. Tucker cocked his head, looked keenly interested until he realized that nothing Jake had said involved either a walk or food, and then returned his attention to sniffing the air while keeping watch for squirrels. Which was, Jake thought, a lot more productive than sitting here brooding.
    He slid a look at the phone he’d brought out with him, thinking there was an off chance that Sam would call toask about the kitten. A
really
off chance. Only slightly greater than a snowball’s in hell. Maybe.
    Jake scrubbed his hand over his face when he realized what he was doing. Seeing Sam hadn’t just made him feel like a teenager again. It had turned him into a teenage
girl
.
    â€œScrew it,” he muttered, grabbing the phone and punching in Andi’s number before he could talk himself out of it. He’d said he would call, so he was calling. In his
professional
capacity. It wasn’t a big deal.
    â€œIt’s not a big deal,” he told Tucker, who was so impressed that he decided it was a good time to start cleaning himself. Jake nudged him with his foot.
    â€œYou could at least act supportive, jerk.”
    The phone rang just twice before someone picked up. Luck was with him.
    â€œHello?” Sam sounded a little breathless, like she’d had to run to get the phone. She also sounded a lot friendlier than she had earlier . . . which told him she just didn’t recognize his number. Yet.
    â€œSam,” he said easily, hoping that if he kept it casual and friendly, she would too.
    â€œJake.” The temperature of her voice changed so quickly that he was surprised the phone didn’t go cold in his hand. Just another reminder that this wasn’t the shy misfit he remembered . . . though there hadn’t been much question of that once he’d gotten a good look at her earlier.
    â€œWhat do you need?”
    He closed his eyes. That was, at the moment, a loaded question.
    â€œI thought you might want a kitten update.”
    â€œOh.” He could almost hear her switching gears,deciding how to proceed with him. When she spoke again, Sam sounded cautious, cool, but less overtly homicidal. It was progress, Jake told himself. They had to start somewhere.
    The question was, where did he want to go?
    â€œWell . . . how are they? Is Loki okay?” she asked.
    He paused. “Norse god of mischief?”
    â€œAvengers supervillain. He’ll be an adopted orphan, misunderstood because of his fur color, and bent on world domination because he’s a cat. I think it fits.”
    Despite the slightly defiant note in her voice, Jake burst out laughing. “I can’t actually argue with that. Loki it is. And he’s doing fine.”
    â€œGood.” He heard surprise, relief . . . and the natural caution that she’d always had with him, with everyone around here, actually. It took him back to the first day he’d really noticed her, sketching in the park beneath the huge old oak they called the Witch Tree. It was early May, the first really warm day they’d had that year, and he’d been out enjoying it on his own, thinking of the upcoming party that night, the impending summer. He’d just turned eighteen, and the world seemed to be waiting for him. Sam had been just shy of seventeen, and she hadn’t known what to do with him then, either.
    â€œWhat are you drawing?”
    â€œWell . . . I . . . um . . . Just things, I guess.”
    She’d tried to cover up the sketch pad she’d carried with her everywhere, but her hands weren’t big enough to