Harper's Rules 1 & 2

Chapter 40: Harper

A/N: Mature content. 🤪🚻🤪

After four hours spent in a football stadium crowded with more than ninety-three thousand people, what I liked most about Gino's Restaurant was a tie between its location and how nondescript the interior looked. The sparse attendance of other customers at Jake's post-game restaurant choice eased a strain I hadn't realized was pent up in my shoulders. Even my cheeks relaxed as a smile spread across my lips.

He went lowkey.

For one moment, where Jake was any regular college-aged guy who took his mom out to dinner, a wave of appreciation swelled inside me while I parked my car on a sidestreet closer to UCLA than USC. By the time I stepped into the small, corner street stucco building with a warm, basil and garlic-infused smell, I'd completely snuffed out that feeling.

Doesn't matter. I'm still mad.

Thankfully, Mrs. Harrison decided the best meet up logistics were she waited outside the player's exit while I walked to my car, then picked them up curbside at the Coliseum. Jake signed a few autographs and snapped a few pictures until the last request ended, which hadn't bothered me except how the attention served as a sobering reminder of how many people worshiped the ground under his feet. A few times he'd lifted his chin over someone's head or shoulder, fixated his eyes on me, and mouthed 'sorry,' but I honestly couldn't have cared less.

Our car ride over here was mostly silent, aside from Mrs. H's backseat turn-by-turn directions, since Jake sat next to me and obviously decompressed. For as outwardly social of a guy he was, he slowly rode down his post-game highs, leaned back in my passenger's side seat, and sat with his eyes closed more than he'd kept them open.

The silence only prodded into my irritation that started at Mrs. Harrison's announcement that I was Jake's girlfriend. It grew and festered inside me the longer I sat in my car, to the point where I only grumbled a "Thanks," as Jake held open the door at Gino's.

Nothing in the L-shaped space stood out with familiarity, from the pale, light yellow walls with a stucco texture, dark mood lighting that cast more shadows than highlights on the square, wood tables topped with black linens and positioned around a corner bar. Two businessmen men in suits and loosened ties sat on aged black leather bar stools. They rested their elbows on the same wood-grained bar top as the tables and quietly nursed their problems away in solitude, one drink at a time.

Not even the small group of college-aged women who sat at two tables pushed against the front windows indicated this restaurant was special. Given how they clinked widely fluted cocktail glasses, rang out a hearty verse in 'Happy birthday' to one of them, and collectively laughed like they were the only patrons present, they didn't care about our presence here either.

"Hey." Jake's elbow nudged my shoulder as he came up behind me. I kept my gaze focused forwards, where Mrs. Harrison chatted with the host about which choice of the mostly open tables she wanted.

My chin dipped down, eyes traveled over my shoulder, and a weighted sensation filled my very empty stomach when I saw he wore a genuinely warm smile that none of me appreciated.

Correction, none of me believes.

My shoulder blades pinched together and spine straightened as he leaned over and swept his lips across my right cheek. Instead of the kiss I expected, he just trailed the tip of his nose around the shell of my ear and mumbled, "You okay? You're quiet."

Quietly contemplating the demise of your avocadoes.

A few silent bobs of my head followed, since half of me voted that I ripped Jake a new asshole and the other half wasn't sure why I was even upset anymore. Sure, I hadn't appreciated the girlfriend card laid out but technically Mrs. Harrison had played it, not Jake.