Emma
I threw up twice before eight in the morning, which felt incredibly rude considering I already had enough problems.
When I opened the bathroom door, Jake was leaning against the opposite wall holding a mug.
“Ginger tea.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Were you listening?”
“The walls aren’t soundproof.”
“So that’s a yes.”
“It’s a very polite yes.”
I took the mug because arguing required energy I didn’t have. “If you ask whether I’m having cramps, I might throw this at you.”
His mouth twitched. “Wasn’t going to.”
“Liar.”
“Absolutely.”
That almost made me smile.
Almost.
Then I looked toward the bed and saw the clothes he’d laid out.
Three shirts. Two pairs of pants. My shop jacket.
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Did you pick my courthouse outfit?”
“I provided options.”
“You picked m
