EMMA

I should have seen this coming.

It was inevitable, wasn't it? The moment when reality would crash through the fragile space I had managed to carve out with Jake, reminding me, with brutal clarity, that he wasn't just mine. Not in the way I had let myself believe.

But somehow, when he looked at me across the kitchen table, his expression casual—too casual—I didn't see it coming. Not until the words had already left his mouth.

"Oh, by the way, we're going to Ithaca for Thanksgiving."

For a second, I wasn't sure I had heard him right. I blinked. "Wait... what?"

Jake leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee like he hadn't just thrown a grenade into the delicate balance I had been trying to maintain.

"My parents invited us. My mom's been on me about it since I told her about you."

Since he told her about me.

Something twisted in my chest. I tightened my grip on my mug, letting the warmth seep into my fingers, grounding me. He had said it so easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And for him, it probably was.

Because in Jake's world, taking your girlfriend home for Thanksgiving was just another milestone. In mine, it felt like stepping onto unstable ground.

"Oh. Wow. Uh... okay," I said, forcing a breathless laugh.

Jake tilted his head slightly, studying me the way he always did—like he was peeling back the layers of my hesitation, reading between the lines. It always unnerved me, how easily he saw through me. How I never seemed to have the same armor with him as I did with everyone else.

"You know, you don't have to look like I just sentenced you to life in prison," he said with a smirk. "My parents are great. You'll love them."

I almost choked on my coffee. Jake froze for a second, clearly trying to figure out what had just happened. Of course, he had no idea what the words prison and parents did to me when they came out of his mouth in the same breath.

I forced a smile, setting my mug down before my fingers could betray me. "Terrifying," I said, injecting just the right amount of teasing into my voice. "They sound terrifying."

"Terrifying?" Jake scoffed. "My mom is an art teacher, and my dad is a firefighter, Em. The most dangerous thing about them is my mom's obsession with perfect lighting in family photos."

I tried to match his energy, but my thoughts were spiraling too fast.

I couldn't ignore how this had just made everything feel so... real. Too real. Because this—meeting the parents, spending the holidays together—this was something couples did when things were solid. When things mattered. When life wasn't so impossibly complicated.

And I wasn't sure what terrified me more—the idea of stepping into that world with Jake or realizing that some part of me wanted to.

And the problem was Jake had been asking about my family, too. He wanted to get to know them, to meet them. And I had to tell him the truth—at least, parts of it. That it had been just Eric and me for most of our lives. That I wasn't close with my so-called aunt and uncle anymore. That Eric was busy with work, which wasn't a lie, exactly. He was busy with his new tech project.

But what I couldn't tell Jake was that Eric would never willingly sit across a table from an FBI agent—especially not him. That Eric was still avoiding me. That things between us weren't the same, and I had no idea how to fix it.

Jake must have noticed the way my smile didn't quite reach my eyes, because he set his coffee down and took a step closer. That look was back—the one that made me feel like I had nowhere to hide.

"Emma," he said gently. "They're going to love you. You don't have to overthink it."

I bit my lip, something in my chest tightening. That smile. That damn smile. It always left me defenseless, breaking down walls I wasn't even aware I had built.

And before I could talk myself out of it, I nodded. "Okay."

Jake's grin was immediate, boyish and satisfied, and he reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against mine on the table. It was fleeting, barely there, but somehow, it anchored me.

I had no idea why I was so nervous.

I was used to making people like me. It was what I did. I adapted. I charmed. I became whoever I needed to be. But those masks—the ones that had once felt like armor—were starting to suffocate me.

And the terrifying truth was that, in his world, I wasn't sure who I was without them.

I watched the city slip away, fading in the rearview mirror as the world around us softened. At first, it was subtle—the streets growing wider, the towering skyscrapers fading into brick buildings and mom-and-pop diners that looked like they had been there for decades. But then, somewhere along the way, the pulse of New York thinned into something quieter.

The skyline disappeared entirely, replaced by open road and towering trees, their branches heavy with autumn leaves, burnt orange and deep gold.

I leaned against the window, my fingers tracing idle patterns on my jeans. The shift in scenery mirrored the shift inside me—a quiet reminder that I was leaving behind everything I knew and stepping into something unfamiliar.

"You're quiet," Jake said after a while, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

I turned my head slightly, catching his gaze as he stole a glance at me from the driver's seat. His hands rested loosely on the wheel, the sleeves of his sweater pushed up just enough to expose the strong lines of his forearms.

"Regretting this already?" he asked, his lips curving into a lopsided smile.

I let out a soft scoff, sinking deeper into my seat. "No. Just... trying to figure out how I got here."

He raised a brow. "In a car? On a road?"

I shot him a dry look. "Smartass."

Jake chuckled under his breath, then reached for something in the center console. A moment later, he held out a bag of Sour Skittles, the crinkle of the wrapper filling the air.

"Here. I know you overthink better when you have sugar. And I know how much you love sour candy."

I blinked at him, then at the bag in his outstretched hand. "That is both incredibly specific and slightly concerning that you've noticed that about me."

Jake grinned, eyes still on the road. "Emma, I notice everything about you."

It was said so casually, like a simple fact. But the weight of it sent a pang straight through me, warmth and terror tangled in equal measure.

I snatched the Skittles before he could see what those words did to me and popped one into my mouth. A sharp tang burst across my tongue, making me wince slightly before I sucked in a slow breath through my teeth.

Jake glanced sideways, clearly pleased with himself. I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips.

"So... your parents," I said, shifting the subject before I did something reckless, like melt into the passenger seat.

Jake hummed, his fingers drumming against the wheel. "What do you want to know?"

"What should I expect? Are they the type to put me through an interrogation or—?"

"Oh, definitely an interrogation," he said without missing a beat. "They already have a whole file on you. Background checks, credit history, medical records—"

I narrowed my eyes. "You're a terrible liar."

"Fine, fine." He smirked, shooting me a quick look before turning back to the road. "Mom's the emotional one. She'll probably hug you within two seconds of meeting you. Dad's quieter, but he'll like you. And Kaylee... well, she's unpredictable. Prepare yourself."

"Great. Can't wait."

"Relax," he said, his voice softer now. "They're going to love you."

I wanted to believe that. I really did.

But I wasn't like Jake. I wasn't the kind of person people kept in their lives. I was a visitor—a temporary guest in worlds I didn't belong to.

A hand suddenly slid over mine, warm and reassuring.

I looked down, realizing Jake had reached across the console, his fingers curling around mine with effortless ease. His thumb moved absentmindedly, tracing light circles against my skin.

"Hey," he murmured, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "You're not alone in this, okay?"

Something inside me cracked wide open. I swallowed hard, nodding. "Okay."

He smiled, satisfied, but he didn't let go of my hand.

Then, after a beat, he added with a grin, "But, you know, if it all gets to be too much, we can always steal a couple of sleeping bags, disappear into the wilderness, and live off the land."

That startled a laugh out of me. "Wow. So your grand escape plan is to become a woodland hermit?"

"Obviously. I think we'd make great fugitives. You can charm the local townsfolk for supplies, and I can build us a treehouse."

"Yeah, I'll pass. Thanks," I said, still smiling as I turned toward him.

And before I could second-guess myself, I leaned in and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to his cheek.

Jake's hand tightened around mine, just slightly, and when I pulled away, I didn't miss the way his smile softened.

"No wilderness escape, then?"

"Not tonight, Parker," I replied, my thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.

And just like that, I let myself hold on—to him, to this moment, to whatever this was—because, for now, it was enough.

The car slowed as we turned onto a quiet, tree-lined street, the golden hues of autumn stretching endlessly in both directions. My fingers curled tighter around the seatbelt as I caught my first glimpse of Jake's childhood home.

A modest but warm-looking house sat at the end of the driveway, nestled beneath the gentle glow of a porch light. The swing on the front porch swayed lazily in the breeze, creaking softly like it had carried years of quiet conversations.

A red firetruck's mailbox stood proudly by the curb, its paint chipped in places but still bold, still standing. A few carved pumpkins lingered near the doorstep—remnants of a Halloween that had long passed—but the windows, glowing from within, told me everything I needed to know.

It wasn't just a house. It was a home. And for some reason, that made my stomach twist.

Jake put the car in park, glancing at me with that infuriatingly charming smirk. "Last chance for the great wilderness escape."

I let out a slow breath, forcing a light laugh. "Tempting. But I think I'll survive."

He held my gaze for a second longer, something unreadable flickering in his green eyes. Then, without a word, he reached over, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my cheek in the process.

"Emma," he said softly, "you couldn't mess this up if you tried."

A warmth spread through my chest, but I swallowed against it.

"And besides," he added, his lips twitching into another smirk, "my mom already wants to adopt you, so it's too late to back out now."

I huffed out a laugh. "Great. Can't wait for the paperwork."

Jake chuckled before stepping out of the car. I lingered for a second, taking one last breath before following.

Before I could fully prepare myself, the front door swung open.

"There's my boy."

Elizabeth Parker.

A woman stepped onto the porch, her expression lighting up the second she saw Jake. She had Jake's eyes, but even warmer—like they held a lifetime's worth of love, like she could will the entire world into safety with just a look.

Jake barely had time to react before she pulled him into a hug, squeezing him with a force that only a mother could.

"Jeez, Mom." Jake chuckled, hugging her back. "I was literally here two months ago for Dad's birthday."

"Two months is too long," Elizabeth said before pulling back, her gaze shifting immediately—landing on me.

I barely had time to react before she pulled me into a hug, too. I stiffened, instinct kicking in—because no one usually hugged me like this. But Elizabeth just held me tight, like she had known me for years. Like she already cared.

"It's so good to finally meet you, sweetheart," she said, squeezing me once before stepping back, her hands lingering on my arms like she wasn't quite ready to let go.

"Uh, hi," I managed, caught completely off guard. "It's really nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker."

She scoffed. "Oh, honey, it's Elizabeth. Better yet, just call me El. 'Mrs. Parker' makes me feel like I'm back teaching in a classroom."

I let out a small laugh. "Got it, El."

Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she stepped back, giving me a once-over like she was already filing away details for later.

"You have no idea how thrilled I am." She grinned. "I finally get to have a real conversation with someone who knows the difference between a Monet and a Manet."

Jake groaned beside me, running a hand down his face. "You just met her, Mom. Maybe let her breathe before you start planning museum trips."

"Oh, hush." Elizabeth waved him off. "You don't understand. Do you know how starved I am for this? Jake and Derek are great, but art to them is basically, 'that painting has nice colors.' And Kaylee—well... she has opinions."

"Rude," a voice chimed from the doorway.

I looked up just as a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped outside. He was quieter than Elizabeth, his presence less outwardly warm but steady in a way that told me he had never missed a thing in his life. His brown eyes studied his son for a long moment.

He didn't smother Jake in affection like his wife had, but the way he looked at him—that quiet, unwavering pride. The kind I knew had nothing to do with the badge Jake carried and everything to do with who he was.

"Welcome home, son," he said simply, clapping a firm hand on Jake's shoulder.

And just like that, something in Jake softened. I watched the way his posture shifted—how something in him uncoiled, like the weight of the world had lifted just slightly.

"Hey, Dad," Jake said, his voice quieter now, more familiar.

Derek nodded, squeezing his shoulder once before turning to me.

"And you must be Emma," he said, his voice as steady as I expected, but gentler than I thought it would be.

"That's me," I said, offering my hand.

Derek shook it, his grip firm but not overbearing. He studied me for a beat, like he was taking stock—not in a hostile way, just... assessing.

"Good to finally meet you," he said, giving a small, approving nod.

"You too, Mr. Parker."

"Derek," he corrected. "'Mr. Parker' was my father, and he's been dead for fifteen years."

I let out a breathy chuckle. "Right. Derek."

Before I could fully process how much calmer Jake looked just being here, a blur of blonde hair shot down the porch steps.

"Oh my God, you actually brought a girl home?"

And that must be the infamous Kaylee.

She launched herself at Jake, flinging her arms around his neck as she practically climbed him like a koala.

"Missed me?" Jake asked, laughing as he steadied her.

"Not really," Kaylee teased, beaming up at him. "But I figured if you actually went through the trouble of bringing someone home, she must be pretty damn special."

Her gaze shifted to me, and suddenly, I was under inspection.

Kaylee had her father's deep brown eyes, sharp and unreadable. She carried herself with the kind of confidence that told me trust wasn't something she gave freely—it had to be earned. There was curiosity in her gaze, sure, but beneath it lay something fiercely protective. Like she was sizing me up, deciding whether I was worth letting in.

"So," she said, crossing her arms, "you're the one my brother hasn't shut up about."

Jake groaned, dropping his head back. "Kaylee, I swear to God—"

I grinned. "Is that so?"

Kaylee smirked. "Oh yeah. You should hear the way he talks about you."

"Kaylee—"

"All dreamy and pathetic—"

"That's it, I'm leaving," Jake muttered, already turning toward the house.

I laughed, watching as Kaylee practically bounced on her toes, clearly delighted by her own antics.

Then she turned back to me, her smile still playful, but her tone shifting just slightly.

"Look," she said, lowering her voice. "Jake's kind of a pain in the ass, but he's also the best person I know. So I'm just saying—" She pointed at me with narrowed eyes "—don't screw with him, okay?"

My stomach twisted at how familiar those words sounded. How many times had I told myself the same thing? That Jake was too good for me. That I didn't belong in his world. And now, my biggest fear wasn't him leaving—it was him knowing the truth. Seeing me for what I really was. Hurting him. Breaking his heart.

I didn't even know if I could live with that.

But instead of letting any of it show, I lifted a brow, masking the turmoil with a smirk. Deflect. That was what I did best.

"What if he screws with me?" I challenged.

Kaylee paused, considering, then grinned. "Then I'll help you bury the body."

I laughed, and just like that, her posture eased.

"Come on, Emma," she said, looping an arm through mine. "I need details. How on earth did you put up with my brother long enough to date him?"

Jake grumbled. "Oh my God."

I smirked at him, letting Kaylee drag me toward the house.

And for once, I didn't feel like an outsider.