“I do say so,” Jake said. “Um…” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he got up instead. “I guess we should go.” He looked guiltily at the sketchbook. “Unless there was any other stuff—?”
“No, not unless you wanted to change anything else.” Gabe snatched up his sketchbook, doing his best to hide the stupid letdown he was feeling. It wasn’t as if he’d been expecting Jake to throw himself at him, but Gabe could’ve done without the skittishness, or Jake suddenly looking anywhere but at Gabe’s face.
“Great,” Jake said. He pulled his sunglasses from where he’d tucked them into his collar but just fiddled with them instead of putting them on. His eyes were still scarily bloodshot, despite how Jake didn’t seem any less sober. It made Gabe feel even worse about accusing him of being drunk earlier. “So, what happens now?”