Jameson's Addiction

by Glenna Maynard

  “Nah, we are nowhere near close for something that big.”

  “I am sure you will be.” She’s leaning against the kitchen counter, looking so sweet and so sure of me.

  “You’ve never heard us play.” I grab her string cheese from her hands and take a bite.

  “You gotta thing for swapping spit with me?” She questions and my face goes red. Not because I am embarrassed for eating after her, but swapping spit makes me think of kissing.

  Is that what she means?

  Should I kiss her?

  Do I want to kiss her?

  My palms are sweaty. I’ve kissed a girl before, but this is Fancy. She’s still leaning against the counter, waiting for me to say or do something. She’s smirking at me, taunting me with her lips. Her brownish green doe eyes are soft and warm, inviting me in.

  Just when I am about to make my move the sound of a car pulling into the carport stops me. I let out an exasperated breath. Peyton doesn’t notice the disappointment and relief I am feeling as it crosses my face. She’s still grinning. I kiss her forehead instead and she goes still. Her heart is beating fast as is mine. “One day, Fancy, we are going to swap spit, but it won’t be from my eating after you.” I push away from her as she lets the meaning of my words settle in that creative mind she has. “I’ll see you later.” I walk out the front door as her Nana is walking into the kitchen.

  Chapter 8

  Peyton

  It’s been a few hours since I laid eyes on Jameson and I’m still shaken up. I had five years without him, and now I am consumed with thoughts of him as if he never left. Jameson was my life, my whole world revolved around him and his band.

  I lost myself when Jameson left me.

  “How was your day?” Wes asks, kissing me on the cheek as he comes in from work.

  “Good, I’m tired. Barb is driving me crazy with all the tiny details.” I tell him, rolling my eyes.

  He loosens his tie and frowns at me. “I thought women loved all this wedding business. Don’t you start planning as a kid,” he teases.

  “I’m not most girls.” I smile. A wedding—marriage, was never on the table for me really. Jameson got that about me. He knew I never wanted to plan ahead. I have always loved just living in the moment. At least I did until…I can’t think about that right now.

  Some days I feel as if Wes doesn’t know me at all. He sees me as arm candy and his way to get my dad to make him a full partner. Not that Barb would care. My Dad might but he’d probably keep his mouth shut. He isn’t big on confrontation outside of the courtroom.

  “What’s for dinner?” He talks over me ignoring my comment.

  “I ordered a pizza. It’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Damn it, Pey, I expect a warm meal on the table when I come through the door,” he says gruffly stomping his way to the shower.

  I sigh and get a glass of water. Things between us haven’t been so hot for a while now. I don’t know what I am doing with him. I guess he’s my safety net. I should probably call things off all together. I know that. I’ve known that since he proposed, but it was like an automatic impulse to say yes. We were at a firm function and everyone was staring at me. I felt too much pressure and Wes seemed so happy I didn’t want to disappoint him. Then Barb jumped on me with all these wedding plans and before I knew it a date had been set.my father was so happy seeing us spend time together. I know I can’t live my life to please them all but it’s not a fight I want to have right now.

  I planned on cooking dinner, but I was distracted. I was cleaning out more of my things from my Nana’s and came across my scrapbook. The one I made with Jameson. I spent a majority of my day curled up in bed, reliving the past, page by painful page. I have been slowly clearing my old room out and moving things here or into storage. Mostly into storage. Maybe a part of me hopes this wedding won’t happen. I’m a horribly selfish person. The situation is complicated though. Too many people are involved and counting on me.

  The doorbell buzzes with our pizza. I already paid when I ordered online. I still tip the guy a few extra dollars even though I added a tip when I paid.

  Wes comes down the hall drying his dark hair with a towel. He sits at the counter while I get him a plate and a beer. Sometimes I feel more like his personal assistant than his girlfriend. I’m always running his errands and waiting on him it seems. Not that I mind doing little things to help him out, but if I ask for him to do something for me, he’s too busy, and I don’t understand the stress he’s under. So he says anyway.

  “What are you and the girls up to this weekend? I have a meeting with a client Friday night and a dinner with my parents Sunday.”

  “Actually, we’re going out Saturday to do some shopping for the honeymoon, I still haven’t found a bathing suit I feel will wow you.” He smiles at that. “Then a light lunch and a massage. I’ll probably go back to the room for a nap before we do dinner and go out dancing. My bridal shower is Sunday.”

  He snarls and says, “So you’re basically saying you made plans around mine, so I won’t get any time with you. That's just great, Peyton.” He pushes from his stool shaking his head and muttering.

  Just as he slams his plate in the garbage my cell phone rings.

  “Hello,” I answer softly, cringing as I see Wes getting agitated. He thinks I should ignore my phone completely when we are together. I agree to a point, but I like being available to my grandparents. They are used to me living with them and being able to count on me.

  “Peyton Mathews?” The cheery woman asks.

  “Yeah…” I walk to the other side of the room away from Wes so he can’t eavesdrop.

  “Do you have what it takes to be the next Nashville Star? Because you’ve made it through the final round. Filming begins next week.”

  I drop my phone. I had forgotten all about the audition video Ruby Jane talked me into sending in months ago. Scrambling for my phone, I squeal. On the inside I am scared that Wes won’t support me in this. He thought the whole idea of it was childish.

  Wes is staring, shooting daggers at me like I have a second head as I write down the information even though the woman said I would get an email telling me when to come in for paperwork.

  “What’s going on, Pey?” Wes crosses the room glancing at my notes.

  “I’m gonna be on TV,” I announce with a huge grin, and he frowns, pinching the brow of his nose.

  “You’re doing what?” His arms grip my shoulders, not loving and supportive but hard and abrasive.

  I remind him about the audition tape and Ruby Jane talking me into it and he’s not happy, as I suspected. How in the hell can I turn this down though? Going on national television and the world hearing me sing, seeing me perform…I feel dizzy with excitement. It has always been a dream of mine.

  “You really want this? What about the wedding?” Wes squeezes my arms tighter and kisses the top of my shoulder in a poor attempt at being sweet.

  I freeze, the wedding. Damn, I can’t postpone the wedding…can I?

  Singing is my dream, but this wedding is Wesley’s.

  “I don’t know.” Tears well up in the corners of my eyes. I know we need to talk about us…the wedding…everything.

  Wes spins me around, his blue eyes intense and dark, gaping into mine. “You still want to marry me, don’t you, Peyton?” His voice is desperate. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m just stressed out from work. I love you so much. You know that, don’t you?”

  I nod because if I speak, I am afraid I will say the words, “I’m sorry Wesley, I don’t think I want to marry you.” To be honest, I never did. Not really. I liked spending time with him, but he was safe. Sure, he’s handsome, and successful, but there’s no spark. I just wanted someone in my life instead of random meaningless sex. I wanted someone to share my life with but the longer I am with him the more I realize we have nothing in common. We both settled. He must know that on a deeper level.

  His lips brush against mine, and I feel not
hing. I think deep down I’ve always known I don’t want to marry him. I’m so damn selfish. His lips seek out mine again, trying to garner a response from me. I kiss him back, but I’m not here right now with him. I’m remembering my first kiss with Jameson and wishing I could feel an inkling of what I felt for that boy for Wes.

  Flashback

  I just got back from vacation with my Dad and Barb. They took me with them to the beach. It was miserable. It was raining most of the time we were there, and they wouldn’t let me do anything on my own. Dad would say, “Petty,” that is what he calls me when he is mad at me. “You’re just fourteen, what if some strange man grabbed you and I never saw you again?”

  I said to him, “They’d just bring me back.” He didn’t find it as funny as Barb did.

  And Barb, good grief, the woman kept trying to take me shopping, wanting to buy me floral dresses that looked like something one of my Nan’s friends would dress in. Hideous old people looking stuff. This weekend is The Ultimate Horror Survival camp out and I cannot wait. My dad doesn’t want me going but my Nana already ordered my tickets. I reserved four. I hope Jameson was able to get his friends to go with us. I could ask Josh, but he thought it was lame last time I mentioned it to him.

  I haven’t had a chance to change out of this dress Barb insisted I wear to lunch before she drove me home, but I did put shorts on under it, so it isn’t so bad. I am scared that my dad will try to make me live with them again. I think that is why they took me on vacation with them — to see how we would get on. Thankfully, not well. It really isn’t my fault. Barb doesn’t get my sense of humor. She hates when I talk about slasher films or dead stuff. Dying is a part of life. I don’t see what the problem is.

  I am checking the mail by the end of the driveway for my Pappy when Jameson rolls up on his Uncle Rodney’s riding lawnmower. “Wanna go for a ride?”

  He looks so cute with his sleeveless muscle tee on, sunglasses, and a ball cap on his head.

  “Let me run this inside.” I wave the mail at him. He gives me a chin lift.

  Dashing inside, I nearly topple over my Pappy at the door. “Here,” I say, shoving the mail in his hands frantically.

  “Where you off to?” He asks looking startled by the near heart attack I about gave him when I rushed through the door.

  “I’m going around the block with Jameson on his mower.” My Pappy shakes his balding head and tells me to have fun.

  Running back outside, I try to mask my excitement at seeing him. I was only gone for a week, but I have gotten used to seeing him every day. It’s totally going to suck when he goes home at the end of the summer. Jameson just gets me. He makes me feel okay to be me. He doesn’t get all weird when I talk about death or ask questions like, “How many people do you think have died by some freak accident on a lawnmower?”

  He says, “I don’t know, Fancy, but I’ll find out,” as if it is the most natural question on Earth. He whips out his cell phone and looks it up for me. “Seventy-five.”

  “Better drive safely, lawn boy,” I tease hoarsely in his ear, and he barks with laughter.

  He puts us in gear as I settle between his legs. We jerk forward, both of us laughing. He drives us down the asphalt slowly, the neighbors gawking. Some shake their heads while others smile. My hands rest on his knees as he steers with his arms caging me against his chest.

  “This week without you sucked,” he says against the shell of my ear making me shiver even though the sun is still blazing down on us. Tennessee summers are brutal.

  We round the corner turning down the street Josh lives on. He is shooting hoops in his driveway with some of his butthole friends that he never wants to allow to see him with me. He sees us and hollers at Jameson to stop.

  “Wanna play, man?” He looks over me like I’m not even here.

  Jameson is right, Josh is a jerk, but he is one of my only other friends. And at the end of summer Josh will still be here while Jameson won’t be.

  “You can play if you want, I can walk back home. No big deal.” I shrug my shoulders secretly hoping Josh invites me to stay.

  Jameson tenses, his body going rigid against my back. “Nah, thanks though.”

  “Guess I will see you guys this weekend for the campout?” Josh says.

  My brows go up. I didn’t invite him.

  “Yeah, see ya,” Jameson says gruffly, irritation lacing his voice.

  We take off rougher than before, and I nearly bust his nose with the back of my hard head. He drives us to the park in silence. He cuts through the playground, driving to my favorite spot in the trees. I pry the back of my dress that clings to his sweaty chest from him as I get off the mower.

  “You invited Josh to go for my birthday?” I am shocked really. I don’t get the vibe that Jameson even likes him.

  He removes his sunglasses, resting them on his backward turned ball cap. His eyes slant in my direction as his pinches the bridge of his nose. “Don’t get mad, but while you were away, I went swimming at Karson’s with her and Josh. I may have mentioned we needed two more to go camping, and Karson invited herself, so Josh said he wanted to come too.”

  “Do you want Karson there? She totally hates the ground I walk on.” I cast my eyes away from him. Does he like her? She must like him. Why else would she want to go? And for my birthday!

  “I’m sorry, Fancy. I didn’t know how to tell them no. But I will go over and tell her right now that she can’t come, if that’s what you want.” He takes my hand stroking his thumb over my knuckle.

  How can I be mad at a face like his? Jameson is totally adorable. I hate seeing him pout at me. I pinch his lip. “Stop pouting. We needed them so we can go anyway.”

  He grins at me and pinches my lip back between his rough fingers. “Okay. Wanna watch a movie?”

  “Nope.” I pop the P. “I wanna go swing.” I take off through the trees back to the park with Jameson running after me.

  I glance back at him as he closes in on me, hooking me around my waist and swinging me around. I knock his sunglasses off and steal his hat.

  He lets go to pick his sunglasses up, so they don’t get crunched under our feet. He laughs as I strike a pose with his cap on my head, rocking it sideways. I throw up a peace sign and he loses it, cackling like a hyena, holding his ribs.

  “What, I don’t look good?” I pucker my lips.

  He snatches his hat back. “Don’t ever turn into one of those girls. I love you just the way you are.”

  My cheeks flame at the word love. No one ever loves anything about me. There goes the Pop Rocks bursting in my tummy. Jameson takes a seat on the tire swing and I straddle his lap, facing him so we can swing together. He puts his ball cap back on my head before pushing off with his feet.

  “I take that back. My hat looks perfect on you,” he says softly, staring at me with a goofy expression on his face. He’s smiling crookedly.

  Our fingers are pressing into the chain-link that suspends the seat as Jameson pumps us higher. I throw my head back, my hair grazes the dirt, and I lose his hat, but he doesn’t say anything.

  When we come to a stop, I am dizzy, and I lay my head on his shoulder waiting for my brain to stop spinning.

  “I wonder how many people have died from a swing set,” Jameson murmurs into my hair.

  I giggle.

  And then he kisses me.

  The world stops.

  God, does he kiss me.

  My lips part for him and his tongue slides against mine, so warm and inviting.

  I never want to stop kissing Jameson Lewis.

  Kiss me

  Kiss me under the stars

  Kiss me under the sun

  Kiss me stupid

  Kiss me with all that you are

  Be mine forever

  Be mine and more

  The Present

  I break out of the memory and push Wes away as he tries to slip his hand down my pants. “Stop. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I can’t marry you.” I don’t even wait
for a response. I rush up to the guest room, lock the door, and sit on the bed. Did I really just do that? Did I really just call off my wedding to chase a dream?

  And what if I don’t win? I’ll be back at square one.

  Shit, Barb is gonna hear about this and it’s gonna be a war. The only person I know that would support me one hundred percent and actually be happy for me is Ruby Jane. She doesn’t want me with Wes. Of course, she thinks I belong with her brother.

  “Peyton.” Wes bangs on the bedroom door.

  “We’ll talk later. Okay?”

  He doesn’t answer me. I know I’m hurting him. I wish I had never said yes to marrying him. I wish I could go back and change it all. I’ve made so many mistakes but in life we don’t get to go back. If only time travel were real like in my books.

  Laying back on the pillows, I let out a sigh and let my tears fall.

  Eventually, I drift off to sleep. I can worry about this all tomorrow.

  Chapter 9

  Jameson

  I am really excited about this opportunity. There’s nothing like your first big break, and the fact that I am going to help in someone feeling the rush makes my dick hard. I dress in my lucky white t-shirt and throw on a black plaid shirt over it with my ripped jeans and a pair of shit kicking boots. A quick rub over my head with a towel and I’m ready to roll.

  The cab drops me off at the front entrance of Pure Country, the company producing the show.

  I’m rock ‘n roll, but this will be great for widening my audience. I smoothly walk over to the blonde with perky tits, manning the reception desk. I flash a wicked grin and in a blink of an eye she is stuttering to make sure if I need anything and she does mean anything, at all, to please let her know and she will accommodate me appropriately. I kiss her hand and whisper, “Honey, I’ll be sure to call your name if my needs aren’t being met.”

  She melts back into her leather chair; probably so wet she’s stuck to the damn thing. I’m merely guessing, but by the moan that left her lips when my skin touched hers was a dead giveaway. I leave the receptionist to daydream about running away with me and step into the elevator. I laugh to myself. I didn’t even catch her name. Sometimes it’s too damn easy, but then again, so are the women.