Rules for Dating Your Ex

by Piper Rayne

  The waiter walks away, and Sedona busies herself with taking her silverware out of the cloth napkin and laying it over her lap.

  “Sedona?”

  She peeks up at me and shakes her head.

  “You know you can order whatever you want.”

  “No. I’m not doing that. I’m not going to sit here and drink in front of you.” She leans back and crosses her legs under the table.

  “You can. I’m good. I’ve been around people drinking since rehab. I’m not going to—”

  She puts up her hand. “Jamison, I love you, I always have, and I’m not going to sit here and enjoy something that might be tempting for you. It’d be like if I were on a diet and you decided to sit in front of me and eat a chocolate cake.”

  I chuckle. “I think you mean if I was eating a carton of ice cream.”

  “True. A carton of cookies ‘n cream ice cream.”

  “Honestly though, I’m good with you drinking. If we’re going to move forward, which I hope we are, you can’t just refuse to drink when I’m around. That’s no life for you. Yer not the one with the problem. I am.”

  “You can’t force me to drink.”

  The waiter interrupts us, placing the sodas on the table. “Do you know what you’d like to eat?”

  “Can we have a minute?” I ask.

  The waiter nods and heads over to the other tables he’s responsible for.

  Sedona picks up the menu. “What looks good? I think I’m going to have the tilapia.”

  “I’m not gonna drop this. This is a thorn in the side for us moving forward, and I’d really like to remove it.” I put down my menu, but she keeps reading hers.

  “You have to pick two sides. Want to share?” She tips her menu down. “I mean, is that weird since we’re not really a couple—” I steal her menu. “Jamison!” she whisper-shouts.

  “We’re not going to ignore this issue. We can’t.”

  Her shoulders sink. “Can we please just order?”

  This isn’t the Sedona I know. She doesn’t ignore a problem, hoping it will go away on its own. She’s the type who organizes and cleans her junk drawer until every item has a spot.

  “We can’t until we talk this over.”

  “I get it, okay? But I don’t see what the big deal is that I want to support you and not drink.” She crosses her arms.

  “I appreciate it, and that’s not what I’m saying. It’s the fact you don’t want to talk about it.”

  She leans forward. “What exactly is it?”

  “My addiction. My alcoholism.”

  She tears her gaze from mine and chews on the inside of her lip. The waiter starts to approach, but I put up my hand, and he circles back around to the bar area.

  “It’s not easy, okay? It’s the one thing you chose over me,” she says.

  “It was never a choice.”

  She nods a few times as though that makes sense. “But it felt like it. Like you chose alcohol over us.”

  A tear slips down her cheek. Fuck me. How did I not see this?

  I hold my open palm out for her hand. She glances at it and her hand slowly meets mine. I run my thumb over her knuckles. “My addiction had a power over me that it doesn’t anymore. I’d never willingly pick anything over you and Palmer. You have to believe me.”

  She uses her other hand to wipe her tears. “I do. I know it’s a disease, and you didn’t really choose it per se, but I hate it. It’s what took you away from me.”

  “Believe me, I hate it too, but it’s my reality. And suppressing my feelings and not trying to work out problems is what got me there in the first place. Now when something comes up, I need to deal with it right away.”

  Her fingers grip my hand. “I am really proud of you. I don’t think I’ve told you that.”

  The cracks in my heart that formed when I ruined my life with Sedona fill and heal with her words. “Thank you. But I don’t want you to change your life for me.”

  She sits up straighter. “Don’t you see, Jamie? I would stop eating cookies ‘n cream ice cream for you. I’d do just about anything to make sure you’re happy. And if it means I don’t drink wine, I don’t really care.”

  “Just know it’s an option. I won’t bounce out of the wagon because you had one glass of wine.”

  She nods. “Okay.”

  “Have you thought about going to Al Anon? It might help you.”

  “I tried when I first had Palmer, but I never followed up with it. Maybe I’ll try again.” She smiles. “So how about we try to have a normal date without carrying the weight of all the baggage?”

  I clear my throat, hand her back the menu, and look mine over. “I was going to have the special. Figure the catch of the day has to be fresh.”

  “I think I’m going to stick with the tilapia. Would you like to share some sides? I promise I don’t have cooties.” She grins. God, I love seeing that on her face again.

  “I’d love nothing more than to get your cooties. You pick.”

  We finally settle into our dinner, pushing away all our issues so that we can just be Jamison and Sedona again.

  Twenty-Three

  Sedona

  My cheeks hurt from laughing through dinner. I forgot how much Jamison made me laugh with his stories.

  “And I had to climb the stairs to get on the subway system. I thought they ran underground.” He’s telling a story about the Chicago transit system.

  “There weren’t signs?” I quirk an eyebrow.

  He guffaws. “Not that I saw.” But the tint in his cheeks says he’s embarrassed, thinking back on the story.

  The waiter interrupts our laughter with a platter with a silver dome cover on it. We glance at one another because we know this isn’t the cobbler we ordered to share.

  “Grandma Dori?” I say.

  “Or her sidekick.” He slides it my way. “Want to do the honors?”

  I put my hand on the handle. “Not really, but…” I lift the silver dome and inside is a keycard. Picking up the keycard, I find a small note. “And we have a note.”

  Jamison takes the keycard, reading the name of the bed-and-breakfast that’s attached to the restaurant. “This is such a Bachelor moment.”

  I laugh because he hated when I forced him to watch it with me. “I think she’s thrown subtlety out the window.”

  I straighten the note to read it. Sure enough, Grandma had someone write the note for her.

  * * *

  You’ve won one night’s stay at the SunBay Inn! A beautiful suite with a view of the famous Sunrise Bay is awaiting the two of you to enjoy. Please see the innkeeper next door, and don’t worry, all toiletries are included. Wink wink.

  Good for tonight only.

  Cannot be redeemed for cash value.

  * * *

  I hand the note to Jamison and he reads it. “Does the ‘wink wink’ mean what I think it means?”

  “Oh, if I told you what happened to me earlier at Clip and Dish, you wouldn’t look so surprised.” Just the thought of Grandma Dori talking about waxing—and oh, I can’t. Although I understand her persistence now.

  “Aren’t you still unable to do anything?”

  I tilt my head, my smile betraying me. “Is someone keeping track?”

  His smoldering eyes lock with mine and he leans forward, lowering his voice. “Once I get the green light from you, I’m not about to stop myself. But I knew we had to wait, so I’ve mentally prepared myself.”

  “Lucky for you, the doctor gave me the okay.”

  “But aren’t you still in pain?” He eyes my stomach as if it’s a gaping wound.

  “Not really. I mean, more the inside, like when I laugh or cough, but I could probably manage. You know, if I really had to.”

  A smirk crosses his lips. “And do you have to?”

  I pick up the note and tap my lips with it. “I’m not sure. I think I’d like to give it a try.”

  Jamison raises his hand. “Check, please!”

  I laugh.


  After Jamison pays, we walk out of the restaurant to the inn, where we locate our room listed on the keycard.

  “You know there’s going to be rose petals and God knows what else in there?” I say as he inserts the card, waiting for the green light.

  “All I care about is having you in the room with me. Alone.”

  Then we’re in the room. A silent room. A room with just us and no distraction of Palmer. And it all becomes very real. I’m going to have sex with Jamison Ferguson for what feels like the first time when it’s really probably the hundred thousandth time. I feel as if we’re two different people.

  He deadbolts the door, and I’m thankful we have our own bathroom.

  There are no rose petals strewn on the bed, but there is a basket with some snacks, waters, and condoms. I pick up the package. “I guess they took care of everything.”

  He shrugs out of his suit jacket and tosses it on the armchair. Then he’s coming toward me and my throat closes up.

  “I come to you in peace.” He holds up both hands because I’m sure I look as nervous as I feel. I nod, and his hands take the box of the condoms from my hand. “Dori alone was bad enough, but with Ethel, they could rule the world.” He places the condoms on the table. “No pressure, Sedona. I know I’ve been making cracks, but if yer not ready, then it’s fine.”

  His hands settle on my hips, and all I really want to do is walk into his arms and have him hold me.

  “Can we start with a hug?” He opens his arms.

  I don’t wait a second before stepping into him. His big arms wrap around me like they always did, and I lay my head on his chest. His heartbeat pounds in my ear and I slide my arms around his taut waist.

  “I love you,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head. “Our time apart has been horrible. You might not believe me, but—”

  I draw back and place my finger on his lips. “No more talking about the past.”

  He nods, and I go back into the position of him holding me. Nothing makes me feel as safe and secure as Jamison’s arms. As though no one could harm me. We sway as if we’re dancing. He hums a song I haven’t heard before, but it’s slow and I like it.

  “What song is that?” I ask, not breaking our rhythm.

  He takes one hand off my back and pulls out his phone, thumbing through something before setting it on the table. Music plays. “It’s ‘I’m Yours’ by The Script. It just makes me think of you. Of us.”

  I rest my chin on his chest and look up at him. “Ever wonder how we found each other so young?”

  He kisses my forehead. “I would never question what brought me to you. I’m just thankful that I found you. I’m only upset about how much time I wasted.”

  I strip my gaze away from his. “There’s something I have to tell you,” I murmur into his chest. “Something that might change that look on your face.”

  He steps away from me, grabs his phone, and lowers the volume. “Come.” Taking my hand in his, he leads me to the edge of the bed. “Nothing will take this look off my face. Yer my entire world. You and Palmer.”

  But he’s wrong. What I’m about to tell him could change it, but if we’re going to truly start fresh, he needs to know. “Don’t say that yet.”

  “What is it?” He dips down so our eyes meet.

  “After Palmer was born, I fell into a bit of a depression. After her diagnosis, I didn’t know what to do. How to give her the life she deserved. Whether I could afford her medical costs or even help her. To be her advocate. The doctors said it was postpartum depression. Stella still reminds me that it happens to a lot of women, but I wasted time lying in bed, feeling sorry for myself, while my family helped take care of our daughter.”

  He closes his eyes.

  “I know. I’m sorry. Here I’ve made you feel horrible about not chasing us and not being there when I had my own secret.” Seriously, how hypocritical can I be?

  He laughs and puts his finger under my chin for me to look at him. “I love hearing you say our daughter. You’ve never referred to Palmer as our daughter.”

  She sighs. “Jamie, are you listening to me?” I stand from the edge of the bed. “I allowed others to care for her. I didn’t get out of bed. I lost all my baby weight plus more. If it wasn’t for Kingston and Stella, who knows what would’ve happened? I was a mess.”

  He leans forward with his forearms resting on his legs. “You were a young single mother who’d just found out her baby was deaf. That’s a challenge for anybody. I’m not trying to boost my ego, but you were still dealing with the loss of me in your life too.”

  “That’s no excuse. It’s a mother’s instinct to care for her child and I just left her with other people.” I stare at the floor and shake my head. He doesn’t understand the severity. I wasn’t taking care of our child.

  “I will not allow you to feel guilt for what was out of your control. Your hormones were going crazy, not to mention your life had just changed profoundly and then changed again with Palmer’s diagnosis. You were bound to crash. Yer not superhuman.” He stands and again urges me to look at him. “Didn’t we just say the past is the past?”

  “I wanted you to know. In case that changes anything.”

  He puts his hands on my cheeks to make sure I can’t tear my vision away. “All it makes me feel is more guilt that I allowed you to live through that alone. But I’m here to tell you that I’m never leaving your side again. End of story, okay?”

  I nod, not convinced. But I did forgive myself as much as I could a year ago—after a therapist told me that I can’t keep feeling guilty about the past. I have to live with it but forgive myself.

  “Can I kiss you now? You don’t have anything else to divulge to me?”

  I shake my head. “Conscience clear.”

  “Good.” He bends forward, and I rise on my tiptoes to meet him halfway.

  Our lips touch and I’ve never felt so much spark from one connection. It’s always been like this with Jamison. I inch closer, unable to be close enough to him, and his hands wrap around my back, molding to my hips until I’m flush against him.

  The kiss is hurried, our lips battling for dominance in a game that neither of us wants to lose. But it’s been so long. So long since I’ve been with anyone. My libido is as fast as a Learjet racing down a runway. I go from nothing to needy in an instant.

  “Take off my dress,” I say, falling down to my heels and turning around for him to get to the zipper.

  He lowers the zipper too slowly for my liking. If he ripped it, I wouldn’t be upset. His palms aren’t nearly as calloused as I’m used to when they skim across my shoulders, urging the fabric off my skin to pool around my waist. I’m about to push it to the floor when his lips press against my right shoulder blade.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispers. “Your beautiful body. The way your skin breaks out in goose bumps when I touch it. I can’t wait to hear the moans that float out of you.” His hands push the dress down from my hips and it cascades to the floor. His fingers unhook my bra and he slides it off my body until it joins my dress. “Still so damn beautiful. I’ve dreamed of this exact moment so many times during the years we’ve been apart, but none of it lives up to being here now, with you. To have my hands on your body, my lips on your delicate skin.”

  He clears his throat as though his emotions are getting the best of him. I circle around, and his gaze washes over my body up until it lands on my face again. There’s no disappointment or regret. If anything, his eyes only become more ravenous.

  “Make love to me, Jamie,” I say and wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my mostly naked body to his.

  His large hands slide under the elastic of my panties to grab my ass. Turning us around, he eases me down on the bed and I elbow my way up while he disrobes not nearly as fast as I’d like him too.

  “Grab the condoms,” I say right before he’s about to join me on the bed.

  “Good thing yer the smart one out of the two of us.” He tosses them on
the bed, and they land right next to my head.

  His lips fall to my skin and my eyes close, reveling in the feeling of being home again. All those fears about the changes in my body disappear. I should’ve known better. Jamison loves me, not my body.

  This man has owned me since the first time I saw him on my high school soccer field. From the first smile. First flirtatious glance. First handhold. The song he played is called “I’m Yours,” and that goes both ways for us. I’m his forever, and he’s mine.

  Twenty-Four

  Sedona

  Jamison’s lips stop at my C-section scar and I inhale a deep breath. He presses his lips to the scar and continues casting small kisses up my torso until his mouth covers my breast. He twirls his tongue around my nipple, making it grow harder. Good thing I stopped pumping two weeks ago, but I’m worried the stimulation might cause me to leak.

  Our legs are entwined as he kisses me, his hand on my throat, dictating where he wants me. His tongue runs up my neck, his hard length grinding into my center. I raise my hips to meet his and he chuckles, shaking his head. Then he disappears down my body, nestling himself between my legs. Both hands run along my inner thighs, widening me for him. He lightly kisses my clit and our gazes meet.

  “Ride my face?” he asks. Years ago, he would’ve just flipped me over and urged me above him. “I mean, if yer up for it.”

  I slide up in the bed. “Stop treating me like a grandma. Lay down, buddy.” I point at the bed.

  “Bad reference,” he says.

  I laugh. “I didn’t actually say Grandma D—”

  He shuts me up with a kiss that erases all memory of what I was saying. He lies down and his arms are bent beside his head as though he’s ready. I lay one knee on each side of his head. His hands run up my back and guide me down to his tongue that’s already poised and ready to taste me.