That single word, delivered harsh like the snap of a whip, reinforced Alyson’s concern. She would stay silent a while longer. She didn’t want to give him a reason to leave, to end what they had. Lifting her shoulder, she shrugged. “Too much caffeine, I think.”
A smirk formed on his upturned lips, and Jami directed her down to lie on his chest. With his chin in her hair, he teased, “Told you that you shouldn’t have had that last cup of pop.”
“When will I ever learn?” she said lightly. Her fingers smoothed across his broad chest as she peered out into the low light of the room. Shadows from the tree perched outside the window created dancing specters on the walls and ceiling, echoing the darkness in their lives at the moment.
Jami’s chuckle rumbled in her ear. “That I’m always right? Probably never, but I look forward to saying I told you so.”
As Jami’s fingers caressed her back, causing goose bumps to erupt down her arms and legs, Alyson closed her eyes and relished the perfection of the moment. No, she wouldn’t risk saying anything. Not until after the situation with Spencer was resolved. After that, she knew she wouldn’t be able to wait any longer. Jami deserved the truth. She just had to find the right time to give it to him.
SEVENTEEN
The damage was extensive. Alyson and Jami stood in the doorway leading into her apartment and surveyed the destruction. All of her furniture had been pushed to one wall. Giant plastic sheets covered everything, and the smell of mold and mildew permeated the air.
Men in white gauzy suits moved through the cramped space, carrying equipment back and forth. A giant blue hose ran from the living room window into the bathroom, whining caused by its powerful suction.
Beside her, Jami was speaking with Mr. Galling, her landlord. “How bad is the damage?”
Mr. Galling cast a thoughtful look toward the bathroom. “Well,” he said slowly, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. There was a time, before Jami, that Alyson thought Mr. Galling was attractive. With his long legs and firm, stocky build, his dark, gentle, but confident eyes were what captured her attention¸ but now she knew—he was just a poor substitute for the real thing. Jami had always been the scope she viewed men through and the standard she measured them against. “The apartment directly above has sustained considerable damage. From what I was told, the old lead pipes have been leaking for a while now. Most of the flooring will have to be replaced, but that’s only the cosmetics. We’ll be going apartment to apartment replacing all of the piping to ensure this doesn’t happen again.”
Alyson was only half listening. All she could see was her home in complete disarray and packed with strangers. She wasn’t allowed inside, not for anything. It was too dangerous. She’d grabbed some clothes and personal effects the day she left, but there were only so many times she could wear the same outfits before she began to feel the weight of homelessness pressing down on her.
God, she was homeless. And jobless. Even if Mr. Galling told her that she could move back in that minute, she’d given away all her money to help Jami. She’d never be able to pay the rent. She had only enough money in her wallet to feed herself for maybe a week. Then what? The realization that her entire life plan had been lost was enough to incite a panic attack. What would she do? Where would she go? She could stay with Jami or Liv, but those were temporary solutions. She refused to become anyone’s burden.
Suddenly, Alyson’s eyes burned, and her breath grew shallow. She had no plan, no recourse. She was up the proverbial shit creek without a paddle in sight.
Sensing her mounting distress, Jami’s hand pressed into her lower back, his thumb sneaking beneath the hem of her shirt and tracing small circles in her skin. Leaning into him, Alyson tried her best to absorb the strength he offered. His voice, deep and gruff, a comforting sound, he spoke. “It sounds like this is going to take some time,” Jami observed. “What are we looking at here? Another couple of weeks? A month?”
Mr. Galling looked away, his mouth forming a tight line. The news wouldn’t be good. When his pale blue-green eyes returned to Jami, his voice was grim. “To be frank, Mr. Weston—”
“Jami, please.”
He nodded. “Jami. I don’t want to give anyone false hope here.” He looked down at Alyson where she stayed tucked beneath Jami’s arm. “The building is old. There’re a lot of upgrades that need to be addressed before it would even be considered livable, and yours and the apartment above it are in the worst condition.”
Alyson’s brows puckered. “So… months?” she asked hopefully.
“I understand how hard this is for everyone involved, but I would have to recommend seeking other living arrangements. There’s no timeline I can give you right now. This is a massive undertaking with no foreseeable end. If you send me the information, I will make sure your belongings are packed up and shipped to you. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” Shaking Jami’s hand, he passed her an apologetic look and walked away.
Alyson and Jami stared at the empty space Mr. Galling had occupied, absorbing his words. Alyson heard them repeating in her head—other arrangements… foreseeable future… no timeline… I’m sorry.
So was she. It seemed her plans weren’t the only ones that had been thrown off course.
“It looks like I get to have you in my bed every night now,” Jami said as he pushed off the wall and turned them away from the scene.
Alyson’s head felt like it was navigating through a fog bank. She looked up at him, frowning. “I will?”
Jami’s mouth split into a wide grin, and he barked out a laugh. He released her shoulder and took her hand instead as they descended the stairs. “Of course. What did you think? You were going to stay in the basement?”
“Basement?” Alyson murmured.
“Obviously, you’ll be sharing my bed. I’ll clear a drawer for you. Unless you need two? And some space in the closet so your suits don’t get wrinkled.” He was rambling, the excitement of her staying with him infusing his voice, cranking it higher as they made their way back outside.
But Alyson wasn’t excited. Far from it. She saw the lies she’d told him closing in on her. Without a little space, she couldn’t expect to hide the truth for much longer. As soon as Jami realized she’d been fired, it would be over. Warily, Alyson climbed into the passenger seat and buckled herself in.
Jami was still talking excitedly, his words streaming together, as he ironed out their days together, rising in the mornings, and eating breakfasts, shared showers. Driving her to the job that she no longer had. It was all too much. Alyson felt the tears sting the back of her eyes and pressed her hands between her legs, willing herself not to cry.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Grasping her chin, Jami turned her head and leaned forward to see her face past the curtain of her long hair. “Did I say something wrong?”
The concern on his face and in his voice nearly did her in. Alyson shook her head as she fought for control. “No, you said everything right.” She sniffled. “It’s just a lot to take in.”
Looking out the windshield, Jami eyed the apartment building. “Yeah, I’m sure it is. You’ve lived here a long time, yeah?” Looking down at her hands, she nodded. Jami’s large hand landed on her knee and squeezed. “It sucks losing your home, but look at it this way. Now we can be together every day. No more bouncing around.” His dark eyes gleamed. “I can have my wicked way with you anytime I want.”
Alyson couldn’t suppress her smile. “Silver lining?”
The corners of Jami’s mouth inched up even higher. “Definitely a silver lining.”
Glancing back at the window that had been her living room, Alyson knew she couldn’t change what had happened any more than she could change the weather. She had to accept it and move on. Roll with the punches. Covering Jami’s hand with hers, she gripped his fingers. “All right then.”
Leaning over, Jami kissed her hair, and then threw the truck into reverse. “That’s my girl.”
***
Alyson sat on t
he edge of Jami’s bed with her bag at her feet. The shouting had started shortly after they arrived ‘home.’ She could still envision the scene clearly.
Jami opened the door and stood back to allow her inside. As Alyson stepped over the threshold, Don came walking out of the kitchen, an empty glass in one hand and a beer in the other. Sparky, his tiny terrier, trotted alongside him. The moment he saw Jami, he morphed into a ball of energy and shot after him, leaping up his legs until Jami took pity and scooped him into his arms.
The moment Don saw Alyson, his demeanor cooled. The instant he saw her bag hanging over Jami’s shoulder, his eyes narrowed to slits. “What’s with the bag?” he asked casually, as he seated himself in the center of the couch and kicked his feet up on the edge of the coffee table. The slippers he wore were gray with age, the orange foam cushion inside peeking through a tear in the fabric at both heels. He picked up the remote and clicked the television to life. The sound of sports newscast filled the living room.
Urging Alyson deeper into the room with his palm against her lower back, Jami set the dog back on the floor, ignoring his eager yips for attention. “Ally lost her apartment,” he told him. “She’ll be staying with us for a while.”
The air grew thicker the longer Don’s eyes lingered on the spot just beyond Alyson’s shoulder—the spot where Jami stood. The temperature in the room turned glacial. “Interesting,” Don commented, drawing the word out into eight or more syllables. “No family meeting?”
Feeling Jami stiffen at Don’s tone, Alyson moved toward the stairs at Jami’s silent insistence. “Didn’t think we’d need one.”
Don’s hard voice grew louder behind them. “On the contrary, this definitely calls for a meeting.”
Pausing on the stairs, Alyson turned back to face Jami. Reading the worry in her eyes, he took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the back of it. He smiled up at her. “Hey, why don’t you head on up, get comfortable. I’m going to talk to Don, then I’ll grab us something to drink. You hungry?”
Having lost her appetite somewhere between the front door and the stairs, Alyson shook her head. “Okay, then. I’ll be up in a minute.”
A minute turned into twenty. Twenty into forty. Almost an hour later, Alyson wasn’t sure how much longer she could sit there and listen to Don verbally insult everything about her. She was on the verge of racing back down the stairs and laying out every curse word she’d ever heard at his feet, but Jami seemed to have a pretty good handle on things. The last thing she wanted to do was get into the middle of a verbal sparring match. It probably wouldn’t do much good anyway. Don hated her, and Jami was determined to defend her. She loved him for it, she really did, but it just reminded her of how unwelcome she truly was in this house.
She should have closed the door, but instead, she kept it open so she could listen. Her ego had certainly taken a hit along the way, but more than anything, her heart hurt. How could she continue to sit there and allow these two men to tear each other’s throats out over her? It didn’t seem right.
When she heard the distinct sound of Jami’s boots stomping up the stairs, she lifted her chin. “Son of a bitch!” Kicking the door shut behind him, Jami began pacing the room, and his face tinged red with fury. “How dare he talk about you like that!”
Alyson watched, feeling strangely calm, as Jami cursed and railed. On one of his treks across the floor, he passed by the bookcase lined with sports memorabilia. Snatching a glass trophy, he lobbed it at the wall. Instead of shattering as she had expected it to, it broke in half, resting in a useless heap on the floorboards.
“Jami,” she said with her tone soft and hesitant.
“Fuck!”
He resembled a caged animal. If he were a cartoon, she would have expected steam to shoot out of his ears. Rising, she placed herself in his path. “Jami,” she repeated to his retreating back. At the sound of her voice, he whipped around. Taking three giant steps toward her, Jami grabbed her by the shoulders, drawing her up against his chest. She tried not to flinch away.
“Don’t you dare let him scare you off,” he snarled. “I don’t care what he said, you are staying here.”
Maintaining eye contact, Alyson cupped his face in her hands. “Maybe it would be best if I left—” Before she could finish her sentence, Jami released her and wheeled away.
“No. Out of the question.”
“But I’m sure Olivia will let me stay with her,” Alyson offered. “Really, it’s not a big deal. I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not imposing,” Jami said fiercely. Standing in front of the window, he braced his arms on the molding. “I promised you were staying here, and that’s what’s going to happen.”
Alyson stared at his big, strong back, her eyes skimming over all the sleek, hard muscle. Her hands itched to touch him, to feel the power under her hands. It took her a moment to refocus. Shaking her head, she silently reprimanded herself. This wasn’t the time to be thinking like that.
Sighing, she took cautious steps in his direction until she was standing right behind him. “I know you don’t want me to go,” she said quietly, risking touching him. The muscles in his shoulder jumped beneath her fingers. Gently, she pressed the full weight of her hand down, hoping to soothe him the slightest bit. “But this is Don’s home, not mine. He has the right to say who can stay and who can’t.”
“This is my home, too,” Jami said, his voice lacking force.
“Yes, it is, but it’s not mine.” She didn’t want to come right out and say the words knowing Jami would likely fly off the handle again. “Jami, I’ll go stay with Olivia. It’s not a big deal, and it will give you and Don some time to talk. I don’t want to be the reason you two are fighting.”
Turning, Jami set sad brown eyes on her. “Too late for that.” Alyson felt the pain in her chest increase. Setting his hands on her shoulders, Jami looked her in the eye. “I don’t understand where all this animosity comes from between you two. It doesn’t make any sense.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know what to say. Sometimes people just don’t get along, I guess.”
Releasing her, Jami scrubbed his hands down his face. “Yeah, I guess. So, what are we going to do about it?”
Alyson gave him a puzzled frown. “Do about it? I don’t know. Avoid each other like the plague?”
Jami’s head tilted. “Avoid each other? Not likely. How about something more practical, like talking?”
It wouldn’t work but… “It’s worth a try, but somehow I don’t think Don is in much of a talking mood when it comes to me. Yelling and anger seem more his style.”
Jami huffed, but a small smile touched his lips. “Yeah, that does seem more his level.” He eyed her long enough to make her squirm before speaking again. “One of these days, I’m going to get you two in a room together, and neither of you are leaving until this thing is hashed out.”
Alyson smiled tightly. He could certainly try. Walking to her bag, she crouched down and unzipped it. “I’ll see if I can get ahold of Liv. I have a key, so worst case, you’ll have to drop me off, and I let myself in.”
Jami’s hand appeared, taking the phone away from her. Startled, Alyson sat back on her haunches, her green eyes wide. “No,” Jami said, sounding like the caveman they had joked about him being. Rounding the bed, he opened the top drawer of his dresser and tossed the phone inside. “You don’t need to call anyone, because you’re staying right here.”
“Jami—”
“Just stop talking and get naked,” he ordered. In one swipe, he had the blankets on the bed pulled back. Reaching behind his head, Jami pulled his shirt off. His shoes came next, and then his pants. Standing in front of her in only a pair of boxer shorts, Alyson’s mouth watered. “Are you coming?”
She had a clever retort on the tip of her tongue but pressed her lips together. Instead, she said, “Jami, I should go. I know I said it before, but I mean it more than ever now. I don’t feel right staying here.”
Jami
wasn’t hearing any of it. Climbing into bed, he slid between the sheets and patted the empty space beside him. “Get in of your own accord, or I’ll put you in, but either way, you’re sleeping here tonight. This is non-negotiable.”
Alyson studied the hard lines of his face, seeing his determination. He didn’t intend to let her leave, leaving her with no recourse but to do as he asked. “Fine, but only because it’s late, and I’m tired. Tomorrow, we’re going to talk more about this.” Stripping down to her underwear, she got into bed.
Immediately, Jami’s arm came around her, gathering her up and manipulating her onto her side, so her back was against his chest. Burying his face in her hair, he tightened his hold. “Tomorrow,” he promised, and then kissed the space between her neck and shoulder before settling in to sleep.
EIGHTEEN
Alyson awoke to the feel of a hand slowly creeping up her inner thigh. Sleep still called to her, making her mind cloudy, but someone was definitely touching her. And she didn’t need to guess who that someone was.
As her brain slowly came online, she remained perfectly still, wondering impatiently what he would do and where he would go next. Jami didn’t disappoint.
Light as a feather, his touch incited goose bumps on her limbs, giving her the tiniest of shivers. The blankets, she realized, were long gone. Only the heat of his body pressed along her side remained, but it was enough to warm her. Her blood quickly heated as his hand inched higher, moving beneath the loose fabric of her boy shorts. Without a doubt, the tingling sensation growing between her legs had left her wet. She was definitely wanting.
When Jami’s fingers encountered her moist flesh, he hissed in a breath. Shifting, he pressed his cheek against hers, speaking softly, “Are you awake yet?”
“Mm.” That was the only answer she could summon, her concentration focused farther south.
“Mm, you’re awake, or mm, you’re asleep? Because I don’t mind either way. Your sweet little pussy has been calling to me all morning. It wants me, and my dick wants you.”
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