by C. J. Lake
For a heated moment, he considered sliding his palm around Sky’s neck and tugging her forward. Pulling her into a deep, smoldering kiss and showing her just how it would be with him…and then going home and finishing what they started in his bed.
But something stopped him from making that leap. What if she didn’t react the way he hoped, and then he lost her altogether? He could roll the dice with a girl he didn’t know as well, but Sky meant too much to him now.
“Another beer?” the bartender said as he circled back around.
“Nope. You can close out my tab,” Jamie told him, dropping his credit card on the bar. “We’re done here.”
Chapter 16
When Sky got to work the following afternoon, Elle, who had three more hours on her shift, was standing at the copier. “Yes! I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Hi,” Sky said, smiling as she shrugged off her jacket.
“I just got off the phone with Alison.”
“Yeah, um about this whole matchmaking thing,” Sky began, her tone already apologetic. “It’s enough already, you know? We gave it a try and—”
“Girl, I hear you,” Elle agreed, cutting her off and holding up her hand like a traffic signal. “I know it hasn’t exactly been a Prince Charming convention so far.”
“No, it’s not that,” Sky hastened to say. “Alison’s doing her part. Really. The guys seem okay, but they’re just not my type.”
“Uh-huh,” Elle mumbled under her breath, sounding doubtful of Sky’s whole premise. Then she neutralized her expression, as she pushed some thick blond, bouncy curls over her shoulder, and allowed Sky to finish.
“I think I’m sort of done with the whole thing.” And that was putting it mildly. After last night, she knew all these set-ups would be fruitless. She’d already fallen for another guy; he lived upstairs from her and she had absolutely no idea what, if anything, to do about it.
“Just wait!” Elle pleaded, even clasping her hands together in beg-position. “There’s one more guy you need to meet. Alison told me that she knows this is the one for you. Let me at least tell you about him,” she reasoned.
“Go ahead,” Sky said, humoring Elle, as she took a seat at the main desk.
“Well, his name’s Mike and he’s a florist, give it a chance,” Elle said in one big mouthful.
“A florist?” Sky groaned as she logged onto the computer.
“What’s wrong with that?” Elle protested immediately. “Why can’t a man love flowers? I do!”
“And you’re a girl,” Sky said flatly, pulling her phone out of her bag.
Clearly annoyed, Elle swatted down the folder she was holding. “That is so stereotypical!” she burst. “I’m surprised at you, Sky. That’s really narrow-minded and—”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Sky assuaged her. “I was just being sarcastic. I didn’t mean it. It’s totally fine if a guy loves flowers. In fact…it’s kind of nice,” Sky added, greatly exaggerating just to cover herself.
At that, Elle beamed a smile; good, she was pleased with her BFF again. “I am so glad you feel that way, because this guy sounds amazing.” She began enumerating Mike’s attributes with her fingers. “He’s tall, he’s a runner so he’s really fit, he’s a vegetarian—” Abruptly, Elle stopped talking as Sky picked up her cell and began typing. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, nothing,” Sky replied distractedly, “Just texting Jamie. You know, to get his take on this new guy.”
“God…” Elle lamented, rolling her eyes.
“What?” Sky said and stopped typing, startled by Elle’s sudden hostility.
Shaking her head, Elle blew out a sigh. “This thing with Jamie is so bogus.”
Sky pinched her brow. “Meaning what?”
“He obviously likes you. Has he given a thumbs-up to even one guy you’ve gone out with yet?”
“Well, he doesn’t think they’re any good.”
“He doesn’t think they’re good enough for you—because he wants you for himself,” Elle declared.
“No.”
“Yes.”
As Elle crossed to the file cabinet, Sky swiveled her chair in that direction and set her phone down. “So, if that’s true, why hasn’t he made a move on me then?” she asked, somewhat rhetorically—though, deep down, she’d love Elle’s take on it. In a way, Sky was relieved that Jamie hadn’t crossed that line, because the idea of a sexual relationship still made her anxious. On the other hand, she was palpably attracted to him, which meant she was frustrated and literally starting to ache...
Now Elle shrugged as she thumbed through folders in the top drawer. “Maybe he’s shy,” she offered.
With a scoff, Sky dismissed that theory. “C’mon you’ve met Jamie. He’s not shy.”
Elle glanced back with an isn’t-it-obvious? look. “It’s different when it’s the girl you like,” she said. As she shut the drawer, she sighed again and assumed a more diplomatic tone. “Look, maybe he doesn’t want to make a move and then become one of your castoffs.”
“Castoffs?” Sky repeated incredulously. “Please! You make it sound like I’m with a lot of guys or something.”
“Not at all!” Elle yelped, her blue eyes expanding, appearing somehow indignant and reassuring at the same time. “It’s the opposite, Sky. You find fault with every guy so you don’t have to be with him. That’s the point. Oh, none of Alison’s picks are your ‘type’? Sure. More like: you don’t have a type, because you don’t get to know anyone.”
“That’s not—”
“You shut everything down early so you never even have to get close,” Elle went on. “That way, you’re totally protected—always.”
Sky floundered for a moment, feeling extremely defensive. “Well…I…”
“Face it,” Elle said, softening her tone a bit, “that whole thing with Derek Webber really effed you up.”
“No, it didn’t,” Sky insisted firmly. “That was two years ago. I’d have to be crazy to still care about that.”
“Not crazy. Just traumatized.”
Losing patience, Sky argued, “Look, I went on all the dates that Alison set up.”
“And I bet you phoned them all in. No, wait, more like texted them in—to Jamie, your mentor…” Elle muttered.
Angry now, Sky rose from her chair to be at eye level with Elle. “Why are you bashing Jamie all of a sudden?” she said hotly.
At that, Elle tilted her head and with assessing eyes, said, “Oh, does that bother you? Maybe because you’re catching some feelings for him?” Sky was at a loss for words for a second; she felt transparent. “Are you going to shut that down early, too?” Elle prodded, hitting a nerve too precisely for Sky’s comfort.
Irritably, she sat back down and turned toward her computer. “You know, I come into work and I’m suddenly being attacked,” she grumbled as she clicked open a spreadsheet, looking at the screen without really seeing it. “I do not shut things down too early,” she added futilely.
“Then prove it,” Elle challenged. “Give the florist a chance. A real chance, no matter what Jamie thinks.”
“Fine already!” Sky snapped. “I will give him a chance,” she lied.
“Good. Well, I’ve got to let the dogs out,” Elle announced, grabbing a set of keys off the wall. Before she left the main office, she switched gears and gave an almost tremulous smile. “Don’t be mad at me, okay?”
“I’m not,” Sky lied again, focusing on her computer.
“Well, I was kind of a bitch,” Elle admitted.
“Yep.”
With a deprecating laugh, Elle said, “I’m sorry, okay? I just want you to be happy.”
“Well, so do I,” Sky said testily. And it was true, damn it. She would be happy—but it wouldn’t be with the florist.
~
That night, Sky tried to take her mind off the fact that she hadn’t heard from Jamie all day by going to bed early. It didn’t work, though, and by 9:30, she was still wide-awake and climbing out of
bed—scrambling to come up with some plausible excuse to show up at his apartment. Besides the fact that she missed him, she also was uncomfortably curious as to why he’d gone dark on her. He had never even responded to her text about the florist! So unlike him—nothing, not a word all day and all night?
Normally she slept in only an oversized tee shirt and panties. Obviously she wasn’t going to appear at Jamie’s door in that, so she shimmied into yoga pants and slipped on a bra. This is not a booty-call, she reminded herself, hoping to nullify any self-consciousness before it could take root. Jamie and I are just friends and this is a friendly visit. There was nothing to feel weird about.
Granted…she had just hung out with him last night. So it wasn’t like they hadn’t spoken in days. Perhaps she could be a little more chill about the whole thing… After all, since they were just friends, they didn’t have to talk every single day… They didn’t have to reply to every single text…
Nope, Sky thought, acknowledging her own weakness and heading to the stairwell. Yes, she should be more casual about Jamie, but she wasn’t. And she couldn’t sleep without making sure everything was okay. She knew there was nothing he could be mad at her for, right?
Now, without any prepared excuse, she knocked on his door. Immediately she felt her stomach tighten. Why did she feel like it had been so long since she’d seen him? Just last night they’d been at the Billiard Grill. Why did she miss him like this? It was ridiculous! But, logical or not, an entire day without a word from Jamie was really starting to get to her.
To make it worse, he didn’t answer the door. Disappointed, Sky hesitated before knocking again.
Nothing.
So he wasn’t home. Dejected, Sky sighed and pivoted back toward the stairwell. It was almost ten o’clock at night. Where was he? Probably out with his friends, she figured—until a disturbing thought jumped into her mind. Could he be out with a girl?
She suddenly began to feel queasy, and pressed a hand to her stomach as she jogged down the stairs to her floor. Now even just the thought of Jamie with a girl was making her physically ill. Was this what love was? Sky thought grimly. Or…
Was it simply jealousy—intermingled with genuine affection, deepening obsession, and blinding sexual attraction?
Yes, that was what it was.
Unfortunately, Sky realized, as she reentered her apartment and tossed her keys aside: That sounded a lot like love, too.
Chapter 17
After texting Jamie again—once just to say hi, and once more to share a good vocab word she’d come across—Sky went to bed. And tossed restlessly in her sleep all night. Any time she awoke, she rolled over to check her phone. Reaching for it off her nightstand in a foggy haze soon became muscle-memory. By the time her alarm sounded, checking her phone had become a disheartening ritual that brought her no joy. Where the hell was he?
Once she showered and dressed for work, she poured herself a bowl of cereal and moped through her breakfast, until Elle unwittingly gave her the perfect excuse to go back up to Jamie’s apartment. She asked if Sky could take her to the outlets today, which were about an hour outside of Boston. Once Sky agreed, she realized she could go upstairs under the pretense of asking Jamie if he wanted to come along, too.
Now she hopped up from the table and started toward the door. “Aren’t you going to finish your breakfast?” Elle called after her.
“Not hungry,” she called back. “See you later!”
Soon, there she was again. In front of Jamie’s door.
Before she knocked, she steeled her nerves. This was insane! Why was she so nervous? Maybe it was knowing how she felt about him now. Or maybe it was the unknown—how Jamie felt about her.
She knocked twice and waited. After a long beat, she frowned, fearing he was still not home, but then she heard shuffling on the other side of the door. Her heart jumped at the sound of movement. Calm down, girl, she told herself, but her stomach fluttered anyway.
“Sky…” she heard him say (obviously seeing her through the peephole). “Hey, uh…can I talk to you later?” His voice was low and gravelly as though he’d just awoken.
Not the greeting she’d hoped for; in fact, it kind of sucked. “Well…is everything okay?” she asked, her concern mounting.
“I’m sorry,” he told her through the closed door, “it’s just not a good time, okay?”
Suddenly, the horrifying thought she’d had last night resurfaced in her mind: Jamie with a girl.
Oh, God, was she in his apartment right now? In his bed? Sky swallowed down a swell of nausea as the revolting idea sank in. Had she just interrupted Jamie and some girl in the middle of hooking up? At first, she shuddered at the mere thought. But then reasoned that the scenario wasn’t entirely logical. If Jamie were in the middle of having sex, he would hardly have come to the door.
Unless…maybe they had just finished and now were in the cuddling phase? Sky speculated, her frown deepening. Was Jamie a cuddler? she wondered jealously. Probably.
Abruptly, she shook her head and caught hold of her senses. She was assuming the worst and getting insanely jealous of a so-far fictional girl in Jamie’s bed, when she really had no facts. Until he opened the door, she wouldn’t know what to believe. “Jamie…” Sky began, speaking softly as she placed her palm on his door, “What’s wrong?” Her nerves frittered even more as she waited for an answer.
“I’m sick,” he said after a moment. “As in…really sick.”
“Sick? Do you mean the flu?” she asked, unsure.
“Yes. I’ve been sick since yesterday.” With that, Jamie began coughing—letting out a litany of rough, hacking sounds that brought a smile of pure bliss to Sky’s face.
Okay, it was probably wrong to feel so happy right now, with Jamie so miserable, but she couldn’t help it. So he was sick, not mad! He hadn’t been spitefully ignoring her—or busy falling for another girl. He’d been knocked down by the flu; she’d never felt so relieved!
“I still feel like crap, though,” he continued through the door, “so I am sure I’m contagious.”
“Do you have a fever?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do,” he said and began coughing again.
Now that she knew Jamie wasn’t mad at her, Sky was even more determined to see him, face-to-face. “Here, let me in,” she said.
“No, Sky—”
“This is ridiculous, talking through the door. Just open up,” she urged.
“But I don’t want you to get sick,” he argued.
“C’mon, Jamie,” Sky said coaxingly. “Please open the door.”
“Why?” he asked.
Because I don’t care if I get sick. Because I want to see you. “Because I never get sick,” she promised. “Besides, the longer you keep me out there, the more worried I’m getting. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Finally he cracked open the door—and the sight was a bit ghastly. In fact, seeing how bad he looked made Sky feel guilty for rejoicing a moment ago. His face was pale with a slight sheen to it; his hair was rumpled, and his eyes looked exhausted behind his glasses. “Jamie…” she murmured softly, the word spilling from her lips.
“Stand back,” he ordered her.
Ignoring that, Sky lightly nudged the door. “Can I come in, please?”
With a tired sigh, he acquiesced and stepped aside. Even though the heat in his apartment was blasting and it was uncomfortably hot in there, Jamie was bundled up in at least two layers of sweats. Automatically, Sky gave a roving glance around his apartment. The sofa was piled with pillows and a bunched-up blanket, and in the far corner of the room, there was an overturned tissue box by his bed, which was a mess of twisted sheets. The TV was muted, tuned to ESPN. Yes, she was definitely in the midst of a bachelor’s sick ward.
“Jamie,” she said gently, studying him for a moment, “you don’t look so good.”
“I’m in a bad shape,” he agreed.
“How did this happen?” Sky asked curiously.
>
He let out another atrocious-sounding cough. “I caught it from a guy at work I’m re-training. I should have known when he was at my desk the other day, sneezing his head off.”
“It started yesterday? So you were sick all night?”
“Yeah,” he told her, his voice rusty to the point it sounded painful, and then lifted his glasses to rub his eyes. “Though I got a nice break from the constant puking after I took that,” he remarked, motioning toward a bottle of over-the-counter flu medicine. “A couple swigs knocked me out for about ten hours.”
Well, that explained why he hadn’t come to the door, Sky thought. The idea that Jamie had been sick and alone inside his apartment last night when Sky had been so nearby made her a little sad. If she’d known, she would have tried to help. If only he’d told her. Wait—again she reminded herself that they were friends. Not in a relationship. At least, not at this point.
“Okay, where’s the thermometer?” Sky asked, because, hey, she was here now and determined to make things better. Just like Jamie had cheered her up the other night.
“Thermometer?” Jamie echoed. “Um, I’m pretty sure there’s one at CVS,” he said, flopping down on the sofa.
Sky half-grinned and said dryly, “I see your sarcasm has been unaffected by this grave illness.”
With mock somberness, Jamie retorted, “Hey, I can’t let it change me, you know?”
“Sure,” Sky said, humoring him. “By the way, why didn’t you tell me yesterday that you were sick like this?”
He managed a half-hearted shrug. “Why would I? I’d quarantined myself. I didn’t want you catching it. I still don’t, by the way. Really—you should go, Sky. I don’t want you to see me like this anyway.”
“Well, I already have seen you,” she stated. “And I’m not leaving—oh, wait. Actually I do have to go,” she said, abruptly remembering her job.
“No worries,” Jamie assured her, uttering, “I’ve had a good run on this earth…”
She ignored that and double-checked, “Okay, so you don’t have a thermometer?”