by Sara Ney
Well shit. I wasn’t expecting her to notice. “It is?”
Jameson cocks her head to the side and studies me. “Isn’t it? It’s just a guess, but you seem somehow, I don’t know…off.”
I scoff. “Can’t I just want to be with you? Why does something have to be wrong?”
The room is quiet as the seconds tick by. She’s thinking and I’m blankly staring and no one is talking.
Slowly, she gives her head a little shake. “You’re right; nothing has to be wrong. I read you wrong. Let’s just forget I said anything.”
Her smile is sympathetic and lopsided.
And so sweet.
Jameson is the least judgmental person I know.
I trust her. I trust her, and she is the only person I’ve ever told anything to besides my sister, but she’s not here right now and James is. So, I expel a deep breath and explain.
“No, you’re right, something has been bothering me,” I say, shifting in my seat, fighting the urge to fidget. “Since that party, Zeke has been riding my ass and it’s wearing on my nerves. Not sure what to do about it.” When Jameson doesn’t say anything, I continue. “I live with the guy, right? So I know how he is, what an asshole he can be—but I also see a side of him no one else does, yeah? And I know he isn’t always such a prick, especially when he’s friends with someone.” My fingers rake through my hair. “I don’t understand what his problem is lately.”
“Has he said anything?” Jameson asks carefully, watching me closely.
I give a curt nod. “This morning.”
“Ahhhh.” She drags out a breath, already seeming to know what I’m about to say.
“He’s…” What’s the word I’m looking for? “Angry.”
“He is,” comes Jameson’s whisper. “Do you know why?”
This time I’m shaking my head. “No. I suspect I know the reason, but I’m not a shrink so…” I shrug. “It’s just a guess.”
“Have you tried talking to him about it?”
“This morning when he threatened me, I told him to piss off. That’s about all the talking we did.”
Her eyebrows shoot straight to her hairline. “He threatened you? Why?”
I fiddle with the keys on my laptop, aimlessly tapping at a few. “I’d tell you, but I don’t want you in the middle of it.”
Now her brow furrows with concern. “So you’re saying it had something to do with me?”
“Want the truth? Yes and no.”
“Why do I not like the sound of that?”
“Because the truth is that yeah, he doesn’t want me dating you. I don’t necessarily think he’s jealous, I think he thinks…shit, I don’t know. It’s like he thinks I’m ditching him for good, almost like I’m abandoning him—it’s the weirdest thing.”
“Do I have cause to worry? He’s not going to be hiding in the bushes when I get home to knock me off, is he?” She gives a nervous little laugh, and now I feel like the biggest horse’s ass for mentioning it in the first place.
“He wouldn’t hurt you. He’s angry at himself, not at you. He just doesn’t realize it yet.”
“Okay,” she says slowly. “But now it’s starting to affect you, and that’s what worries me.”
“Why should it worry you?”
“Because, I…” She clears her throat. “Because I care about you Sebastian.”
My girl adds an eye roll.
A huge grin spreads on my face and I lean toward her to change the subject. “You care about me, huh? That’s it?”
Eye roll. “Don’t be an ass. Of course I care.”
Care. I wonder if that’s a code word for a stronger feeling she’s not ready to admit yet…the same way I haven’t admitted it to her, or said it out loud.
It’s too soon to know for sure.
Isn’t it?
Once again, a palpable silence settles over the room, the weight of words lingering above us.
“Jameson, let me…” My voice trails off, the next words out of my mouth breaking the tension. “Sex you on the table.”
“Oh my god!” She laughs, tossing a pen at me. It hits my chest and ricochets to the carpeted floor. “We are not having sex in a public place!”
I gesture around the room. “Come on, this is hardly public. There are four walls and a solid door, if you don’t count the window. Besides, don’t say you haven’t thought about doing it with me every time we’ve been in here.”
“Um, I can honestly say I have not thought about it, but clearly you have.”
I stare at her like she’s crazy. “Um, clearly. Hate to break it to ya, but screwing is pretty much the only thing I think about when I’m with you.”
“Well put it out of your mind; we’re not having sex in the library.”
“What’s it gonna take to convince you?”
“Nothing. Nothing is going to convince me to let you sex me on the table. It’s not going to happen.”
“Want to make a bet?”
Another eye roll makes three. “No Sebastian, because you still owe me for the last bet we made.”
“How ’bout I pay you in orgasms? Two hundred and fifty of them.”
“Hmmm.” She taps her chin with a pink fingernail, considering my offer. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”
My smirk is smug. “The last time you said I’ll think about it, you ended up sticking your tongue down my throat in the middle of the library.”
“Shut up!” She pitches another pen. “Can we please get to work?”
“Oh god…right there…can’t you do it any harder?”
“Baby, I’m trying…if I do it any harder, I’m going to break this shitty table. It’s plywood.”
“My ass…m-my ass in on the laptop keys and it’s digging into my hip…oh god…don’t stop doing that…feels so good…”
“Shit…shit…did you hear that cracking noise? I told you we were going to…break this…fuck…ing table…”
“It’s worth it, s-so ssss…so worth it…”
“Don’t stop don’t stop I’m coming, I’m coming…”
“So much for not having sex in public, Little Miss Priss.”
“Come on, baby.” Jameson affects a staged, decidedly male voice. “This is hardly public. There are four walls and a solid door, if you don’t count the window.”
“Very funny, smartass.”
“We don’t have time to bask in the afterglow. You should probably pull your pants up.”
“Bask in the afterglow—I like the sound of that.”
“Awww, you really are a closet romantic after all.”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
Sebastian
“What the hell do you think you and your crap are doing on my stoop?”
The wind blows, kicking up snow and sending frigid cold air whipping past me and into the hotel room. The gust has Jameson’s long loose hair swirling around her shoulders.
I’m standing in front of the same hotel room door, letting my red duffle drop to the frozen, snowy ground. A bright lime green snowboard leans against the doorjamb, along with a black boot bag and my clothes. “My old pal Chad said your roommate bailed on you,” I tease with a casual shrug of my shoulders.
“Chad you say? Hmmm…I heard he graduated and got a job at a tech company. You’ll have to come up with a better line that that; I can’t let just anyone pass through this door—my boyfriend would kill me, and he’ll be here any minute.”
“Your boyfriend sounds awesome—and really good looking.”
Jameson crosses her arms and shrugs, noncommittal. “Meh, he’s all right. I wouldn’t push him out of bed.”
I lean down to kiss her smiling lips, heft my bag, and shoulder into the hotel room. “Wow. Place looks just how we left it.”
“Yup.” Jameson pops her P with a loud smack. “Same bed, same dresser, same tiny bathroom.”
“Ah yes, the tiny bathroom of sin, scene of all masturbatory emissions.” My laugh fills the outdated hotel room as I walk to the dress
er to set my things down.
“Could you please not remind me?” Jameson’s question hits my back.
I glance over my shoulder. “You stood and watched babe. It couldn’t have been that awful.”
“That’s only because I was caught off guard.”
“Righttttt…but then you listened at the door as I finished.”
“I find it very rude of you to bring that up,” she points out indignantly.
“Rule number twenty…”
Jameson holds up a finger and gives it a flirty little wiggle. “Nuh uh—we’re up to twenty-three.”
“Oh pardon me, ma’am. Rule number twenty-three: while we’re on vacation this weekend, we have to try to do everything the way we did it last time we were here.”
She’s skeptical. “You want to go to the lobby and watch me give my number to complete strangers?”
“Sure! It will be romantic.”
“That trip was not romantic. It was exhausting.”
“You didn’t think it was romantic when I tackled you in the snow on the way back to the bus?”
“Not really, no.”
“Bullshit. You moaned when I fell on top of you.”
“No, you were squishing me and I was trying to push you off. There’s a huge difference. Plus, I had snow down my pants.”
“Hmmm.” I think for a second, trying to think of all the nice things we did in Snowbasin when we were here last, but only a few things stick out in my mind. “You slept with me in the same bed because you couldn’t resist me. Admit it, that pillow wall was a desperate ploy for my attention.”
My gorgeous girlfriend bites down on her smile. “Fine, I’ll admit it—I might have wanted to snuggle up to you in bed, but you have to admit you had a huge crush on me.”
I look at her like she’s crazy. “Pfft, of course I had a huge crush on you—probably from the moment we met. You’re fucking adorable.”
My delivery might be saying What’s the big deal, but Jameson’s expression rivals the time I gave her a dozen long-stem red roses. “Sometimes you say the sweetest things!”
“Only sometimes?” I move closer, teasing as she pulls the bed linens down and fluffs the pillows.
Jameson yawns, tired from traveling. “Fine. Most of the time.”
And she’s right; rarely am I an asshole to her. I’ve reserved the sensitive and softer side no one else has the privilege of seeing for Jameson. As lame as it fucking sounds, she’s the light in my life.
And if anyone heard me saying shit like that, I’d get my ass beat.
Not that I’d care.
Slowly, James unsnaps the fly of her jeans, pushing the dark denim down her hips. “I’m exhausted.”
“My family won’t be here for, oh”—I check my phone for the time—“another twenty-four hours. How shall we ever pass the time?”
“Speaking of your parents, I can’t believe you never told them we were going to arrive early. And I can’t believe they’re giving up their Thanksgiving holiday to come all this way to be with us.”
I snort. “Please. My mom thought this would be more fun than cramming all those people into our tiny house. Plus, now she doesn’t have to cook. She hates cooking and always fucks up the turkey.”
“I know, but—”
“Trust me, they’re pumped.”
A frown mars her forehead. “I know, but are you sure you’re okay giving up your spring break to be here now?”
“You’re going to be with me in March, so what do I care if I go anywhere.” I shrug. That’s what we decided when we booked this trip: we’d spend the Thanksgiving holiday in Utah with my family, then stay home and work through spring break to save up money for an apartment. We plan on living together the rest of our senior year—as soon as we have enough money for a deposit. “Relax. You have nothing to be nervous about.”
I watch as she nibbles the nail of her thumb nervously. “I’m anxious about meeting your parents.”
“Babe, they’re going to love you. And you’ve already texted with Kayla a bunch of times—she thinks you’re the shit.”
“Right, but moms are different.”
Her concern has me dipping down to kiss her mouth. “Stop worrying. We’re going to have a blast. And aren’t you glad we have enough snow this early in the season to do some boarding, lift tickets compliments of Zeke Daniels and his five hundred bucks?”
That perks her up.
“Heck yes. So glad he finally paid you.” Jameson unzips her purple suitcase to retrieve her snow pants and jacket, hanging them inside the small closet. “I’m ready to take on the mountain.”
I dig mine out and they join hers. “Can you at least pretend to wait for me as I creep down the hill behind you?”
“We’ll see. Try to keep up and we won’t have a problem, will we old man?” With a cocky, confident flick of her hand, James gives her hair a toss.
“It’s fine; I love watching you—especially your ass from behind.”
“Same.” She walks into the bathroom to plunk her toiletries on the counter. “I’m exhausted from the drive. Let’s watch a movie and go to bed.”
“Good idea. We should take advantage of tonight before my family gets here in the morning, because once they do, you’ll be rooming with Kayla and I’ll be camping out on my parent’s floor.”
“You’re always trying to take advantage.” The laugh comes from around her toothbrush.
I join her in the bathroom, stepping close so my hands can roam up her sides, burying my nose in the crook of her neck as she brushes her teeth. “I don’t have to try very hard, do I?”
“Oh please, I can totally resist you. Remember that day you decided not to wear pants in a desperate attempt to get me to seduce you?” She removes the toothbrush and taps her chin as she recollects. “It was a useless attempt to reverse psychology me, but I lasted the entire day without jumping your bones. I practically had super powers.”
“Whatever. That didn’t count because you took off your pants as a counter attack, which didn’t work. Ended up screwing anyway.”
She sighs, toothpaste dripping form the corner of her mouth. “At least we gave it the old college try.”
“We sure did.”
My heart is pounding a million miles a minute, pounding like it’s never pounded before. Not even when I was introduced to the scout for the Olympic wrestling team last semester. Not when I told him no, I wasn’t going to be advancing my wrestling career and joining the team.
I was done. Mind was made up.
I plan to intern for a law firm in my hometown next summer with the hopes of getting a job in their human resources department. Then I’m going to buy a house with Jameson and we’re going to live together, get married, and make cardigan-wearing babies.
I crack open the black velvet ring box, drop to one knee, and present it to her, lid open. Jameson’s blue eyes widen, hands flying to her mouth in astonished surprise. “Sebastian.” She breathes. “It’s beautiful.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that she hasn’t reached for the ring.
“Jameson Victoria Clark. Will you marry me?”
“I don’t know what to say…”
“Say yes.” I laugh, as if there isn’t anything to discuss and this is a done deal. “Have I shocked the shit out of you? Why aren’t you saying yes?”
“I can’t,” she whispers, her breath leaving her body in short puffs. The air turns frigid cold and steam rises from our mouths. “I can’t marry you.”
Can’t marry me? What the ever-loving fuck.
“Can’t?” I snap the ring box closed. “Or won’t.”
Her head gives a tiny, almost imperceptible shake. “Can’t. Won’t.”
“Why?” I demand. “Why won’t you marry me?”
“You don’t even know me Sebastian.”
I fumble to my feet, reaching for her. “Baby, please. What do you mean I don’t know you? You’re my best friend.”
“And you’re mine…”
&
nbsp; “Then why aren’t you saying yes?” I repeat, voice cracking. “I tell you everything; you know things even my parents and sister don’t know. Things I’ve never told the guys, or my coaches.” I suck in a breath. “James, I…I…”
The three little words I’ve never said to her get lodged in my throat, choking me, making me hesitate.
Jameson pulls away, her eyebrows going up. She glowers. “See? Right there. That’s the reason I can’t marry you.”
“Big deal. It’s only been seven months. Lots of people don’t say the L word after only a few months.”
“Stop talking, Sebastian, you’re making it worse. The fact that you can’t even tell me you lo—” Her sob cuts off whatever she’s about to say.
“Baby, I’m an idiot…what do you expect?”
“I expect more than a man that makes excuses about why he can’t tell me how he feels.” Her anger turns to a cry, a steady stream of tears pooling down her flushed cheeks.
“Don’t cry, please don’t cry.”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“This dream is turning into a fucking nightmare,” I moan.
“That’s because you’re dreaming.”
“No,” I argue. “This is a goddamn nightmare, Jameson—”
“Sebastian. Sebastian wake up, you’re having a dream.”
With a start, I gasp, jolting myself awake.
“Shhhh, you were crying.” Jameson’s delicate palm runs down the course of my spine in a gentle stroke, landing at my waist and wrapping around my middle. I feel the pillows of her pouty lips plant a kiss to the planes of my shoulder blades, her hot breath caressing my bare skin as she spoons me from behind.
“I was?”
“You were,” she whispers with another kiss on my shoulder.
“Fuck, sorry. Did I wake you up?”
She nods. “You did, but it’s okay.”
Shit. “What was I saying?”
“You don’t remember?”
I lay in the dark, staring at the wall before rolling to my back. Moonlight floods the hotel room, casting a warm glow on Jameson’s beautiful, worried face.