The photographer knew where to go and I followed her and a few others down a quaint street to a pub with large picnic tables outdoors. The atmosphere was great with the breeze coming in and the scent of the water.
“What a day,” Siobhan said. “Sorry there were so many shots. I think I got some perfect ones though.”
“That’s excellent. It was a great setting.” We chatted a bit more and then my phone rang. I glanced at the display and smiled, seeing Jamie’s name. Standing up, I said I needed to take this and would be right back.
I moved over to an area of semi-privacy. “Hey, is everything okay?” I couldn’t fathom why he’d be calling me—unless something bad had happened to someone.
“Yes, well, I almost burnt the flat down, but maybe I can laugh at it”—he paused—“in about two years.”
Music had been made louder behind me and candles were lit, giving the place a nice night atmosphere.
Jamieson must have heard the increased noise on his end. “Oh, ah, sorry, am I interrupting?”
“No, it’s okay. Just out with some people from the shoot. I …” I almost said I wished he was here. A smile crossed my face though he couldn’t see me. Then I cleared my throat. “Tell me quickly, but then I’ll have to go back.”
“Oh, Stuart and Marshall were due over, after I got home, you know. So I put appetizers in the oven and left them for too long. Smoke alarm went off. Smoke surrounded us.”
I let out a hearty laugh. “Wow, I wish I’d seen that.”
“Ha, thanks for the sympathy.”
“Like I’m any good at that.” I chuckled for maybe a bit too long. “Actually, no I’ve got you beat on that one. I was visiting a friend for dinner and said that I’d make a dessert. The friend was fine, but there were also top CEOs and fancy people from some fashion shows and magazines. So I went to the kitchen to get the strawberry shortcake I’d made earlier out of the fridge, but I wasn’t familiar with the place. I was nervous and trying to impress them. Anyway, I took a scoop of sugar out of the glass container in the pantry to sprinkle over top of the shortcake and brought the dishes out to everyone at the table. Two of them took a bite and almost spit it out. I was mortified.
“Then it came to light after I spoke to my friend—I’d fed them all my dessert with flour on top, not sugar.” I shook my head though he couldn’t see me.
“Oh god. That is terrible. I’m sorry, man,” he said amongst the laughter.
“Very mature.”
“Ha-ha! Maturity is overrated. Who wants that? Remember that time we were camping and you convinced me you could make a gourmet meal over the fire out of leftover chip butties and tomato sauce?”
“Ha-ha, gourmet from Chef Carter. I forgot about that. Those were the days.” Looking out at the water, I took hold of the castle round my neck and as memories flooded me, I pushed my shoulders back, standing straighter. We were different now. So much had changed. I cleared my throat. “I better get back there, but, ah, thanks for calling.”
I headed back to the table and Siobhan waved as I sat down. “Boyfriend?” I knew she wasn’t being gossipy or nosey, she wasn’t that type.
My cheeks heated and I rubbed the condensation on the side of the beer that I’d left behind earlier. I glanced down and then at her. “Friends with benefits, I guess.” Even as I said it, I knew that was my own defense mechanism. “It’s complicated.”
“Well, complicated means it’s important. And judging from the smile on your face when you came back, he’s important to you.”
I sighed. Hardly knowing her, it still felt like I needed to say something. And I knew I could trust her. “What if … I’m not enough for him anymore.”
“Anymore? He’s an ex or something?” She leaned forward and moved her chair in so we could hear each other better.
“Or something, I suppose. Long story. We were together in secondary school. It was the best, but we were so young. I like how we are now—friends again and the hottest sex of my life. God, I’m sorry. I’ll stop now.” I took a large gulp of my drink. Christ, I was a basket case. “Sorry.”
“No, no,” she said. “Don’t worry. I know you’ll get tons of advice but you gotta take risks. You know that. What about with modelling? It was a huge risk to get into it, wasn’t it?”
“You are way too sensible.” I laughed. “But yeah, I had to hope I had the right look to move forward. How long have you been a photographer?”
After chatting, we all went back to our hotel rooms. I really liked Siobhan and hoped we’d get to work together again.
As I lay in the bed looking up at the ceiling, I told myself that Jamie and I were fine. We weren’t Marshall and Stuart. Why did everything need to be labeled. Plus, I had no idea how to be boyfriend material. Ha, that had been the line on the last cashmere sweater magazine spread I did. We just clicked so easily, it was fun and there were no what ifs or where is this going, like so many other people seemed to analyze.
And then what I’d blurted to Siobhan about not being enough, it was true. I didn’t think I could be. Why rock the boat when we were enjoying each other’s company. That was enough, right?
After tossing and turning, I couldn’t handle my overthinking. It was the middle of the night, but I got up to check my work emails.
Fuck, I hadn’t phoned Jamieson when I got in. I guess I’d done too much thinking about him instead. Checking the time and the time difference, I realized I could call him. It would be morning there. Even as I dialled, my stomach felt like it was a rolling wave at the beach earlier.
“Hey,” I heard his sleepy voice and smiled. Something unwinded in me just from the sound of it.
“Hey, back. I woke you, didn’t I?”
“I’ve had worse wakeup calls. What’s up?” There was rustling in the background as if he was repositioning himself.
In some ways I couldn’t believe I hadn’t told him yet, but that night I met him at his hotel, there was no time for talking. Plus, I was kinda freaked out. “Ah, do you want to come with me, not as a date or anything—” I reiterated more to myself than anything. “There’s this awards thing I have to go to. Schmoozing mostly. But, uh, it’d be better with you there.” There, I’d said it. I looked up as if I presumed some imaginary rock from space was going to fall and crash down around me.
“What’s it for?” he asked. “I mean, what award or whatever?”
“I’m nominat—”
His squealing and laughter in the background almost scared me. I had to move my phone away from my ear. “You’re nominated for something? Oh. My. God. That’s not just going to some schmoozefest.”
“Ah, well, I guess not. It’s a pretty big deal to be nominated.”
“Pretty big? It’s huge. And I’d love to go with you. Not just because I get to schmooze with the models, but to go with you for your big night. Wow. Yeah. It’s a da—” He cleared his throat. “I mean it would be perfect. Will Marshall and Stuart come too?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe.” I couldn’t deny that his excitement for me made me feel something beyond special. “It’s on the twenty-fifth of June, so will you be off work? I can’t remember when you fly out again.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure of it. I can change with someone if I need to. I go out again the day after tomorrow. I’ll just miss you coming home, right?”
“Yeah, too bad. But I’ll be back in London for a bit. Besides the awards night, there’s also the LGBT+ campaign with Marshall and Rutledge.”
“Oh right. That will be fantastic. I have a surprise for you.”
“I’m kind of scared. What surprise?” I ventured.
“I’ll be a customer of the product. Just ’cause it’s you.”
“Ha-ha, don’t let Marshall hear you say that. Not because it’s him? And what if you find Rutledge to be the most handsome.”
“Oh yes, he has it all. Very handsome, younger … Should I go on?” I knew Rutledge was relatively new to Mayfair Models but I’d seen some photos of the c
ampaign he did in America for a large fashion brand.
“You’re a wanker.”
“But he probably doesn’t have your sense of humour after all. Or large vocabulary of slang words.”
“Oh good. My new skill. Wanker was just the beginning. Twatwaffle. Tallywhacker. Knob.” I ended up waiting a few minutes for the laughter to subside.
“Wow. Keep it going. I’ll let you, unlike back when you, uh …” his voice trailed off but I knew he was thinking back to when I passed that note to him in class.
“What’s that,” I’d peeked over at Jamieson’s desk. He’d had words scribbled on a sheet of paper that he quickly folded away. I looked up to see the teacher walking down the aisles of desks.
“I’ll show you later. Shhh,” he had said. I tapped his shoulder and when he looked over at me, I grabbed it from his far side. “Give it back,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Something you’d like to share with the class,” I’d heard our teacher say. I straightened up in my chair, shoving the paper under the textbook. Her heels tapped on the floor and I really hoped she’d turn around and go back up to the front.
“No. Nothing to share.” I tried my best diversion tactic. “Unless you want to hear about Adamson’s pranks from the weekend.” I turned back to the class clown—Rocky Adamson—who glared at me and then laughed. All eyes were on him now. Phew. Even after the glare, I knew he ate it up anyhow. He loved attention.
Class dragged on but at the end as I was closing up my books, Jamieson already had everything in his backpack and stood waiting for me. “I can’t wait to read your love letter to me,” I said, quietly joking.
“Ha-ha. And later I shall whisper sweet nothings in your ear.” We laughed as I finished packing up.
The teacher came over then and grabbed the note from my desk before I had a chance to put it in my bag. Both our faces went pale but I rubbed Jamieson’s arm and requested it back. I held out my hand, assuming she’d give it back.
Instead she opened it. I hadn’t had time to look at it yet. But I knew without a doubt there were no words of love on it. Then she read it out loud.
Penis Power: The penis thesaurus
Cock
Bell end
And then she trailed off. I looked to Jamie and he was biting his lip so hard I was worried he’d break the skin. I tried to contain my laughter.
“Detention all this week after school for both of you,” she said, not laughing at all.
Jamie’s lip was quivering. He rarely got in any trouble. I patted his back. “No, Mrs. Kennedy, it was me. Don’t make Jamie take detention. Just me.”
He had tried to cut in, even through his obvious fear. “No, Car—”
“Yeah, I made the list and showed it to Jamie here.” I started to walk out of the room, pulling Jamieson with me. “See you after school, Mrs. Kennedy.”
At the time, I’d thought I was helping, but since we’d reacquainted, I wondered if he just thought it was me protecting him.
“Uh, thanks again,” he murmured. “I mean it. You saved me that day.”
“It was no problem. I wanted to. There was no point in us both suffering for that. It was funny. And now I’ll continue my list of slang.”
“Shows how much we’ve matured.”
“Ha-ha, right! Who wants to mature and act like an adult?” The enjoyment I felt just from talking to him was overwhelming.
“Did you, so have you…? Anyone there caught your fancy?” It almost sounded like Jamie was in a torture chamber for him to bite out those words.
I cleared my throat. So many feelings threatened to spill out. I put my knuckle in my mouth. They threatened to crush me. My initial reaction was to laugh it off or make a joke, but I couldn’t, not to my Jamieson. Jamieson. He wasn’t mine, I had to remind myself. But what if he could be again, seeped into my subconscious. “There’s only been you,” I said.
The line was quiet for such a long time, I looked at the screen, thinking he’d hung up. “Jamie,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t know what to make of the silence.
“Yes, okay good. Me too. Listen, I better let you go. Thanks for phoning. I’m really proud of you, Carter.”
“And …” But he was gone.
19
JAMIESON
The plane had reached cruising altitude, and I was kept busy by either preparing meals, filling trays with drinks, or offering pillows and blankets to the passengers. Usually I needed a nap part way through, but sleep eluded me. All that was on my mind was Carter.
Our time together was almost effortless. And yet it had so many layers. The sexual chemistry was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. And add to that, his sense of humour, his kindness, and the fact that he just “got” me. It couldn’t even be put into words.
And when I asked him if there was anyone else, I stood stock-still while I waited for an answer. I’d just blurted it out. But I knew there was a shift. I’d go to the awards ceremony with him, but I needed a change after that. For better or for worse.
My colleague waved her hand in front of me. “Earth to Jamieson. Will you pass me that jug of water? It’s in the cabinet just behind you.”
“Sorry, yes. Yes, of course.”
The next couple of weeks passed in a whirlwind of work. I was at a hotel in Paris on a break when I noticed an email from Stuart: the to-do list with the dogs. It would be a welcome change by then. No time to overthink things. Who was I kidding? Of course I’d overthink things. Then, once I got it all out of my system … what would be, would be.
The door opened to my flat and Stuart came in and ran to me. “So glad you’re home. We missed you.”
I jumped up and hugged him back. “Really? Marshall too? Well, I definitely missed teasing him.”
“All four of us did.” He handed me a bag.
“Aww … so sweet. What’s this?” I took the bag over to the couch and sat facing Stuart as he plopped down next to me.”
He patted my leg. “Just something I did. Ah, I hope you like it.”
Digging in, I pulled out a canvas drawing. It was of me and him one day last year at the park. “Oh, my goodness, this is wonderful.” Pulling him into a hug, I tried not to let the tears flow.
“Now I’ll always be here for you.” Stuart let out a sort of bubbly cry. “You were the best roommate. But we’ll still hang out as much as we can.”
“You big doofus.” My nose became full of snot. “You’re making me cry now. Thanks for the gift. And you were the best roommate too.”
I put the sketch to the side and hugged him again. “I wanted to say”—I took his hands in mine—“I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty friend lately.”
“You haven’t …”
I put my hand over his mouth. “No, let me finish, okay?” I looked down at my lap and then took a deep breath. “You see, I love Carter.”
“I know.”
I pointed at him. “Didn’t I just tell you to let me finish. Wait. What? You do?”
“I, well, finish your story and then I’ll tell you.” He leaned back, crossing his legs.
“When he’s back. I’m going to tell him, and yeah, I can’t go on like this. I’m all over the place. So I need to tell you and you should tell Marshall, it won’t get in the way of anything if he …”—my voice wobbled—“if he says no. Well, I can’t be around him. So we’ll hang out, just, ah … separate. I’m going to tell him that too.”
Stuart reached over to hug me. “Okay, I’m here for you. Always.”
“I know it’s a lot. And of course I want the good outcome, but …” I sucked in a breath that sounded choked up.
Stuart went to the toilet and came back with a box of tissues for me.
“Thanks.” I blew my nose. “I just can’t be friends or friends with benefits … whatever. It’s not working for me. And I’ll never be able to handle seeing him with anyone else.” Straightening my shoulders, I tried to make a joke of it. “So soon you’ll have your happy-go-luc
ky Jamieson back in your life, either way.”
He moved to be directly in front of me and caught my gaze, making sure I was looking at him. “You don’t need to ever convince me that what you’re doing for yourself is right for you. All that matters is that you’re going with your gut, okay?”
I didn’t say anything.
“That was a question. So nod and agree.”
I let out a hearty laugh and wiped at my cheeks. “Yes, sir.”
“You’ve got this.”
We talked into the night, catching up and chatting about this and that. Stuart got up and went into my room, claiming he had to make a call. Something was suspicious with that.
“I should let you get back to Marshall and the dogs.” I stood up, trying to usher him to the door. As I went to open it part way, Marshall appeared. He immediately kissed Stuart and then sat down, with a bag beside him.
“Um, guys, what’s all this?” I ventured, unsure. What if they were sick of me and my shitty mood and decided to ship me off to somewhere after an intervention.
Marshall started to pull stuff out of the bag. Sweeties and everything for s’mores it looked like. “I brought supplies. Stuart’s having a sleepover here …”
“What? No, I’m fine.” I now knew I had to figure it all out with Carter, once and for all. “But that is so sweet.” I walked over to Marshall and pinched his cheeks.
He slapped my hands away. “Got to get back to the pups. Have fun, boys.” And before I could protest some more, he’d gotten up, hugged Stuart, and closed the door behind him.
“Well, fuck me.” I let out a sigh.
“Hey, I’m with Marshall now, so that ship has sailed.” Stuart winked as he walked by. Then he bustled around in the kitchen as if it was his own again, making us s’mores. We had no fireplace, but the microwave would do just as fine.
When he walked over I told him. “Sorry, I’m an ass. This is nice. Thanks, Stuart.”
He merely patted my head and started to tell me about a new rolling over trick he’d taught Lola. The way his eyes lit up, I couldn’t help but smile back.
Carter (Mayfair Model Series Book 2) Page 15