Chapter 179: Chapter Seventeen

Jaymeson

I stared at the damn phone and envisioned it crushing in my hand. How the hell did that tool know Angelica? That woman was poison. Pure and simple.

Dating her was like playing with the switch of a nuclear bomb. Eventually it was going to go off, eventually you would die. And it would be slow and painful.

I was already halfway to crazy town when I found out that Priscilla got in the damn truck with Smith and let him take her on a date. What the hell was she thinking? Did she even know him that well?

What if he was a serial killer? Why didn't I have a damn tracking device on her?

I should have grabbed her number.

Idiot!

I shot off a quick text to Demetri.

Me

Why the hell is Angelica Green still within a one hundred mile radius of Seaside?

Demetri

Because she's haunting you? Because life isn't fair? Because God is seeking revenge?

Me

Oh.

Demetri

She's changed man, no worries, she's not going to stalk you then knife you in your sleep. Alec and I have been keeping tabs.

Me

I don't trust her.

Demetri

How did you even see her?

Me

Rumors. I didn't actually see her.

Demetri

Stop being so damn paranoid. Are you sleeping well?

Me

Yes, Mom, gotta run.

Demetri

Love you, sweetie.

Me

Sod off.

Demetri

You love me.

I rolled my eyes and threw my phone against the couch again. I should have followed them to the restaurant the minute she messaged me.

Instead, I waited for Smith's truck to pull up, or any car for that matter. I didn't care if Pris was riding a bike — I just wanted her safely home.

Thirty minutes went by and nothing.

What? Did they try every dessert on the menu?

Impatient, I started pacing, then finally decided to go outside to, um, check the rose bushes.

That belonged to my neighbor.

It was just starting to get dark as I walked out of my house and jogged next door to the complex. Demetri has the corner lot, so I was able to hide in some of the bushes that bordered our properties.

Holy shit. Was I really spending my evening hiding in the bushes like a damn spy?

Headlights appeared.

I ducked, phone still clenched tightly in my hand.

The truck pulled to a stop.

But nobody got out.

Damn it.

I couldn't see very well — all I could make out were both of their silhouettes. He needed to stay on his side of the truck. I invented an invisible line between them with my mind.

Within two seconds he was leaning over the line.

Where was a meteor when I needed one?

He leaned further.

My hands clenched tighter.

And then the two shadows merged together. I prayed his breath smelled, I prayed he had a very distinct odor that would make Priscilla gag and push him away.

I saw no pushing.

I looked at my watch.

Who kissed in that position for so long?

Finally, seventeen hours later — okay, maybe like two minutes later — he pulled back, and the passenger door opened.

What the hell? The prick couldn't even open her door? Were his legs broken? Manners!

Priscilla waved and then walked slowly toward the condo. Her smile was fake. That much I could tell. I hated that I was rejoicing inside. If she wasn't happy, that meant the kiss was bad, right?

Right? Bloody rude smelly American with the manners of a freaking ass.

She unlocked the door and let herself in.

The truck pulled away.

And yet, I was still hiding in the bush.

Something was wrong with that picture.

My phone went off with a message.

Priscilla S

Home and safe.

Me

Did you have fun?

Priscilla S

Kind of.

Kind of? Was it wrong to do a cartwheel?

I waited five minutes, shoved my phone into my pocket, and ran over to her door, knocking hard so she would hear me.

The door opened. “Jaymeson?” She looked behind me. “Is something wrong?”

“No, uh, I just was concerned. I didn't have your cell number and you didn't come home right away, so…”

“Oh.” She blushed. “Come in.”

Score.

I wasn't going to wait for a second invitation. I walked in, made my way toward the breakfast bar, and sat on a stool. “So, where's your car?”

“Well…” Her blush deepened. She shut the door and paused a brief second before turning around to face me. “Smith actually saw me walking downtown and took me on a date.”

“A date?” I nodded. “And how was this date?” My teeth snapped together like a friggin’ piranha.

She frowned. “Confusing?”

“How so?” I patted the stool next to me. She took a seat and slumped against the counter.

“I don't know.” Pris put her face in her hands. “I over-analyze everything.”

“Like what?”

She groaned into her hands. “Promise not to make fun?”

“Swear.” I held out my pinky. Damn friend zone.

“Okay, so he just seems forceful. Almost like he wants to impress me with his awesomeness, and then a girl stopped by.”

Yeah, I knew what girl that was, spawn of Satan herself.

“And then he said he'd be right back and didn't come back until like fifteen minutes later. He was super distracted and then when he dropped me off, he asked to kiss me.”

“He asked?” I laughed.

“Stop!” Pris pushed against me. “He was being a gentleman.”

No, he was being sneaky, that's what he was being.

“Anyway, I said yes.”

My smile hurt, it was so forced. “And?”

“And…” She licked her lips. “Oh my gosh, I'm so embarrassed, how is it that I'm talking to you about this? People's Sexiest Man Alive? This has to be a sick joke.”

“I'm your friend.” I almost choked on the word. “Not Sexiest Man Alive, not this year, that honor went to Mr. Levine.”

Pris played with a piece of her hair and looked down at the countertop. “I think I'm a bad kisser.”

I burst out laughing.

She smacked me in the arm. “You jerk! You promised not to laugh!”

“There's a difference between laughing at a person and laughing because what they're saying is so damn hilarious it's your only option.”

She looked away.

“You're not a bad kisser.” I rolled my eyes. “I would know.”

“That was hardly a kiss.”

“Excuse me?” I snapped, all humor draining from my body.

“No!” She put her hand on my arm. “I didn't mean it that way. I'm just saying he kiss-kissed me.”

“He kiss-kissed you?” I repeated. “Is that some new terminology I don't know about?”

“He used tongue.”

I was cutting off his tongue.

“Your point?” I ground out.

“I'm just saying your kiss was different and I think I'm a bad kisser, that's all I'm saying. Look, let's drop it.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Are you freaking kidding me? My pride's at stake here!”

“Jaymeson—”

“Get up.”

“Seriously! It's fine, let's just watch a movie, I'm sure I'm just being paranoid.”

“Get. Off. Your. Chair.”

Her eyes went all wide and terrified looking as she slowly moved to her feet and shoved her hands in her back pockets. “I'm up.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled. “I can't believe I'm doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Helping,” I grumbled.

“What?”

“Close your eyes.”

“No.”

“Don't be difficult,” I snapped.

She closed her eyes.

I stared like a madman. Her eyelashes were so long and thick, the girl didn't need makeup but when she wore it, all it did was accentuate her beauty.

I cupped her face.

Her lower lip trembled.

“Lesson one,” I whispered. “Stop shaking.”

“Well!” she huffed. “My eyes are closed! I don't know what you're going to do.”

“Listen.” My voice was hoarse as I cupped her face, my thumbs grazing her cheeks and lower lip. “I kiss hundreds of women. I'm an actor. It's what I do.

“I've had bad kisses, I've had great kisses. I know good kissing, so I'm your best bet right now. You need to have more freaking confidence.

“Sorry.”

“And don't apologize,” I whispered.

“Sorry.”

I groaned. “Oh, and don't panic.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm going to kiss you.”

Her lower lip stopped trembling. In fact, her entire body froze.

I leaned in, my lips only inches from hers. I hesitated, not sure how to proceed, how to kiss her without changing things. But I was an actor. I did that for a living.

I kissed girls — it was my job. I could kiss Priscilla and feel nothing.

I shut down my emotions and touched my lips to hers. Electricity coursed through me as our mouths connected, lip to lip, mouth to mouth; it was impossible to pull away.

She gave a slight moan.

And everything that I'd securely locked down went to hell.

I wrapped my arms around her tight little body and pulled her hard against me, her arms looped around my neck as she arched into me.

Dying. I was dying.

I moved my hands down her body and rested them against her hips. I wanted to lift her shirt. I wanted to plunge into her so hard that I forgot everything.

Everything but her.

Instead, somehow, I was able to slightly push her away and end the kiss.

My hands were shaking; I hoped to God she wouldn't notice the effect she had on me. The way my body trembled with unleashed desire.

“Wow…” she breathed, opening her eyes. “I'm not sure if that was you or me.”

“Both,” I managed a small smile. “But I'm the movie star, so I get more points, you understand.”

She laughed.

It wasn't awkward.

It should have been awkward. Awkward meant she was dying inside like I was. Awkward meant she wanted me like I wanted her.

Instead, she was so calm I wanted to grab her again, preferably by the hair, and rip her clothes off.

“You're a very, very good kisser,” I said hoarsely. “He's an ass if he thinks otherwise.”

“So maybe he's bad,” she offered in a teasing voice.

“It's not you,” I said honestly. “And if you don't believe me, just feel.” I grabbed her hand and placed it on my chest. “Heart racing. Check. Body humming. Check.”

“Ohh.” Her palm was warm against my chest. “So that's how you know you're a good kisser? When you make the other person's heart beat like crazy?”

Her innocence was astounding; in certain areas she seemed so mature, but when it came to guys? Sex? It was like throwing a lamb into a pack of wolves.

“It's not about the heartbeat, but about why it's beating so hard in the first place,” I said smoothly, placing my hand over hers.

She slid her hand away from mine.

I felt empty inside. Like someone just stole my soul and sold it to the highest bidder.

“Thanks, Jaymeson. You didn't have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did,” I said quickly, almost interrupting her. “And now you know.”

“That I'm a good kisser?”

“Hell no,” I swore. “That you're the freaking main course, not the appetizer, not the dessert. But the main attraction, the prize, the treasure. The full package.

“If he isn't buying into that truth? Then he can go to hell. Or I'll just spray-paint jackass on his house.”

She burst out laughing.

I'd do anything to hear her laugh.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Rein it in, Jaymeson!

“So you, uh, mentioned a movie?”

“Scary movie?” She chewed her bottom lip.

“Sure.”

Fun fact about Jamie Jaymeson? I hated scary movies. I hated things that were haunted, and Halloween was my least favorite holiday ever.

So when she said scary movie, I said yes.

Hell ya. Bring it on!