Chapter 183: Chapter Twenty-One

Jaymeson

I hadn't saved her.

My Nanna, basically the only family that cared about me.

She'd died when I was three and I hadn't saved her. I should have known she was sad. I should have known. I tried so hard to make her happy too.

When is love ever enough?

Her smile haunted me all night.

I woke up to the beeping of my cell alarm — I was so exhausted I wanted to hit snooze, but I had breakfast to make.

I rubbed my eyes and yawned, then looked around the room. Damn, I was warm.

And then I froze.

My eyes took in the sleeping girl next to me. Holy shit. Did I get drunk last night and have sex with her? Did I seduce her? She had all her clothes on? What the hell?

I'd never slept with a girl just to sleep with her. I didn't even know my body was capable of being in the same proximity as a hot chick without trying something.

Pris moaned in her sleep. “Turn off your alarm… so loud.”

Shaking, I turned off the alarm, still staring at her.

She opened her eyes and groaned. “Stop staring at me, it's creepy. Where's my breakfast?”

“Why are you here?” I asked in the calmest voice I could manage.

“You had nightmares all night. Woke me up from my sleep. Freaked me out. And you wouldn't wake up, so I tried to calm you down and that's when you attached yourself to me like a leech.”

Yeah, I definitely felt myself start to blush. “Oh.”

“It's fine. At least I wasn't cold last night. It was like sleeping next to an oven.”

“Aw, you calling me hot, love?”

“Temperature-wise,” she grumbled into the pillow. “Yes.”

Damn, she was beautiful. Her dark hair was twisted all around her head, and splayed across the white pillow.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “For the uh… rescue.” Because that's what she'd done.

When I had been little and I screamed, nobody came.

When I screamed last night — she did.

And a few months ago at Alec and Nat's wedding, I'd rejected her and offered to have a threesome with her and basically told her she was an inexperienced teen.

Granted, I'd apologized, but with our track record I would have expected her to record my nightmares and post them on YouTube. Not come to my rescue.

Not comfort me while I had nightmares of my Nanna's death.

“That's what friends are for.” She smiled.

“No.” I reached out and touched her face. “Not possible. You look more beautiful now than I've ever seen you.” My voice was gravelly with sleep.

“Thanks.” A crimson stain rose in her high cheekbones. “But I think I'll still take a shower.”

I wanted to say I'd join her.

But suddenly… cheapening what we had, even if it was friendship, didn't seem right anymore, even if I was joking.

“Shower.” I nodded. “And I'll cook you the best breakfast of your life.”

“Ooo,” she squealed. “Even better than yesterday?” She flipped onto her back and kicked her feet in excitement.

I loved that she was excited about food.

“Way better!” I hit my fist against the pillow. “I promise.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Because those pancakes were bomb.”

“Who says bomb anymore?” I laughed out loud.

“I do! I live in Oregon! Give me some credit! The cool words hit us super late…” She winked.

I reached for her waist and pulled her up to a sitting position. She squealed again and tried to get away, but I held her firm, my hands burning into her sides.

My face was inches away from hers.

It would be so easy to kiss her.

So easy to seduce her, to rip her clothes off, to show her pleasure, to show her that I was worth it — that maybe I needed more saving than she realized.

Her smile died.

I tucked her hair behind her ear. “You're right, maybe a shower will do you good.”

Her brown eyes narrowed. “I thought I was beautiful?”

“You are…” I whispered. ”…too beautiful for your own good. Now go shower so I can show off.”

“‘Kay.” She bounced off the bed and padded out of the room, while I fell back against the pillows and told my body to calm the hell down.

She wasn't the only one needing a shower; only mine needed to be colder than ice. Maybe I should jump in the ocean — that would kill the arousal fast.

“Hurry up, Jaymeson!” she called.

“Hurrying!” I yelled back, grabbing my phone from under my pillow and sending a quick message to her.

Me

Have a gorgeous day, gorgeous.

Priscilla S.

Thanks! You too!

****

“I think that's it.” I stacked the last box and felt my chest constrict with annoyance. The last damn box, and it was only eleven in the morning.

“Wow!” Pris dusted off her hands. “We rocked this!”

“That we did.” I smiled, my eyes lingering on her longer than necessary.

“So.” She looked around the room. “I guess that's it. Do you know where you're spending the rest of the week?”

“No.” I pulled out my cell. “Peter will send me an e-mail update for my next task. I should probably go down to the Chamber and introduce myself, but…”

“I'll go with you,” Pris offered with a shrug. “We can go down there now if you want.”

No. I didn't want to. What I wanted was to keep her all to myself.

“Sure. Sounds great. Want to grab lunch afterwards?”

Her face flickered with uncertainty, so I quickly added, “You know, as friends? So I can thank you for saving me last night?”

She blushed. “It was nothing. I was worried.”

“Nobody worries about me,” I said without thinking.

Her eyes drew together in concern. She opened her mouth, but I laughed and changed the subject. “So, what do you say?”

“Sure.”

Pris gave me directions as I drove us down to the Chamber. It was only a two-minute drive — yes, Seaside really was that small.

“Should we just go in?”

“Yeah.” She laughed, reaching for the door. “That's what people normally do when they need to meet with other people.”

“Ah, so you're a smart ass today.”

“What can I say? You're rubbing off on me.”

“If only,” I teased.

“Aw, the whore's making an appearance. I was beginning to think you were hiding him.”

“He never hides.”

“Right.” Her smile was soft, not teasing, but so damn pretty that I had to look away. I locked the car and offered her my arm.

“Oh wow, and manners?” She looped her arm in mine.

“I'm British. It's how we do things.”

“I like it,” she said under her breath, so quietly I almost didn't catch it.

I opened the door for her when we got to the large white building and waited for her to go in, placing my hand on the small of her back as I ushered her through.

The secretary at the desk was humming some song that sounded vaguely like AD2's newest hit, and looked up.

The pencil fell from her mouth.

I smiled.

She sneezed.

“You have an odd effect on women,” Pris pointed out.

“They lose all bodily control,” I joked.

“Mr. Um…” The lady coughed. “Jaymeson, is it?”

“Hello.” I held out my hand.

She stared at it, then finally, as if realizing she was supposed to shake it, gripped it in the weakest shake known to mankind and retreated like a scared rabbit. “We weren't expecting you… ever.”

“I know.” I flashed her a movie-star smile. “But I figured it was best to introduce myself in person since you guys are the ones in charge of my schedule.”

“Really?” She screeched then cleared her throat. “I mean, really, how interesting.” She held up her hand. “One moment and I'll get the mayor.”

“Wow, we're in the big times now,” Pris whispered.

I elbowed her.

Seconds later the mayor came barreling down the hall. “Mr. Jaymeson, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Oh, I just wanted to introduce myself, and say thank you for putting me to work for the next few weeks. It's been really fun.”

“Fun?” The mayor's eyes narrowed. “You worked at the church packing donation boxes, son.”

I shrugged.

“Hmm.” He peered around me to Priscilla. “And how are you, Miss Garcia? Are you doing well? How's your father? Terrible tragedy about the fire.”

“Great.” Her smile didn't reach her eyes. “Dad's fine and fires happen.”

“Good.” He returned his attention to me. “It seems you have the rest of the day free. But tomorrow you'll start at the Goodwill.”

“Right on.” Yeah, allow me to contain that excitement. I wasn't going to be with Pris — that alone rained on my damn parade.

“Very good.” He offered his hand again. “Thanks for stopping by. Huge fan, by the way, huge fan.”

“Er, thanks.” I took his hand and then gave a wave to the secretary as I escorted Pris out of the building.

“Are people always freaked out by your presence?” she asked once we reached the car.

“All but you.” I smiled.

“Looks can be deceiving.” She reached for the car door, but I opened it before she got a chance and helped her inside, while simultaneously mulling over what the hell that meant.

And if it meant what I hoped it meant. That I actually affected her — that she may want me. That she may think of me as more than just the inappropriate whorish friend.

“Are you free the rest of the day?” I asked.

“Hold on.” She pulled out her phone and smiled.

Shit.

Really? If it was Smith I was going to ram my fist into a wall.

“Um, well, Smith just asked if I could meet him for a movie tonight, so…”

“No.” I waved her off and gave a fake laugh. “You should go.”

“Really?” Her face fell. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” I nodded way too enthusiastically. “It's good. I mean, dates are good, right?” I hated being the friend. Effing hated it.

“So…” Her eyes narrowed. “I should go on a date. With Smith?”

“Sure.” My hands gripped the steering wheel. “Whatever you want. It's your life, right?”

Too far.

“Fine.” She looked back at her phone. “I'll just text him back and say I'd love to go on a date with him.”

“Good.”

“Yeah. Great.” She sighed.

I felt like an ass the entire way to the restaurant. Praying for the tense air to crackle with something. Or for her to make a noise other than her slight breathing. It was killing me.

But what could I do? Say no? Don't date him? Date me? I was leaving. I was leaving her.

Girls like Pris, they were the ones you took home. They were the ones you married and had kids with. They were the ones who expected more than I could ever hope to offer.

I could offer her a good time.

And as much as I hated to admit it — it was entirely possible Smith or some other guy could offer her what she deserved, not just needed — love.