Chapter 33 For You
Chapter thirty-three
For You
Marigold Belmore
The sunset paints the campus in a shade of golden peach. An icy breeze sweeps my hair back, and I snuggle into Jameson’s side more as a result. He presses his lips to the crown of my head.
“This is so perfect it makes me wish I would have told you I loved you sooner,” he says in a low voice.
There are plenty of other students meandering the campus grounds, so our walk is not as private as I’d like it to be.
Not that I want to keep our newfound relationship a secret, but I’d like to be able to tell my friends instead of running into them this way.
One might think I’d keep distance between me and Jameson until I tell my friends, but I can’t resist.
After that kiss, I never want to stop touching him.
His wish to tell me sooner proves he feels the same.
And yet, I don’t know that it would have worked out any other way.
I’ve been encased in a shell of hurt, calling it protection, when in reality it was just keeping me from the one thing—the one person—who loved me most. I needed the time apart to show me I wasn’t protecting myself from anything; I was just choosing a different kind of pain.
Maybe more than that I needed to see Jameson apologize not just in word, but in action.
“That’s funny, because I was thinking I should have held out longer to see the groveling I was promised.
” I tease him, not quite ready to voice those more emotional thoughts.
We’ve done so much of that recently. It might be selfish of me, but I just want to rest in this moment with him. Drink in the sunset and his love.
He chuckles. “I’m happy to oblige you.”
“Would you get on your knees? All proper begging requires a little posturing, after all.”
I tip my head up to grin at him as we walk down the tree-lined path near my building.
“For you?” His gaze is soft with adoration, but there’s a spark of something more heated that makes my stomach swoop. “I’d crawl.”
I bite my lip and look away, my face hot.
It’s going to take time for me to get accustomed to this side of Jameson.
I know him as a friend, and though I’ve been attracted to him for some time, a crush is a lot different than this tension being wound up within me.
Just a look from him turns my core molten.
It’s disconcerting to have a man I know so well be entirely new to me in many ways.
We turn and my building comes into view. I can see through the large glass windows that the lounge area is bustling with students. Some having dinner at the various tables, others gathered around TVs to watch shows or play games. A typical evening on campus for most. But not for me.
I kissed my best friend.
He told me he’s in love with me.
I steal a glance at Jameson, to find him doing the same to me.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks as we near the doors to the building.
“How everything is different, yet the same,” I reply honestly. “We’re still us, but …”
“More,” Jameson supplies.
I nod in agreement. He opens the door for me, and I scan the lobby for anyone we might know. No one stands out right away.
“It’s a good thing.” I reassure him as we make our way to the elevators. “Just a lot to process.”
“I understand,” he says, and squeezes me to his side.
“There’s also the whole telling-my-friends aspect. I think they might pass out.” I laugh. “I went from telling them you’re my enemy, to considering you as a friend again, and now this. They’re going to get whiplash.”
Or maybe they’ll say they’ve been waiting for this all along. I suspect at least Jasmine will, given her past words on the subject.
The elevator dings, and after a few girls file out, we get on alone. I press the number five.
“Your enemy, huh?” Jameson asks.
I give him a wary look. “You had a nickname and everything.”
His dark brows rise. “What was it?”
I bury my face in his chest and mumble, “The Traitor.”
“Ouch,” he says with a half laugh. “I guess I deserved that. Do you think your roommates will approve of us, or will they be apprehensive because of what I did?”
I pull back to look up at him. Concern lines his features.
If I know Jameson—and I do—he’s going to carry the guilt of the internship for much longer than he should.
To him, it probably looks as though I needed all these months to muster up the ability to forgive him.
In reality, I think I forgave him much faster, but the idea of heartbreak at his hands kept me from reconciliation.
“I think they’ll be happy for me. Jasmine especially will be ecstatic. I think she’s been secretly rooting for this all along.”
“I hope so, because I’m not groveling for anyone but you,” he says, making me laugh.
The elevator dings, then opens onto the fifth floor.
“I wouldn’t want you to.”
We walk down the thankfully empty hallway, all the way to unit 504. I put my back to the door, facing him.
“I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” I ask, and try not to cringe at the awkward question.
My mind tries to send me into a spiral over how things wouldn’t be this way if we were just friends, but I don’t let myself go there.
This is good, I coach myself. We’re allowed to have good things.
“Would you want to meet for coffee before class?” he asks.
I smile. “I would love that.”
He returns my smile, then bends down to give me a gentle kiss.
“I love you, Goldie,” he whispers against my lips.
“Can I say I love you, too? Even though it’s not the same kind of love as yours yet?” I ask, hoping it won’t hurt him to do so.
He gives me another kiss.
“Of course. Just let me know if it changes,” he says as he pulls back.
When, I correct internally. I don’t think there’s a question of if in regards to falling in love with Jameson.
I might already be in love with him, but I’m too afraid to admit it without knowing for sure.
What’s the difference between the love we had before and this one?
Once I sort that out, I’ll be able to voice it.
“I will,” I reply quietly.
“I’ll meet you in the lobby tomorrow around seven,” he says as he takes a step back.
I nod. “I’ll be there.” Without sleep, but that’s okay. Between thinking of all of this and my homework, I doubt I’ll even get a full hour tonight.
I watch him walk to the elevator, then fish my keys out of my messenger bag and unlock the front door.
When I get inside, I find a rare sight: all of my roommates in the same place twice in the same week.
With all of our busy schedules, it’s not often we can sit together for extended periods, though we do our best to make time for it.
Since they likely sacrificed something in their own schedules to take care of me the other day, I didn’t expect to see them like this so soon.
“Is this a mirage?” I joke as I walk into the living room.
My heart is playing double Dutch in my chest. I know that they’ll all be supportive, but it’s still nerve-wracking to say everything out loud when I’m still not sure what everything is.
“It’s nothing short of a miracle,” Jasmine says with a smile from where she’s sitting with her laptop on the couch. “I didn’t think you’d be home until later.”
I lean my bag against the couch, then sit down on one of the empty cushions.
Saylor and Aurora are both on the floor.
Saylor is on her stomach, highlighter in hand, pouring over a criminally large medical textbook.
Meanwhile, Aurora is using some kind of pink resistance band to exercise or stretch her feet—I can’t tell the difference.
“I decided to study here instead of the library.”
“Did Jameson steal your table again?” Saylor asks, looking up from her page.
“Uh, no,” I reply with an awkward laugh.
Jasmine narrows her eyes. My other two roommates follow suit.
“What are you hiding?” Jasmine demands to know.
I tug the sleeves of my sweater over my palms. Why is it so hard to tell people things?
I’ve got to get better about this sort of thing, or else I’m never going to have any friends other than Jameson.
He’s known me long enough that he understands I’m better at writing my feelings than talking about them.
“Did you kiss him or something?” Aurora asks in a flat tone.
My face heats at her spot-on guess. Saylor gasps and points at me.
“You did not!”
I bite my lip. Jasmine snaps her laptop shut and sets it aside.
“Did you really?” she asks with wide eyes.
I look at each of them, note the varying levels of excitement, and then nod. The room erupts in chaos and squealing—mostly from Saylor.
“You have to tell us everything,” Saylor says as she caps her highlighter.
So I do. And it goes even better than I would have hoped, because somehow, with all of my flaws, I’ve tricked these three amazing women into being friends with me.