Chapter 35
Sam
It’s dark when we step out of the theater, the marathon of movies having stolen the day. We hopped from one to the next, getting through three before deciding we’d finally call it quits and head to the party.
With each movie, the tension Jameson always carries seemed to slip away. Sometimes, I wonder what he’d be like without the burdens he has to carry. What all of us would be like.
I guess all we can really ask for are these little glimpses. The moments we can carve out of our lives, where we can forget. Let go. Where we can just be.
We all file into the car, and I switch on the radio, turning up the volume and cranking down my window.
Jameson glances over at me. “Better?”
My head bobs to the song that’s drifting around us. “Better.”
His face softens before he turns, bringing his arm to the headrest behind me and backing out into the street.
I light a cigarette, handing the pack to Billy after he taps my shoulder. Jameson holds out his hand, and after taking a drag, I pass mine to him.
“Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses filters through the speakers, and I lean forward, turning it up until they rattle.
Billy’s drumming on the back of my seat speeds up, and I laugh when he belts the lyrics. Jameson’s hand brushes mine as he slips the cigarette from my fingers again and tucks it between his lips. He hands it back as we slow in front of Dougie’s house, the song just coming to an end.
I take one last drag then step out of the car and grind the cherry out under my shoe. A cool wind whips around me, blowing my hair into my face. Jameson comes up behind me, and I feel his rough hands smooth it back into place.
The gate to the backyard is open, voices and a steady thump of bass spilling into the street.
“Let’s go,” Billy says, following the sound of the party.
A tall bonfire lights the space, the flames flickering as people dance and move around it. The heat cuts through the chill as we walk over to the foldable table lined with liquor bottles.
Billy goes for the tequila, as Jameson lingers at my side. He passes me a cup then hands one to Jameson when a brunette comes up to the table.
She looks between the three of us, her eyes going to Jameson’s hand that’s wrapped around my middle, his thumb hooked into the top of my sweatpants.
A blush colors her cheeks as she quickly looks away, focusing on Billy.
It’s not until he says her name that I realize it’s the girl from the front office that changed Jameson’s schedule on the first day of school.
“How’ve you been?” Billy asks, rounding the table.
She bites her lip, fumbling with the cup she just grabbed. “Good,” she breathes as he stills her hand and takes over pouring her a drink.
He pushes further into her space, leaning down and talking quietly against her ear. She nods, and he smirks before glancing back at me and Jameson.
“Gonna go dance. Catch you later, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he follows her over to the crowd around the fire.
“That might be a new record,” Jameson mutters.
“Do you think—”
“Jameson,” a low voice cuts in.
A guy I don’t recognize is standing in front of us, his attention drifting to me and lingering a bit too long.
“Stop looking at her like that,” Jameson barks as he moves around me, blocking me from the guy’s view. “What do you want, Evan?”
“I was just wondering if you had any—”
Jameson holds out a hand, cutting him off.
Evan immediately snaps his mouth shut.
Pointing, Jameson says, “Go wait for me over there.”
Evan slinks off, and Jameson turns to me. “Sorry, baby, just give me a minute to go deal with him, okay?”
I know the drill by now. This isn’t the first time this has happened at a party.
“I’ll wait here,” I tell him.
He dips down, brushing his lips over mine, and then I watch as he walks over to Evan. Once he’s in front of him, he jerks his chin toward the front of the house, and Evan follows behind him.
I turn back to the table, taking a slow sip of my drink. I want to down it, but I’m trying to pace myself, remembering my promise to Jameson.
A couple people wander over to the table, grabbing a drink without a word. After a few minutes, I start to get bored and fish a cigarette out from my purse.
“Those things will kill you, ya know?”
I exhale, looking over my shoulder, and am met with dark eyes and a flirtatious smile.
“Hadn’t heard,” I deadpan.
The guy moves around the table until he’s next to me. “Not very friendly.”
I take a step back. “Not interested.”
Instead of being deterred, he takes my words as a challenge, closing the space between us. “Bet I can make you interested. Hot girl like—”
“Fuck off,” Jameson demands. “Now.”
The guy startles, turning to face him. “We were just—”
Jameson crosses his arms over his chest, a hard look on his face, and the guy inches back.
“Sorry,” he stammers before looking over at me. “Sorry,” he repeats. “I didn’t—”
“Stop talking,” Jameson says dryly.
“Yeah.” The guy shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. I’m just gonna …” He trails off, quickly turning to leave.
Jameson comes up beside me as I drop my finished cigarette into an abandoned cup of beer. “You okay?” he asks.
I nod, glancing up at him, rolling my lips.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?”
“Just …” I smile into my cup. “That was satisfying.”
He tilts his head.
“Watching you make him run away like that,” I clarify.
He laughs. “He did run away, didn’t he?”
I snort before taking a sip of my drink.
Jameson nudges my arm. “You still taking it slow?”
“This is only my second,” I answer. When he keeps quiet, I add, “And my last.”
He stares down at me for a minute then nods.
Reaching out, he takes my hand and leads us over to the fire pit. He sinks into one of the empty lawn chairs, and I go to sit in the one next to him, but his grip on my hand tightens.
“Where’re you going?”
I flick my eyes up to meet his and watch as they drop to his lap.
Slowly, I move toward him, holding his gaze. He leans back into the chair, spreading his long legs out in front of him. I lower myself down so I’m balanced on his thigh, and he wraps an arm around me, pulling my back into his chest.
I tilt my head, my lips nearly brushing his ear. “I wanna go dance.”
He groans, shifting beneath me. “Now?”
“Mmhmm.”
“But we just sat down.”
“No, you just sat down. I was practically pulled into your lap.”
“I like you in my lap.”
“I know you do.”
“So, why don’t you stay in it, hmm?”
“I already told you.” I skate my fingers across his arm that’s draped around my waist. “You gonna dance with me this time?”
He shakes his head. “I’d rather watch.”
I tap his arm, and he loosens it, letting me shift so I’m facing him.
“Really?” he says, the word teasing. “You’re pouting now?”
“Is it working?”
“I told you, I don’t dance.”
“But you’re not just dancing,” I say, leaning forward. “You’re dancing with me.”
His gaze heats, and I know I’ve almost got him.
I brush my lips against his. “Come on, Jamie; don’t you wanna dance with me?”
He lets out a breath. “You fuck me up. You know that?”
I tilt my head innocently.
“I’d probably jump off a building if you asked me to.”
“That a yes, then?”
“Yeah, baby,” he says with a low laugh, “that’s a yes.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, hiding a smile, and slide off his lap.
He stands behind me, letting me lead us into the crowd of people dancing, where everyone seems to part for us, surprise flashing across their faces when they see Jameson.
Finding a spot in the center, I throw back the rest of my drink and drop my Solo cup, crushing it beneath my shoe. The low bass of the music pulses around us as I start to move.
At first, Jameson is stiff, rigid even, but soon he starts to mirror my movements, his body melting against mine. His hands come to my waist, pulling me in closer. Everything else fades away, one song blurring into the next.
His touch fuels me, and I flip my position so my back is to his front, loving the fact that he’s only here for me. That he’s never danced with another girl. Never had his hands on anyone else. That he’s mine. That he’s only ever been mine.