CHAPTER 24 #3
“I do,” he murmured, dipping his head down low, our foreheads nearly brushing. “I do write about you. I am a moon caught in your orbit, Daisy Carmichael. I have been spinning around you for so long I don’t even remember what it felt like before.”
As Jamie’s forehead brushed mine, it was like the electricity along his skin jumped to me. The moon and the little planet, the story he’d told Theo—a story he’d written. It’d been about us. About how he followed me, the little planet he felt irresistibly drawn toward.
“You’ve thought about kissing me these past few weeks,” he went on, shuffling his feet apart to bring himself lower, “but I’ve thought about kissing you for years.”
Years. I suddenly remembered the day at the beach, the flippant words he’d given Dalton without hesitating. I’ve been in love with Daisy since Nell and I switched schools freshman year.
He hadn’t gone off script back then—he’d been honest. Our first meeting, when I’d jumped up to throw an arm around his neck as I claimed the twins as my new best friends, it’d started then for him.
I swayed in place, the butterflies migrating from my tummy to my chest. “You should’ve told me.”
“You’re my best friend,” Jamie murmured as his fingertips brushed mine. “And you were with Dalton, and I didn’t want to ruin things. I’d rather orbit you forever than get too close and destroy everything.”
That was Jamie—pessimistic at times, a worrier at others, and the most selfless person I’d ever met.
I couldn’t imagine how painful it must’ve been for him over the years, watching me love someone else, then mourn the love of someone else.
But it’d never shown. There was never any anger, or resentment, or bitterness—only steadfast, unwavering support.
My Jamie.
“You’re better than me,” I breathed, reaching my hand up his chest and touching the warm side of his neck. I curled my fingers back further, glancing along the silky locks of his dark hair. His lashes fluttered. “If I’d wanted to kiss you the entire time I’d known you, I’d have gone crazy.”
I caught the barest glimpse of his dimple. “Patience isn’t really your strong suit.”
“No.” My fingers became a firmer pressure in his hair. “It’s not.”
And I pulled Jamie’s head down, bringing his lips finally to mine.
If I’d thought my skin sparked before as our foreheads brushed, it had nothing on the electric pulse that’d exploded through me as our lips met.
Jamie didn’t hesitate, either, his own hands sweeping up to lay on my hips, the same way he’d done the night of Lydia’s party.
All ten of his fingers held firm pressure, as if he was afraid I’d disappear if his hold was too loose.
And, holy crap.
Jamie was a fantastic kisser.
He’d kissed me a few times over the past few weeks—on my neck, on my palm, on my forehead and temple. None of them compared to the way he kissed my mouth.
There was an eagerness to his lips as they brushed along my own, and I could feel him try to tamp that eagerness down.
I could feel it in the way his hands trembled, and the way I had to chase after him when he tried to hold himself back.
It only had my heart expanding further in my chest, truly about to explode.
I curled my fingers tighter into his hair, deepening the kiss, showing him an enthusiasm of my own. I’d imagined kissing Jamie several times over these past few weeks, but none of those imaginations did this moment justice. None of them even came close.
Jamie began backing me up, causing me to stumble in my heels.
I kicked them off, which severed our connection for a moment at the drastic height difference.
I giggled as Jamie followed my lips again, and his own were curled up in a grin.
The backs of my legs hit one of the tables in the library, the same one I’d perched on the other day, and with his hold still steady on my waist, Jamie lifted me up onto it.
It didn’t help the height difference much, but Jamie spread his legs further, repositioning himself to be able to kiss me with ease.
Jamie hadn’t been my first kiss, but in that moment, I knew he was the last person I’d be kissing. There’d be no one else but him.
And I’d never, ever, ever let him kiss anyone the way he kissed me now.
My Jamie.
A shriek cut through the air of the library. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
Jamie and I separated with a gasp, turning to find the library door wide open and Nellie and Beck standing in the middle of the threshold.
Nellie had her hands pressed over her eyes, but Beck looked at us, arm around Nellie’s waist, with the biggest grin on his face.
They weren’t the only ones there, either.
I could see Lydia poking her head into the doorway, with Dalton looming behind them.
If Raelynn was out in the hallway with them, I didn’t see her.
I didn’t look at Dalton again. In fact, the only two people I cared about in that hallway were Nellie and Beck.
“Listen, I’m glad,” Nellie cried, still with her palms covering her face. “But—my eyes!”
Jamie straightened a little from the crouch he’d kissed me from, but didn’t move far. “We didn’t react this way when we caught her kissing Beck,” he mumbled to me, turning his back on the doorway.
“If I remember correctly, we cheered her on.” The tips of Jamie’s ears were red, as was the skin of his neck as it disappeared under the collar of his shirt. This time, I did reach out and press my fingers to the skin, basking in the heat there. “Quite rude of her.”
Jamie shivered a little at the touch.
There was still one more thing that I realized I hadn’t told him. “Is now a good time to tell you that I got into NYU?”
“What?” Jamie’s eyes widened again. “You got accepted off the waitlist?”
I grinned as I nodded, watching as sparkles literally filled Jamie’s eyes. He wrapped his arms around me and drew me into his chest, clearly forgetting about the audience we had in the hallway.
“Okay!” Nellie lunged forward and grabbed the door’s handle. “We—we’re going to talk about PDA later—”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Beck called, just as Nellie snapped the door shut.
Jamie wasted no time in turning back to me. “You got in,” he repeated, this time a smile stretching across his face. The dimple poked in his cheek, and his hands settled at my waist again. “I knew you would. Daze, I knew it.”
I felt like I could’ve exploded with happiness. “That means our graphic novel dream is back on, if you’re still interested.”
“It was never off.” Another slow grin spread across his lips. “You still want to use Kit, don’t you? I thought he was a pretty handsome character for a graphic novel—”
“You did see!”
“I saw the night I climbed the tree into your room.” Jamie pushed some of my hair back behind my ear, his fingers trailing along my neck—tickling at the exact same spot he’d kissed all those weeks ago.
“You left your sketchbook open on your desk. I thought it was a little conceited of me to think we looked similar, but.” He gave a theatrical shrug.
“I can’t believe it took Beck saying something for me to notice.”
Jamie chuckled at that. “Except should I be alarmed you’ve been drawing me dying for the past four years?”
“Kit’s invincible,” I told him, reaching for his suit jacket, smoothing my fingers down the lapels. “Even when he gets his head chopped off, he doesn’t die. So take it as a compliment—I drew a version of you I could never lose.”
“You could never lose me in the first place.” Jamie dropped a kiss to the top of my head, then to my forehead, ducking himself lower again. “You’re stuck with me.”
“You’re stuck with me,” I corrected, fingers sneaking past his suit jacket to pry his tie out. “The NYU campus is a half hour from Columbia’s. We’re going to be two cute college students in love.”
Jamie tried to quell his smile, but failed. “I can’t wait.”
I wound his tie around my hand, cinching it in my fist and drawing him toward me.
Our lips met halfway, Jamie’s hand pressing flat into the table to brace himself, the other lifting to tilt my head back further.
I had a feeling this was something else I’d never get enough of—kissing Jamie.
I felt a little bad for Nellie. But not that bad.
After a moment, I pulled back, gasping for a breath. “I love you,” I whispered, still gripping his tie, still holding him to me. “I didn’t say it earlier. I love you, James Brighton.”
And then, delicately, I pushed his glasses up his nose.
For a guy who claimed he didn’t read romances—which was a complete lie, because I’d looked it up, and A Tale of Two Cities totally is a romance—he looked at me the way all the romance leads in books did.
Like there was no one else in the entire world but me.
Maybe he didn’t like romances, but I was certain that we were his favorite to date.
“I love you, my little planet,” Jamie murmured, once more touching his forehead to mine. “Always.”
Yeah. Like a dream, indeed.