14. Bailey
I half hopedJamie wouldn’t move. If he did, he’d hear the pounding of my heart. What would he do with that kind of information? Was I ready to find out? Did he know how much this meant to me? How much he meant to me?
I was serious about kissing him, serious about my feelings for him. I didn’t know what to do if he made fun of me. Or hated kissing me. Or decided when it was all said and done, we couldn’t be friends anymore. But here we were.
Slowly, so dang slow, Jamie rose from the deep cushion and took one step toward me, then another. He sank beside me, close enough to feel his warmth but not so close we touched.
I fought the urge to put distance between us, which was ridiculous. We weren’t even going to kiss tonight. We wouldn’t kiss lip to lip until kiss number four. I had no reason to be nervous. Yet.
“So…” Jamie sounded so unsure, I giggled. Soon we were both laughing.
“I’m sorry,” I said through my giggles. This was insane. What was I thinking? I worked to get myself under control.
“Wow, this is just—” Jamie shook his head, a smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay, let’s do this. What are the rules? And seriously, what is an Eskimo kiss?”
Near uncontrollable laughter was a good tension breaker, and I was ready to implement my plan. Or at least, I thought I was.
I considered his question about rules. “Yeah, we probably need somerules. Add any you think of.”
Jamie nodded.
“First, respect. No kissing and telling. Or making fun.”
“Agreed.” Jamie nodded again.
“And neither of us has to do anything we don’t want to. This stops whenever either of us says it does.”
“Absolutely.”
“And no kissing out of order. We go according to the list. One kiss per make-out session and no skipping ahead.”
I had a reason for my methods. I didn’t want to rush into kissing Jamie. This wasn’t about raging teenage hormones. I wanted Jamie to realize that kissing and being close affected how you felt about someone and how they felt about you. I knew Jamie had hurt some feelings over the last year, and he didn’t even know it. That wasn’t the guy he was, even if I understood his motivation.
Jamie’s brows furrowed a little at that last one. “One kiss per session as in one type of kiss? Or one kiss as in only one of that type of kiss per session?”
Holy smokes. Was it hot in here? Why had I worn a sweater?
“Um, it wouldn’t be a make-out session if it was just one kiss, right?” I gave myself mental props for coming up with an answer. “You have anything to add?” I asked.
Jamie surprised me by picking up my hand. I raised my gaze to meet his. His eyes were serious. “Promise to tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable. This was your idea, but if you say stop, we stop.”
That seemed unlikely to happen, but I didn’t argue with him. I nodded my agreement.
“And,” he cleared his throat. “And you can’t hate me when this is over.”
When this was over.
Those four little words were like a splash of cold water. My purpose for this was two-fold. I wanted Jamie to see how he could hurt girls with his NCMO ways, but I also wanted him to know that I loved him and maybe he loved me, too. I didn’t want this to be over. Ever.
“Okay, James.”
“Deal?” He adjusted our hands and shook.
“Deal.”
“All rightthen. Eskimo kisses.”
Right. I flipped the page in my little notebook and read the definition from the internet. “Eskimo kisses, also known as a nose kiss or nose rub. Performed by rubbing one’s nose against another’s nose.”
Jamie’s face scrunched. “Noses.”
“Yup, noses.”
“You want to make out...with our noses?”
Well, it sounded kind of crazy when he said it like that. However, I believed in my plan. Mostly.
“Yes,” I said decisively. “Noses.”
Jamie’s eyes danced with amusement. “Whatever you say, boss.”
We’d begunside-by-side on the sectional sofa, but while talking over the rules, I’d kicked off my shoes and shifted to face him, my knee resting on his thigh. Jamie moved his arm to the back of the couch behind my head.
He was big. Playing football and lifting weights had done wonders for his body. I liked it. Being beside him made me feel safe.
I had no idea how to do this, no idea how to be close to Jamie like this. I should say just kidding and make a run for it. But more than anything, I wanted to snuggle under his arm and press my cheek to his chest.
“Bales.” Jamie’s voice sounded like he’d just eaten a handful of gravel. I couldn’t look at him.
With unexpected tenderness, he tipped my chin up.
“Noses,” he chuckled under his breath.
Noses. Why had I ever come up with this plan? Sitting this close, my mouth watered to kiss him. His lips were right there! But I couldn’t break my own rules.
“It’s just to get used to being in each other’s space,” I defended my first kiss choice. He made me breathless.
Jamie leaned forward, his eyes never leaving mine, tilting his head the smallest fraction until our noses touched, our lips just missing.
“In your space,” he breathed. “Got it.”
I shuddered. He was good at this. Too good. And if the grin on his face was any indication, he knew it, too.
It was so silly until it wasn’t. Jamie continued his sweet assault on my nose. Eskimo kisses were meant to be friendly. I always gave Preston Eskimo kisses when I put him to bed.
Jamie wasn’t Preston.
He overwhelmed my senses. His heat. His scent. His everything. What should have been silly became unbearably sensual with just our noses. No other part of our bodies touched except where my knee rested on his leg. Jamie didn’t touch me anywhere else.
But my face tingled. The almost touches of his cheek and lips were as stimulating as the brush of his nose against mine.
It wasn’t just me, either. Jamie’s pulse throbbed in his neck. His breath grew ragged as he caressed my cheek with his nose. He’d gone off course. This was not on my list. But who was I to complain when the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end? His nose trailed a path across my temple, along my jaw, until it reached my chin.
He broke contact with my face then, backing away until our eyes met. I didn’t understand the way he watched me. Half frowning and a lot confused.
I wasn’t ready for it to end. Jamie had made the first move. But hadn’t this whole thing been my idea?
He’d sat back on the sofa. I couldn’t reach him. Shifting my weight, I sat on my foot. He didn’t move but watched intently as I inched closer. It took more courage than I’d imagined. I felt vulnerable and inexperienced.
Jamie tipped his head just a fraction, enough for me to reach the tip of his nose with mine. I craved more. Closing my eyes, I did what he’d done to me—brushing my nose over his, inhaling his scent, committing each sensation to memory. For several long seconds, I allowed myself the freedom to explore his face. Eskimo kisses were impossibly more intimate than I ever imagined.
Finally, I followed a path over his temple, down the slope of his jaw, raspy with faint whiskers, until I reached his chin and pulled away.
The furrow between Jamie’s brows had deepened. He studied me carefully, his body perfectly still except for the unsteady rise and fall of his chest and shoulders as he breathed.
“Can I see that list again?” he asked, startling me from our staring contest.
I handed him the memo notebook.
Jamie reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened his camera app and snapped a picture of the list before handing the notebook back.
“Well, that was fun,” he said, quickly standing.
Whoa.
I supposed that meant we were finished for the night. Jamie reached down to pick up my boots off the floor and handed them to me. He didn’t even give me a chance to put them on before herding me out the door.
“Good night,” he called and slammed the door at my back.
What in the world?
JAMIE
I needed another cold shower.
Freaking Eskimo kisses!