Chapter 20 Write Your Vows #2
The ball springs off his fingers. There’s just enough time for him to scrub the back of his hand over his eyes. To watch the ball circle the rim three times, teetering on the edge of falling off.
He holds his breath. Jamie gasps.
The ball drops in.
“You get me at my best. My absolute worst,” Jordan says. “You see my flaws and never turn away from me. And I’m terrified of losing that. Of losing you. But I don’t give up. I never quit.”
Jamie snorts like he’s well aware of that fact.
Jordan takes a cautious step forward. “There is no ‘right’ person for me,” he manages through his stubborn sinuses. “There’s just the man I love. Easily. Naturally.”
Another step.
“I don’t know how to love anyone like I love you, Jamie.”
Then another.
“I’m willing to suffer through a hundred bad dinners with your parents.” He chokes on a laugh. “All the fights. All their bullshit. I will sit there and grin and hold your hand through everything.”
Now, Jamie sniffs, but he’s still quiet.
Jordan decides to continue. “You don’t have to chase that feeling anymore. I’m right here.” He gets closer. “I’m yours. If you want me.”
Jamie doesn’t back away.
“Because I want you,” Jordan adds. “Your bad dancing and rom-com obsessions and cheating at Mario Kart. I want all of you.”
It’s quiet for way too long. Jamie bites his bottom lip. The front of his hair’s pushed back and there are deep lines creasing his brow. With every second, the ache rises in Jordan. The rejection is imminent.
“My turn?” Jamie says, low and rough.
Jordan can’t say no. He can’t beg Jamie to just tell him what he’s thinking. He made up this silly game. He has to see it through to the end.
Even if it ends him.
He nods. “Your turn.”
Jamie takes the ball to the free-throw line. He tries dribbling, but there’s a reason Jamie played soccer in high school for approximately three days. Coordination is not his strength. He chases after the ball, cheeks flushed. His form is terrible, but Jordan doesn’t correct him.
It’s the last thing he’s worried about.
The ball clanks on the rim but, shockingly, drops in.
“I ended things with Sloane,” Jamie says, direct and to the point.
“You did?”
Jamie doesn’t answer. He grabs the ball and shoots again. This time, it barely wobbles through the net.
“I was so mad at you at the engagement dinner because…” he trails off, dragging a gruff hand through his hair. “Because I needed to do that.”
Jordan blinks, confused.
Jamie sighs. “I appreciate what you did that night. But I don’t want people to stand up against my parents for me. I need to learn to do it for myself. I’m an adult, Jordan. I don’t want to be rescued. Let me save myself.”
“Yeah,” Jordan says. “Okay.”
A frown overtakes Jamie’s face.
“They’ll always be my parents,” he says. “And they’ll always use that as a way to control me instead of love me unless I’m the one to shut them down.”
Jordan pinches the inside of his cheek between his teeth. He understands Jamie’s anger now. Why he lashed out at him. Jordan thought he was defending Jamie. But he took away the chance for Jamie to defend himself.
He didn’t have faith that Jamie would.
“I’m sorry,” he says, soft and sincere.
Jamie marches back to the line and shoots. The ball misses the hoop completely. It sails to the left and hits the fence.
Jamie, however, doesn’t seem to care. “I had a long talk with my parents,” he starts.
“Uh, Jamie. You missed?”
He ignores Jordan. “I told them I’m done. With all their bullshit. That if they couldn’t love me for the man I’ve become, I don’t need them.”
Jordan smiles.
“There’s no bargaining with how I live my life. Who I love,” Jamie says confidently. “I’ll give up my apartment. The fucking Jeep. Whatever. Their money won’t decide who I am anymore.”
A new ripple of tears fills Jordan’s eyes. He’s so proud of Jamie. No, he’s happy for him. He’s always been proud of Jamie for being himself, unapologetically. But he’s happy Jamie knows he deserves better.
Jordan rolls him the ball.
Jamie kicks it away.
“Okay,” Jordan says, “so there’s this thing called rules and—”
Jamie cuts him off. “It was so hard to stay away from you. While you were planning the wedding. After I rejected you last year. Every time I saw you before that. After our first kiss.”
He grins crookedly, even as his nose turns red. As plump tears slide down his cheeks.
“It was so hard not to call up Denz, my best friend in the entire world,” he goes on with a small laugh, “and tell him how much I wanted you.”
Jordan’s heart climbs his throat. “It was?”
“Inconceivably hard.”
“Did you learn that word from The Princess Bride?”
“Jordan, have you not been paying attention? I learn everything from romances.”
He crosses the court. Stops just short of Jordan. His eyes circle Jordan’s face. Behind his lashes, there’s something raw and tortured. Jordan’s terrified this is the part where Jamie says he can’t.
That this isn’t the love story he imagined for himself.
“I’m happy you’re discovering more about yourself,” Jamie tells him. “About what feels good for you.”
“There’s a ‘but,’ isn’t there?”
Jamie nods, brow pinched. “But when I said you needed to figure yourself out, I didn’t mean you needed to label your sexuality.”
“You didn’t?”
“No.”
Cautiously, Jamie’s hand grabs Jordan’s hip. He waits to see if Jordan will pull away.
Jordan doesn’t.
“I meant I wanted you to feel like yourself, always.” Jamie leans down to press their sweaty foreheads together. “Back then, I saw two different Jordans. The Jordan who had to be the best and the one who wasn’t afraid to be himself. I just wanted you to be comfortable being the second one.”
Jordan tenses from his toes to his shoulders.
He was that Jordan. Competitive. Flawless in front of everyone.
But with Jamie, he was …
Just a man watching the moon in the back of a Jeep, nacho crumbs on his shirt. A guy sitting in bed talking about his childhood nightmares. Sharing a slice of late-night pie. A boy learning to kiss. A man giving his first blow job.
He was vulnerable, himself. All because of Jamie.
“I didn’t find a label that feels good to me for you,” he admits.
Jamie’s eyes are an impossible range of colors as he stares into them.
“I did it for me,” Jordan whispers.
The left side of Jamie’s mouth climbs higher. “Good.”
“I’m learning that identity is funny and strange and, sometimes, confusing,” Jordan says in that same soft voice. “Sometimes, you know when you’re young. Sometimes, it happens later. Sometimes, never. But it’s okay to take your time.”
Jamie’s grin widens. “It definitely is.”
“I wanted to tell you because—” He curls his arms around Jamie’s back. Spreads his fingers over his knobby spine. “Because I knew it’d feel good to.”
He breathes in. Amber and oak and Jamie.
“Because I love you,” Jordan says.
When Jamie’s other hand finds the back of his neck, something flutters in Jordan’s chest. A warm, steady presence. It spreads and grows until there’s no room left in Jordan’s body for fear. For uncertainty. For loneliness.
There’s only room for one thing:
“I love you so much, Jamie Noah Peters.”
Jamie’s eyes are damp. His cheeks bruised pink. But his grin never falters.
“I’ve loved you ever since you lost to me at Mario Kart,” Jamie says, wet and choked and happy.
“You mean when you cheated?”
“I mean when you were high off your ass.”
“Which is how you cheated.”
“It’s not my fault that you—”
Jordan shuts him up by pressing a long, hungry, deep kiss to Jamie’s mouth.
It tastes like the salty waters of the Pacific. Sharp and sweet like strawberry lemonade popsicles. Soft and memorable like a first kiss.
When Jamie kisses him back, with tongue and longing and gentleness, it’s better than winning. Better than being the best at everything.
It’s like waking up from a bad dream and knowing you’re not alone. That someone’s right next to you. Without question or reason.
It’s all Jordan needs. To feel wanted and to want with that same energy. With purpose.
All he needs is Jamie Noah Peters in his arms.
In his life.
In his heart, always.