Chapter 20
Jameson
“I’m sorry about the joints,” Sam whispers. “I—”
“Don’t,” I tell her. “It’s fine.”
“Is he gonna give you shit?”
I shake my head. “That was probably it,” I answer, although I’m not sure if that’s the truth.
“I didn’t know there were cameras. I should have thought … I just … I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
“It’s all right, really.”
She nods, but still looks nervous.
“Do you wanna go to my room?” I ask, wanting to get her out of here in case my old man comes back.
“Sure,” she says, some of the tension leaving her.
I stand and take her hand, leading her down the hall.
The door to my room clicks shut behind me as I watch Sam’s eyes roam around the space.
She looks back at me before taking a step forward and walking over to the desk I have crammed between my dresser and bed. She trails her hand over the surface before picking up a picture that’s leaning against the wall. She turns to me, a smile pulling at her lips. “You and Billy?”
I nod.
“How old were you guys?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, maybe five.”
She sets the photo down, and I come up behind her, peering over her shoulder.
“You were cute,” she murmurs.
I snort.
She leans into me, tilting her head up so her eyes meet mine. “What?”
“Just don’t think anyone’s ever called me cute before.”
“Well, you were.” She moves to the stack of DVDs I have balanced on the corner of the desk. “Who uses DVDs anymore?” she teases.
“It helps me sleep.”
She glances around, looking for a TV.
“I, uh … I have a DVD player that I use.”
She doesn’t say anything; instead, she starts sorting through the pile. “I haven’t seen any of these.”
“We could watch one,” I offer hesitantly. Why am I so fucking nervous? This whole night has just put me on edge.
“Like, right now?” she asks.
“Only if you want to.”
She seems wary, and it only makes me more nervous.
I asked her if she was all right when we left the table, and she said she was, but maybe she was only saying that to make me feel better. Maybe she just feels sorry for me. For my fucked-up life. Maybe it’s all too much for her. Maybe I’m too much for her.
“I get it if you don’t want to,” I say, my voice coming out colder than I meant it to.
Her body goes stiff against mine before she turns. “What was that?”
“What?”
“That fuck you voice.”
“I didn’t use a fuck you voice.”
Maybe I did.
“Uh, yeah, you did.” She folds her arms over her chest. “You know you did.”
“You just don’t have to do me any favors, that’s all.”
“Favors?”
“Yeah, favors.” I take a step back, needing the space. “You don’t have to stick around ’cause you …”
She leans forward. “’Cause I what?”
“Pity me.”
“You think I’m here because I pity you?”
God, everything in my head right now is all fucked up. I’ve never brought a girl home. I’ve never brought anyone except Billy home.
“I don’t—”
“Why would you think that?”
I run a hand through my hair like it’ll erase her question. Erase the skin-crawling feeling I’m getting talking about this.
“I don’t know.” I blow out a breath. “It’s just … I would understand if you wanna leave after that dinner.”
“None of that was your fault,” she says. “If anything, it made me want to stay even more.”
I throw out a hand. “Because you feel bad for me.”
“No, Jameson.” She takes a step forward. “Because even after that shit, after all he puts you through, you’re still you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re not him,” she says, and her words cut through me. “You’ll never be him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“His shit has a way of bleeding into people,” I say. “You don’t know the stuff I’ve done.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She takes another step forward, and I take one back. “I know you.”
“But you don’t,” I tell her. “Not really.”
“Then tell me.”
“What?”
“Tell me who you are.” She takes another step forward, closing the distance I put between us. “You’re not gonna scare me away.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Stop telling me what I do and don’t know,” she demands. “And stop telling me what I should want.”
“I’m not trying to—”
“If I don’t want to be with you, I won’t.” She takes another step forward, forcing me back. “If I want to leave, I will.” My back hits the wall. “But until I tell you I want out, stop trying to push me away.”
I stare down at her, my jaw working. “Okay.”
She pulls her head back. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning in, closing the inch that separates us. “I hear you.”
“Well”—she straightens—“good, then.”
I bring my hands to her waist. “You’re bossy, you know that?” I tighten my grip on her, spinning us so now it’s her back that’s against the wall. “I kinda like it when you get mean.”
“Then do something about it,” she whispers.
I bring my hand up to her neck, angling her head to give me access to her lips, hovering over them until I feel her squirm.
“I never told you,” she breathes against my mouth. “Last night … with you …”
“Hmm?” I prompt, sliding my other hand up her body.
“That was my first kiss.”
I stare back at her. “You’ve never kissed anyone before?”
She shakes her head. “That surprises you?” Her eyes cloud with something I don’t like. “It’s not like I’m a sl—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I growl. “That’s not what I was thinking.” I make my voice softer. “That was never what I was thinking.”
She doesn’t look convinced, and I want to find anyone who’s ever called her that and teach them what’ll happen if they call her that again. “I just can’t believe I’m the first person who you’ve let kiss you.”
She bites her lower lip. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while.”
“Oh yeah?”
She nods.
“Well,” I tell her, “I’ve never kissed anyone before you, either.”
“Really?” she blurts out.
I smirk. “See? You’re surprised, too.”
“It’s just that you’re”—she waves a hand—“you’re …”
“I’m what?”
“You.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on,” she huffs. “Don’t pretend you don’t know how girls talk about you.”
“So?”
“So …” She arches back. “You could probably have any girl you want at school.”
“And you could probably have any guy,” I counter. “I’m sure there’s not one guy at school who wouldn’t want to kiss you.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to kiss them.”
“And just because girls want me, doesn’t mean I want them back. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t really like other people.”
“But you like me?”
I laugh. “I think that’s pretty fucking clear.”
“Then do it again?”
“Hmm?”
“Kiss me,” she says. “Stop teasing and kiss me again.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I bring my lips to hers, not nearly as gentle as I was the first time. She lifts her hands to my hair and pulls as I press her up against the wall.
Lost.
I’m completely fucking lost in this girl.
The room around me disappears, but I'm quickly jolted back to reality by three loud knocks on the door. “Johnny’s here,” my father shouts. “Get out here.”
“He’s early.” Sam’s wide eyes find mine. “Why’s he early?”
“I don’t know, but I really fucking wish he wasn’t.”
“Me, too,” she says. “I wish I could stay and watch that movie with you”—she looks over at the door—“but I should really get out there.”
Reluctantly, I nod.
She steps back, but I grab her wrist.
“Hold on.”
“My brother …” she starts.
“I have something for you.” I go to my closet and reach for the brown paper bag I put there a few days ago. “Here,” I say, holding it out to her.
She glances at me skeptically as she takes it and pulls a cell phone out. Her eyes flick up to meet mine. “You got me a phone?”
“Well, you don’t have one, and”—I watch as she turns it over in her hands—“I wanted a way to be able to talk to you and a way for you to reach out if you ever need me. Or your brother,” I tack on. “You can always call your brother with it.”
“I don’t …” She shakes her head. “This is too much.”
“There are some cards in the bag with minutes,” I tell her, moving right past what she said. “Just let me know when they run out, and I’ll get you more.”
“You don’t have to …” She puts the phone back in the bag. “You don’t have to buy me things. I’m not with you because—”
“I know.”
“So, then why—”
“It’s more for me than it is for you, anyway.”
Her brows furrow. “How’s that?”
“Now I can talk to you whenever I want.”
I watch as a smile lights up her face.
“And I won’t have to worry about you as much.”
She tilts her head. “You worry about me?”
I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, all the time.” If she only knew.
“Well, thank you.” She folds the top of the bag, tucking it under her arm. “Really.”
“Anything,” I say, the word falling easily from my lips.
“Hmm?”
“Anything for you.”
Her face shifts, and she stares back at me with this look. Like I matter. Like I mean something to her.
I rush on, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “My number’s on a piece of paper in the bag.”
She glances down at it.
“I put Billy’s in there, too.”
She opens her mouth to respond then snaps it shut when my father yells from down the hall, “I’m not telling you again, boy!”
I stride past Sam so I can walk out first, turning to make sure she’s following me, and when I push open the door, I’m relieved to find the hallway empty.
Voices filter into the space as I grab Sam’s hand and guide her back into the kitchen.
We round the corner, and her brother’s gaze immediately finds hers.
He looks from her to me then back to her again, his attention briefly catching on our intertwined hands.
Johnny doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tilts his head to the side, and Sam quickly nods in response.
My father watches them curiously before turning to Johnny. “Thirty minutes,” he states.
“Just gotta drop her home and grab the bag.”
My father looks over at me. “You’re with us.”
Sam tenses beside me, her grip on my hand growing tighter.
My old man tracks the movement. “Sweetheart,” he condescends, “you’ve gotta let him go.”
She doesn’t.
He takes a step forward, and the second he does, so does Johnny.
“Sam,” her brother says, the word a warning.
Her hand drops from mine before she goes to her brother.
Johnny shifts so he’s between her and my father. “Thanks for having her,” he offers. He holds out his hand, and my father takes it, shaking it roughly.
Johnny gives Sam a look that has her stepping forward, glancing from my father to my mother. “Thank you for dinner,” she mutters.
“Anytime,” my mother answers before pulling Sam into a hug.
Sam goes still, her arms slack at her sides.
“All right,” Johnny interrupts. “We should go.”
My mother backs up. “Let me know about shopping.”
Johnny takes in the two of them, confusion etched into his face.
“I’ll walk them out,” I offer, looking to my father for permission, which I get in the form of a grunt.
Sam and Johnny come up beside me, and I lead them out through the living room to the front door. When we get to the porch, Sam stops, and because she does, so does Johnny.
He looks down at her. “What?”
“Can you … you know?” She waves a hand. “Leave us alone for a minute?”
“Why?”
She groans. “I want to say goodbye and don’t want my brother standing over my shoulder.”
“Fine,” Johnny relents. “But I’ll be right over there.” He points at me before leaving. “You remember what I told you, right?”
“Don’t think I could forget a threat like that,” I mutter.
“What threat?” Sam asks.
“Nothing,” Johnny and I say at the same time.
She puts her hands on her hips. “What threat, Johnny?”
“Just reminded him what the consequences would be if anything happens to you,” Johnny responds. “What would happen if he hurt you.”
“He won’t,” Sam says firmly.
Johnny ruffles her hair. “Relax, Bug. I’m just doing my job.”
She swats his hand away, smoothing down the strands he just messed up. “Which is?”
“Making sure you’re taken care of.” Before she can respond, he turns and starts down the front lawn. “Say goodbye quick,” he throws over his shoulder. “I’ve gotta get back.”
Sam turns, looking up at me. “What’d he say to you?”
I start to answer nothing, but she cuts me off.
“And don’t say nothing.”
I let out a short laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s weird how well you know me.”
“I thought you said I didn’t know you,” she replies, throwing my words back at me. “Not really.”
I hesitate. “You know what I meant.”
“I can’t know that part of you if you don’t let me.”
I take a step closer to her, wrapping my arms around her waist. “I’m trying.”
“Well,” she says, “you can start by telling me what my brother said to you.”
I shake my head, grinning. “Fine.”
She softens in my hold.
“He said that he doesn’t care who my old man is, if anything happens to you, death will look good compared to what he’ll do to me.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Your brother’s a scary dude.”
She glances at him, where he's parked in the driveway. “I should go.” Her teeth graze her bottom lip. “I’ll call you.”
She takes a step back, but I reach out and take her hand, pulling her into me. She tilts her head up, and I bring my lips to hers. I only mean for it to be a quick kiss, but I can’t seem to pull away.
The sound of a horn blaring makes my head jerk away from hers. She turns with a laugh, throwing her middle finger in her brother’s directions.
“Okay, I’ve really gotta go now,” she says, stepping up onto her tiptoes. She sweeps her lips over mine so fast I barely register it and whispers, “See ya, Jamie.”