8. Jameson
Chapter eight
Jameson
Playing nine with Bryn has been so much more fun than I expected. I can’t remember the last time I truly enjoyed being out and playing. As we walk up the hill that leads from hole nine’s green to the clubhouse, I’m racking my brain for ways to ask her to casually hang out again. I don’t want more. I can’t have more, but I would like to hang out again.
“Bryn!”
We both turn, noticing the whole birthday party crew making their way to the restaurant. They are a rainbow of golf skorts and collared tops, clearly abiding by the dress code today—no hint of the chaos and rule-breaking that leaked into my room through the windows last night.
“Oh, hi, Jameson,” says Bryn’s brunette sister. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Bryn’s eyebrow rises as she says, “I told you this morning we were going to get in a quick nine.”
“Huh. Must’ve slipped my mind.” She’s giving off real cat-who-ate-the-canary vibes. “Anyway. Jameson, you should join us for brunch!”
There is a chorus of “Yes!” and “Definitely!” and somehow, despite being raised with a sister who was constantly trying to convince me to do things with her, I am no match for their sheer energy and unwillingness to take no for an answer.
I agree to tag along, mostly because I’m hungry and want to eat—it certainly has nothing to do with not being ready to say goodbye to Bryn.
We sit down, and the table orders a round of mimosas. “Oh, Jameson will take one too,” Bryn says to the waitress.
“No, that’s—” I begin.
“I’m buying, remember?”
I nod to the waitress but turn back to Bryn, saying, “You promised me whiskey. What kind of bald-faced liar are you?”
“The kind that doesn’t believe in drinking whiskey before noon. Come on, mimosas are tasty. Way better with brunch.”
We all order, the women appearing to be carb loading after their drinking last night. I glance at Bryn as she inhales the second half of her breakfast burrito. I’m eating my usual four-egg omelet, but watching Bryn devour her choice is making me hungry, and not just for food.
She splashes more Cholula onto her burrito and brings it to her lips. I follow the movement with my eyes, taking her in. She is undoubtedly beautiful. Between her smiling eyes and tanned legs, she’s got the girl-next-door look down pat. If only she had a pair of glasses on, she’d be the main character of any ’90s rom-com. And, unlike any other girl I’ve met since I joined the tour, she hasn’t once tried to kiss my ass or get me to pay for something. Except quarters.
Suddenly, she halts her progress and looks at me, crinkling her forehead.
“What?” she asks around a mouthful of sausage and egg. When I don’t reply, she turns her head fully and stares at me. “You’re staring at me.”
“You’re staring at me.”
Another eye roll. “That’s because I asked you a question. One that you still haven’t answered, in fact.”
I break my gaze away from her and glance around the table, pretending to be interested in the conversations going on around us. But my mind is focused solely on Bryn—on the way her eyes sparkle in the sunlight filtering in through the large windows, on the way her lips curve into a smile as she takes another bite.
I can’t help but feel a pull toward her, a magnetic attraction that’s been building ever since we met. Fuck. She’s the first girl I’ve ever actually enjoyed golfing with. Well, other than Lila, but she doesn’t count.
Unfortunately, I know I shouldn’t act on it. My agent and publicist would kill me if they knew I am sitting at this table full of tipsy women right now. I’m supposed to be getting my head on straight. I’m supposed to avoid dating around. Plus, Bryn said she’s leaving soon. I feel another pang in my chest, a twin to the one I felt when she mentioned leaving earlier.
Maybe I should see if she wants to hang out again before she goes. Golf again. Go back to my room and—Nope. Not even thinking about that. That is not something we can do. I’m smart enough to know that once I take that step with Bryn, I’ll never be able to go back.
Taking a deep breath, I turn my attention back to Bryn. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”
She rolls her eyes again, but there’s a hint of amusement in the action. “I asked if you were going to finish your omelet or just stare at me while I eat my burrito.”
I glance down at my half-eaten omelet. I clear my throat, feeling a wave of heat move up my neck and across my face. “I was just...” I pause, trying to figure out how to explain myself.
“Just what?” Bryn presses, her gaze intent on mine.
“It’s nothing,” I say, unsure if I should broach the subject of casually hanging out more or not.
“Come on,” she says playfully, not letting the subject go. “Is it the fact that you’ve never seen a girl eat this much in one sitting before? Because I promise I can, and have, eaten far more than this.”
Damn, she’s cute. And she has the best sense of humor now that I know what to expect. I don’t want this to be the last time I see her. Sitting this close is making it harder to deny my attraction to her.
I take a deep breath and lean closer. “One, I have a sister who could, if not keep up, at least give you a run for your money, but no.” I pause, lowering my voice to a whisper, “I was thinking how sexy you look when you eat.”
Bryn’s eyes widen for a moment, but then she laughs, a sound that’s like music to my ears. “Is that so?” she teases, reaching out to grab the hot sauce again but this time brushing against my hand in the process.
“Yeah,” I joke quietly, feeling a rush of heat spread through me. “I’ve always had a thing for women who could shove a whole burrito in their mouth. It bodes well for me.” I punctuate the suggestive comment with a wink, deciding to see where this flirting goes.
“Oh my God.” Izzy leans across her, laughing. Unfortunately, I may have forgotten we were at a table with other people.
“Did you just compare your penis to that burrito? Because both wow and just no .” She cringes. “I appreciate the level of confidence, no matter how misguided, but no woman, or man for that matter, wants that. There is such a thing as too big. And a breakfast burrito that took up an entire plate definitely falls into that category.”
Bryn glares at her sister. “Iz, mind your own damn business. We aren’t even talking about burrito dicks.”
Izzy throws her hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry for trying to prevent a potential disaster over here. I’m just looking out for your well-being.”
Bryn shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yeah, well, I think I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much.”
I lean back in my chair, grinning at the playful banter between the sisters. From a distance, they appear to be almost carbon copies of each other except for a couple of inches in height. Now that I’m next to them both, though, I notice the subtle differences. They’re both beautiful, but damn if Bryn’s ever-changing eyes and strong angles of her face do it more for me than her sister’s softer features ever could.
Bryn’s cheeks are flushed a light pink with embarrassment, but she doesn’t let it show as she turns back to me.
“I’m glad we got that cleared up,” she says, glancing down at her burrito before picking it up again and making eye contact as she takes an even larger bite. “I wouldn’t want any misunderstandings.”
“Neither would I.” I chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through my chest.
For a few moments, we eat in comfortable silence, the noise of the table fading away as I focus on Bryn.
“So, what’s the plan for the day?” she asks the table.
Her other sister, the one who doesn’t look as much like Bryn due to her shorter stature, blonde hair, and blue eyes, replies, “Golf. Our tee time is in…oh, shoot. Ten minutes.”
The women at the table all finish shoveling food and coffee into their mouths and a few start to make their way toward the doors leading to the course.
I’m not sure what to do. I know I can’t ask Bryn out, but I want to hang out with her again. How do you ask a girl you find unbelievably attractive to be friends? Do I even want that?
Four years ago, I would’ve already made my intentions with Bryn very clear. I was in it to find someone to be with forever, but I wasn’t opposed to having a bit of fun along the way. I never misled a woman into thinking they were the one for me, but I was always at least open to the possibility. My schedule rarely accommodated anything more than a date or two with a woman before one of the two of us moved on physically or emotionally.
As the final women start to leave the table, Bryn starts to stand as well. I hesitate, still unsure if I should say anything. Luckily, she beats me to it.
“Do you want to play with me—I mean—us this afternoon?” she asks, her uncertainty apparent in the way her eyes are focusing on everything but me.
I feel a surge of excitement at getting to spend more time with Bryn before I remember I have a call with my agent, and I have to get in a grueling session in the weight room today.
“I would love to, but unfortunately—”
“Oh, no worries. I get it. Two ass-kickings in one day is too many for one man to handle, anyway. Anyone would be intimidated.” She turns to leave but throws one final, half-hearted smile over her shoulder. “See ya around, Jameo.”