Chapter 15 #2
“I think you missed your window for driving home,” I tell him.
In my peripheral vision I see him look over at me but I continue looking out the window, trying not to freak out at the thought of him spending the night here.
“Let’s not pretend,” he says from beside me, “that there was ever a chance of me going home tonight.”
My stomach erupts into a full-out riot of butterflies.
I’d been so busy enjoying having him here that I hadn’t really been thinking about how he’d get home in this weather.
But in the back of my mind, I must have realized that I’d barely gotten home before the roads were impassable, and that was hours ago.
But neither of my guest bedrooms have furniture in them—the only bed is in my bedroom.
“There’s no way,” he continues, beside me, “that I’d leave you here alone to clear all this snow tomorrow. Do you even have a snowblower?”
He’s staying because he knows there’s no way I can deal with this much snow by myself with two kids to watch also. This is what friends do for each other. And someday, when he needs a friend, I hope to be able to return all these favors.
“Yeah, I bought one when I moved in.” We’ve had a mild winter until now. It’s snowed an inch or two here or there, but then it always got warm enough to melt it right away so the snowblower hasn’t been needed.
“Ever used one?”
“No, but I read the manual.” Back in Park City, Josh always took care of snow blowing when he was home, and if there was a storm and he wasn’t home, he had a landscaping company that would come by and plow our driveway and take care of our walkway—a service I continued to use until we moved.
I suddenly feel entirely incapable. Like, how am I an adult who has always lived somewhere with snow, and I have no idea how to operate a snowblower? I’m afraid that Jameson is going to ask the same question, but all he says is “It’s not that hard. I’ll show you tomorrow.”
I turn toward him. “Thank you—for being here with Ivy and Iris today, for cooking dinner, helping me clear the snow tomorrow. I . . . I feel like I’m taking advantage of your generosity.”
He fully turns toward me, puts his hands on my hips, pulls me a step closer to him, and stares down at me with a look that’s some combination of fondness and lust.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Lauren.” He leans down and kisses my forehead, just like he did last weekend when he told me I wasn’t ready.
But ready for what? I want this man, and he wants me. Is he waiting for me to be strong enough—mentally and emotionally—that a one-night stand wouldn’t absolutely wreck me? Because I’m not sure I’ll ever be in that place.
I lean forward, resting my forehead on his sternum like I did this at the ice rink when he helped me overcome one of my biggest fears. He’s been such a solid, steadying presence for me these past few months—I’ve come to depend on him, and his friendship, maybe more than is healthy.
“The only thing about you staying here tonight is that I don’t have another bed to offer you—”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” His voice is insistent, his words final. He’s not looking to share my bed with me tonight, which is both a relief and a disappointment.
While I’ve certainly spent plenty of time lately thinking about Jameson in my bed, it’s always been part of a fantasy—I’ve never allowed myself to believe that it might actually happen. It shouldn’t happen. It can’t.
“Why don’t you take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. I’m much smaller than you, so it’ll probably be more comfortable for me.”
“I’m fine with the couch. So what do you normally do once the girls go to bed?”
I pull back and look up at him. “Clean up? Read? Watch TV? Catch up with my friends?” Man, my life sounds boring.
“Well, we’ve already cleaned up, and it’s only”—he lifts his wrist and glances at his watch—“eight o’clock. You want to watch a movie or something?”
We settle into the couch and decide on a movie, and we’re about fifteen minutes into a rom-com I can’t believe I convinced him to watch when Petra’s text comes through.
Petra
Hey, Morgan and Paige are staying with me because all flights into Boston were canceled. How are you doing with your first big snowstorm?
I glance over at Jameson, who’s still focused on the TV, and then back down at my phone. Holding it in one hand on the opposite side of my body, and hoping he can’t see my screen, I type with my thumb to respond.
Lauren
Doing okay. Jameson’s here.
Petra
?!?!
Lauren
My nanny went home early. He watched the girls and made dinner. Now we’re snowed in.
Petra
Morgan, Paige, and I are all jumping around right now, and Aleksandr is looking at us like we’re annoying him.
I laugh out loud, imagining the scene, and Jameson’s head snaps over, looking at me. “Sorry, it’s just Petra texting me right now.” Go back to watching the movie so I can tell my friend about you being here.
Petra
Please tell me you’re planning to sleep with him?
I flip my phone facedown on the couch, praying he wasn’t looking at the screen in my hand when that message came through. But his small snort is proof that he did see it. He lifts his arm, putting it around my shoulders and pulling me to his side. “Tell her it’s none of her damn business.”
My shoulders shake with laughter. “That’s only going to rile her up more.”
“Whatever,” he says, and I can feel him shrug.
Lauren
Jameson says it’s none of your damn business ;-)
Petra
Holy shit!!! Girl . . . DO IT!
Lauren
I’m leaving this conversation now . . .
Petra
Which means it’s going to happen. Eeeeeeeeeeeee!
Lauren
Good night . . .
“Now who’s riling her up?” Jameson asks, letting out a chuckle. The feel of his warm breath across the top of my head has goose bumps rising all over my body, and reality sets in. I want this man.
But I can’t have him. Or rather, I could, for a night. But how could we go back to just friends after that? We couldn’t. And I’m not willing to lose the friendship, even though I suspect the sex would be amazing.
“Put the phone down,” he says.
“Now? When they’re all sitting around speculating whether we’re too busy having sex to respond?”
“Let them wonder,” he says, and he uses the hand that’s wrapped around me to grab my phone and toss it to the far end of the couch. Then he tugs me tighter against his side and says, “Now watch the damn movie and stop thinking about having sex with me.”