Chapter 29
Jamie
Ryan invites me in for a beer, but when I see who else is in the living room, I get the feeling I’ve walked in on one of those moments when they talk about you, and not in the nicest way.
“Oh, shit!” Evan covers his mouth with his hand to hide a laugh. “I don’t want to miss this one.”
Okay. Now I feel like everyone already knows our little secret. Word travels too fast when the three deep throats are involved.
“Hello, Captain,” Chris greets me, spelling the words clearly.
“Hi, everyone,” I say, shifting uncomfortably. “I just gave Ryan a ride home.” I launch into a quick explanation, desperate to get out of this house. I can’t be in the same room as the Doctor without thinking about the other night.
“That idiot Ian left me stranded,” Ryan says.
“Didn’t you go to the training facility together?”
“Yeah, and we were supposed to come back together, too, but that dickhead dumped me there.”
“I see you keep pulling at your pigtails,” the Doctor observes.
I laugh.
Ryan turns to me. “Are you fucking laughing?”
“It was a good one.”
“Yeah, Dad’s a hoot,” Evan says. “But you already know that.”
Evan, worthy son of his mother and stepson of Ryan. This kid is a landmine buried deep. Sooner or later, someone’s going to step on it, and that’ll be the end.
I can’t come up with a retort. I’m too busy not looking at the Doctor, and that takes all my concentration.
“Maybe I should go,” I say to Ryan.
“Why? The party’s just getting started,” Evan replies.
The Doctor doesn’t speak. He is embarrassed, even more than I am. We are O’Connor’s game pieces, silently waiting for one player to make his move, and praying we survive.
“I have to go. I start at six a.m. tomorrow,” the Doctor finally says.
“Have you been keeping late hours with that thing?” Evan insinuates.
Check to the king.
“My things are not your business, Evan,” the Doctor tells him harshly.
“Your things, Dad, are always my business, especially when they’re so interesting,” he says, looking at me.
Checkmate.
“I’m going. Tomorrow I have practice, then the pre-match meeting, and I need to be fit and, you know… See you tomorrow, Ryan.”
I say my goodbyes to everyone, and I’m out the door in a flash. I dive into the car and drive off. My head, my body, and the craving burning inside me are all fixed on one direction.
He parks in front of the pub, and I’m out of the car before the engine dies. I hurry up after him, and he spins around as if I’ve shocked him.
“What the heck… I almost had a heart attack.”
I press him back against the car door and cradle his face in my hands.
“I had to see you. Alone.”
His face softens between my fingers.
“You waited outside my place like a stalker?”
“Like someone who was looking forward to this.”
The last word dies on his tongue. The Doctor doesn’t hesitate. He grips my jacket and yanks me closer.
Kissing the Doctor feels like coming home after a long, fucking day: craving the quiet of your own bed, but just as fiercely, aching for someone who’s been waiting for you — hungry and demanding, with no intention of letting you rest.
I press my chest against his as he slides one hand behind the back of my neck. It’s warm and anxious, just like him.
I bite his lips, and he bites mine. My determination does not intimidate him; on the contrary, it challenges him to show his own.
And I like it. I like it so damn much.
“I won’t let you in,” he sighs against my mouth.
I’m not offended. I can feel how much he wants me — his body is practically calling out to me. But I also realise it would be too impulsive, and that neither of us might be able to handle this absurd situation much longer.
“Are you trying to preserve your virtue?” I tease, softening the moment to show him it’s okay. I came here for one thing — to kiss him. Ever since I saw him at Ryan’s house, I haven’t stopped thinking about his mouth on mine.
“It is becoming a tough job,” he comments, smiling.
“And I intend to make that impossible,” I tell him, catching his lower lip between my teeth.“You’d better know.”
“I guessed as much.”
“I want to see you. Alone.”
“I want that too.”
I sigh and step back from him before I lose the will to. “Soon.”
He nods.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I’m counting on it.”
I turn and walk back to my car, my heart racing, as if each beat carves out a space in my chest that only he can fill.