Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Forever isn't always an option
But right now is
I hadn't seen Jamie in five years until a month ago, when a knock on my door obliterated the life I had built and the life I thought I was going to have.
Before that day, I was doing great. I had graduated from college with an English degree, although I had no idea what to do with it.
I got a job as an assistant at a law firm, where I spent eleven hours a day making coffee for wealthy lawyers who were destroying the world.
And I had a sexy-ass boyfriend named Mark …
who was also sort of my boss and was sleeping with a girl in HR.
But really, I was doing great.
I was sitting on my uncomfortable bed, trying to take off a pair of red stilettos that matched the red blood dripping from the blister on my toes.
My injuries were caused by spending four hours on my feet at a mind-numbing wedding rehearsal for Mark's sister, even though he ditched me at the last minute.
With numb, stinging feet, I hobbled to the kitchen to eat the leftovers I stole from the hors d'oeuvres table. As I stared down at my plate covered with food that may or may not have led to a nasty case of food poisoning, I’d be lying if I said my life was looking promising.
But everyone struggles in their twenties, right?
Everyone receives a text from their boyfriend saying he has to work late with Karen, the HR manager, on a case over wine and pasta at 9:00 p.m. And everyone lives with no lights, A/C, and a fridge containing two apples and half a sandwich they stole from someone's desk, right?
Please tell me I'm right …
Just as I was about to flip a coin to decide whether to eat a piece of cheese that twenty other people had touched, there was a tap at my door. The knock started with some force, but then it abruptly stopped, as if the person's knuckles hitting the wood had scared them into silence.
I stretched my arms behind me, contemplating whether to answer or to pretend not to be home and hide.
The person knocked again, but this time with an even more confident pounding.
I huffed at the intrusion and shuffled my bare feet to the door, reaching my hand out to turn the cold brass door handle.
“If that’s you, Mark, you better be here to apologize—” It wasn’t Mark.
My words stuck in my throat as my eyes were shocked by the sight of Jamie's face.
He looked older. Good. Sexy. He was all grown up.
His chiseled features and tanned complexion gave him a more refined and confident look.
His hair, now shorter on the sides, was still long and tousled on top.
His shoulders had broadened considerably, and the fabric of his shirt stretched taut over his well-defined arms; he certainly wasn't the same wiry teenager he had been in high school.
Despite all these changes, he still retained his sweet, captivating smile that always left me mesmerized.
Snap out of it! I yelled at my champaign-soaked brain, regretting the third glass right now.
“Hey, Alex.” I'm sure it was my imagination, but even his voice seemed older, as if it had grown rougher.
He just stood there, his hands in his pockets, waiting for my lips to move and for my voice to string out a sentence.
The boy who had once been my everything was now a stranger standing before me, a ghost of the past I begged my soul to banish.
“Jamie.” The word slipped out of my mouth in a single breath. I blinked hard and gripped the door frame to steady myself. “What are you doing here?”
He lightly stepped forward as if testing the waters and the tension between us.
When I didn't make a move, his gaze fluttered for a moment, a quick flicker of vulnerability betraying the light smirk he wore just a few seconds ago.
“I wanted to see you,” he admitted, his words hanging fragile in the air like a string made of glass.
“I needed to see you.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Every cell upon my skin begged me to reach out and touch him, to prove he was real, that this wasn’t some cruel trick of my longing-starved mind.
To rejoin the shards of our past, to make myself whole again with the warmth of his arms around me.
But the ghost of what we once had kept me frozen.
Instead, I wrapped my arms around myself, creating a shield against the flood of emotions that threatened to crumble the cage I had built for Jamie's memory.
“Well, you've seen me,” I replied. “Was there something else you wanted?”
Jamie's jaw tightened, and his gaze flickered with a mix of hurt and acceptance.
He took a small step back, his shoulders stiff like he had braced himself for this conversation 100 times in his head.
My heart hammered in my chest as I watched him retreat, a slight pang of regret gnawing at my insides like a feral cat.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, like a promise. If I wanted him to walk away and never return, he would respect my wishes and vanish again.
“… no.” My whisper was so desperate that it made my chest shudder. “Come in.” I moved back, allowing Jamie to pass through the threshold and into my combined kitchen, living room, and bedroom.
Jamie moved about five feet in, his eyes roaming the walls as if they would tell the story of my life these past years. “So, how have you been?” This was awkward as hell, but at least it was better than asking about the weather.
“I’ve been …” I tried to think of something borderline braggy to say, something that would show Jamie how well I was doing on my own, but that would mean I needed something actually to brag about, and with just one look at my apartment, anyone would know I didn’t have anything to be boastful of.
“Great. I’ve been great. Got a job at this cool law office.
” I thought that adding the word “cool” would make “law office” sound less depressing.
Jamie looked puzzled. “Do you want to be a lawyer?” This earth-shattering idea was about to knock Jamie off his feet.
“No!” I spoke louder and faster than I intended. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being a lawyer, but four more years of college just isn’t for me.” Nice recovery. “I’m working there until writing starts paying the bills.”
Jamie stood a bit closer to me. “And how long has that been?”
“A few years …” I know where he was going with this.
“And what have you written during that time?” He quizzed me like one of my old English professors.
I shot my hands to my hips. “Hey, you don’t get to show up at my doorstep with your cute smart-ass grin and accusatory tone and assume I'm going to answer your questions,” I jabbed back at him.
He stepped forward. His face was so close to mine that I could feel the steam of his breath on my cheeks. “You still think I’m cute.” His smile was dripping with arrogance, making my blood boil and my skin shiver.
I was practically panting as my eyes lingered on his lips. “Maybe. But I also think you're a smart-ass.”
He swiftly placed his hands on my hips and pulled me into him, our bodies connecting like two magnets. “So, nothing changed.”
Those three words made the last shred of my restraint shatter like glass.
Without a word or a witty comeback, I crashed my lips into his.
It was anything but gentle: it was raw, angry, passionate, and filled with an urgency that bordered on desperation.
Our lips moved hungrily against each other as if trying to consume every ounce of longing and regret that had lingered between us since we parted.
My fingers tangled in the back of Jamie's hair as I pulled him closer, desperately trying to get my body to melt deeper into his.
My movements were erratic, burning with a fever, veering into madness.
We gripped each other so tightly, our hands moving desperately over every inch of skin, that I feared we would leave a trail of bruises in our wake.
We were two halves of the same broken soul, finally reunited after years of wandering in the darkness.
Suddenly, Jamie stopped. His breath hovered above my lips. “Alex,” his voice was breathy and low as if he feared the thoughts about to slip out of his mouth.
I didn’t want to talk anymore. I didn’t want to think anymore. I wanted to forget and feel his body on top of mine. I didn’t wish for the past or the future. I wanted now.
I grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down to my level. “Just fuck me already.”
Jamie's teeth grazed his lower lip as the corners of his mouth curled in a grin that sent quivers down my already wet thighs. “Yes, ma’am,” he smirked.
Our lips crashed together hard in a desperate kiss that tasted like anger, passion, and
need. Fuck, I need him. I needed every inch of him.
He slid his hand from my arms to my waist, pulling me closer.
I felt the cool edge of the counter push against my back, but I didn't care.
All that mattered was the feeling of Jamie's body pressed into mine, the way his hands moved over my figure as if he couldn't get enough; they roamed up and down my thighs, gripping my ass, his nails almost tearing the fabric of my dress.
There was a deep groan from Jamie's chest, then his hands moved to my hips and thrust me effortlessly onto the counter.
The cold surface sent a shiver down my torso to my cheeks, but the heat of his touch quickly extinguished it as he gripped the hem of my dress and yanked it upwards until my bare thighs were exposed.
His thumbs suddenly trailed down my inner legs; just the damn anticipation of his fingers dancing toward my clit made my body quiver with a begging pulse.
“I’d tell you to beg, but it looks like your body already is.” He snickered against my lips, his breath hot and heavy.
“Screw you.” I tugged on the base of his hair and bit his bottom lip.
“You’re about to,” he whispered into my neck. I could feel his smile on my skin.