His expression softens. “You can always let go with me, Joy. I’ve got you.”
“This is starting to feel less casual to me,” I whisper against Jamie’s chest, my fingers tangled in the coarse hair there.
“It is.”
“How do you feel about that?” I bite the inside of my cheek, bracing for his answer.
He exhales in a deep rumble that I feel against my ear. “Honestly? I told myself I wouldn’t get serious with someone who was leaving. But maybe…maybe that’s not how this works.”
“What do you mean?”
“Can I ask you something?”
I nod, my eyes closed.
“At Grandpa’s Basement, you said your ex cheated.” He pauses. “I keep thinking, how could someone cheat on you? You’re brilliant. Funny. Sexy as hell. So why were you okay settling for him?”
If I were Jubilee, I’d faint from that kind of directness. Instead, I force myself to answer.
“I never really let anyone in. Not fully.” My voice is barely a whisper. “My dad left my mom with nothing after the divorce.No career, no safety net. Just bitterness. She’s happy now—remarried—but watching her, I decided love would never be the thing I relied on.”
I swallow hard. “So, the guys I dated were just…proof I was trying. Because I want a family someday. But I didn’t care enough about any of them to risk getting hurt. Even Parker. I was mad when he cheated, but I wasn’t wrecked. Because I’d never actually given him that part of me.”
Jamie’s hand stills on my arm.
“But now…” My throat tightens. “I’m realizing that’s not normal. That’s just me being afraid. And the scary part is that I don’t want to settle anymore. Which means someday I might actually get hurt.”
“I get that.” His voice is pained. “Tessa and I barely started our adult life together, and then she was just…gone. For years I thought, why would I ever put myself through that again? Why risk it?” He shifts, draping a blanket over us. “But I survived it. I can survive loss. What I can’t survive is never letting myself try again. Because I miss this. This feeling.”
“It’s scary,” I whisper.
“Terrifying,” he agrees.
But neither of us pulls away.
Silence settles over us. Comfortable, weighted with truth. Then Jamie breaks it with a question that sounds deliberately casual.
“You wanna come to Christmas? At my place?”
My heart stutters. “Yeah?”
“The girls will force you to watch them open every single present. Winnie’s gifts are always pranks. My mom will corner you and ask your entire life story. Fair warning, she’s relentless. Dad will love you if you ask about the Mariners.” He grins against my hair. “But I make a mean green bean casserole. And a wild blueberry pie that’ll ruin all other pies for you.”
“I’d love to.”
No overthinking. No hedging. Just yes.
“You hungry?” He shifts to look down at me, and I realize I love this, how we can talk about terrifying things and then slide right back into easy ones.
“Starving.”
“Come on.” He kisses along my collarbones. “I made garlic cheddar monkey bread and white bean soup. I can heat some up.”
I sit up, tugging his shirt over my head. “Do you deliver to New York?”
“No, but maybe I can visit next month. See your place.” He’s teasing, but there’s something hopeful underneath.
I laugh. “Technically, I don’t have an apartment. Still need to find one.”
