“I notice everyone who looks at you like …” I pause, but I don’t stop,” like only I should be looking at you.”
The surprise stays fixed on her face for a beat, before slowly melting from her expression, replaced with a grin. “None of those guys gave me the flowers.”
“Then who?” My voice is still gravel.
Her smile turns sly, and she shakes her head like there’s a joke I’m not in on. “I bought them myself.’
A furrow digs into my brow. “Huh?”
Her smile tips higher. She takes a step toward me, erasing the last of the distance between us. My muscles relax as she loops her arms around my neck. “I was just teasing you. No one bought them for me. Promise.”
Instantly, without the slightest misgiving, I believe her. Relief floods me.
“You know what?” she asks.
“What’s that?” I curl my arms around the small of her back and press her against me.
“You’re pretty hot when you get jealous.”
35
JAMIE
Carmen and I are having a chill evening in her apartment. We’ve both got our laptops on our laps. I’m finishing some simple homework assignments that I can submit online for one of my easier classes, while she’s working on her book. Every now and then, I steal a glance at her. The sight of her typing away, focus etched on her face, radiating creativity and inspiration, is so damn impressive. It’s also a hell of a turn on.
“Hey, Jamie?”
“Yeah?” I reply, lifting my eyes from my screen.
Hesitation flashes in her eyes for a moment before she says, “Do you want to take a look at my book?”
My brow lifts in surprise. “Really?”
The uncertain look swims back into her eyes. But then she nods. “I mean, if you want to. If you’re busy?—”
I toss my laptop onto her coffee table, eagerly putting aside my work. Is she kidding? Of course I want to see her book. “Not busy at all. I’d love to read it.”
“It’s just that, well, no one’s read any of it yet. I’d kind of like someone to take a look at the beginning to assure me that it’s nottotallyawful.”
“I can already guarantee it’s not.”
A tiny smile peeks through her trepidation. “Don’t go bullshitting me. Promise me you’ll be honest.”
I hold out my small finger. “Pinky promise.”
Her eyes narrow. “I don’t play about pinky promises, Jamie. So if it’s bad, you really have to tell me.”
I laugh. “Deal.”
She wraps her pinky around mine. It feels good. Really good. I need to come up with more excuses to pinky promise with Carmen.
She hands me her laptop, with the Word document scrolled back to the first page.
“Alright, I think I’m too self-conscious to just sit here while someone reads my writing, so I’m going to go do the dishes and get my laundry from my aunt’s house while you read the first chapter.”
I give her a thumbs up and then turn my attention to her writing.
By the time I finish the first sentence, I’m so sucked into the story that I don’t hear the water running, or the clatter of dishes being placed on the drying rack, or even the sound of her leaving to walk over to Cindy’s laundry room. The story, the way the characters are introduced, and the writing all grip me instantly, and I’m lost in it until I get to the end of the first chapter.
