Jamie’s gray eyes bore into me. “Yeah, we do.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “Okay. I’m fine with that.” A beat passed. “Getting back to my earlier point, your compassion definitely got through to me. It’s something I thought about quite often when I was in rehab.” His face flickered with something vulnerable, and he turned toward the ocean.
My heart was beating loudly in my chest. Was it possible that I’d really helped him? I still didn’t feel like I’d done much, but the thought of contributing to his eventual recovery, even in a small way, made me feel strangely optimistic. It was amazing to see how he’d turned his life around. If I’d managed to help him without even trying, what could I do for other people if I put my mind to it? Curiosity bloomed inside of me, and I made a note to come back to this idea later.
“So what are you doing these days?” I asked.
“Mostly trying to stay sober,” he said, picking at the last of his salad. “But I’ve discovered that I’m best able to do that when I stay busy. So I work out, I meditate, I cook a lot, and most recently, I’ve been trying to write some music. Just acoustic stuff, as far from Ritual Disruption’s sound as you can imagine. It’s been good to get back into it.”
I nibbled on my lip. Oliver had told me that he wrote all of Ritual Disruption’s music. Was Jamie implying otherwise? Since we’d agreed not to talk about him, I let it go.
“Sounds like you have a very healthy lifestyle,” I said. “You’re definitely doing much better than me in that department. I haven’t used my gym membership once since the semester started, and I’m embarrassed to admit that I eat mac and cheese from a box multiple times a week. Don’t let this rice bowl fool you.”
He raked his gaze over my body so quickly I nearly missed it. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re young. When you get old, like me, that’s when you really need to work at it.”
Old? I was pretty sure Jamie was thirty. No one in their right mind would call him old.
“Plus,” he continued. “I gotta make up for the beating my body took from all the touring and partying and… Damn it.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and placed his fork down. “Sometimes, I think it’s impossible for me to have a conversation without bringing up my past. You must think I’m a broken record.”
I smiled, amused by his self-deprecating tone. “It doesn’t bother me. But if it bothers you, we can play a game. Every time you talk about anything that happened prior to your recovery, you have to—” my gaze landed on the ketchup bottle on the table, “—eat a spoonful of ketchup.”
He wrinkled his face in disgust. “Wow. That’s a cruel and unusual punishment.”
“Well, it has to be motivating,” I quipped.
“Oh, I’m motivated all right,” he said, leveling me with a teasing smile.
My gut exploded with butterflies. His gaze dropped to my lips, just the way it had in his car, and suddenly, I was pulsing between my legs. This was so bad.
“You said you meditate?” I said a little too breathlessly. “Tell me about it.”
His smile returned, and he began telling me about a new type of meditation he’d been practicing. The conversation flowed with surprising ease. We talked and talked until our plates sat empty and the water glasses had been refilled twice. The sun was blinking from beyond the clouds that had at last broken the unbearable heat of the past week. I couldn’t recall the last time I had talked like this with someone I didn’t know well. Normally, I’d still be navigating awkward small talk and wishing for it to end.
When the check came, something suspiciously akin to disappointment washed over me. I was so unnerved by it, I missed my chance to argue about the bill before the waitress quickly returned and Jamie handed her his card.
“I was the one who asked you to come out. I should have gotten it,” I mumbled.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, putting his card back in his wallet and standing up.
My gaze trailed his form, noting the perfect fit of his dark jeans and the way they flattered his toned butt. He looked at me expectantly, probably wondering why I hadn’t gotten up, and I forced myself to stop checking him out.
I didn’t anticipate I would enjoy the lunch this much.
When we got down to the exit, words left my mouth before I could stop myself. “Can I at least get you some ice cream?”
JAMIE
I held the door open for Ivy as we left the Saratoga and headed toward the boardwalk. Given that it was Monday, the area wasn’t busy with tourists or locals. We walked side by side, occasionally stealing glances at each other. I felt oddly exposed under Ivy’s gaze. Well, maybe it wasn’t so odd, given how much I’d spilled to her in the restaurant.
I wanted her to see how I’d changed from the man she remembered. The night at the club had given me an opening, and now that we were together again, I wanted to bring that point home. Why did I care so much about what she thought of me? Despite the surprising invitation to prolong our meeting, I knew better than to assume I’d see her again after we went our separate ways. Maybe that was the appeal? I’d gotten another chance to clear things up between us, and at this point, I had nothing to lose.
We made our way onto the boardwalk, and Ivy turned to look in both directions. “I think I remember a tiny ice cream shop if we walk a little to the right,” she said.
“Sounds good.”
While she was distracted searching for the shop, I studied her profile. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail today—the purple streaks only just peeking out—and I was drawn to her neck. Its creamy skin was lighter than the tan glowing over her arms and legs, and I wondered how it would feel to press my lips just under her ear. My mouth had been so close to that exact spot when we were dancing together.
Stop ogling her, my conscience chastised. But it was so hard to tear my gaze away. She wore a pair of short Daisy Dukes, showing off her unbelievable legs, and a simple white T-shirt stretched tight around her breasts. They were modest, which is probably why she wasn’t wearing a bra, but I could see the outline of her nipples, and fuck if I didn’t want to peel back that shirt and wrap my lips around one.
This is precisely why I had to set up that online dating profile and get my mind off Ivy, stat. I let out a long, strained breath and forced my attention to the ever-colorful residents of Venice Beach moving past us.
