The Studying Hours (How to Date a Douchebag #1)(85)

“You’re going to be with me in March, so what do I care if I go anywhere.” I shrug. That’s what we decided when we booked this trip: we’d spend the Thanksgiving holiday in Utah with my family, then stay home and work through spring break to save up money for an apartment. We plan on living together the rest of our senior year—as soon as we have enough money for a deposit. “Relax. You have nothing to be nervous about.”

I watch as she nibbles the nail of her thumb nervously. “I’m anxious about meeting your parents.”

“Babe, they’re going to love you. And you’ve already texted with Kayla a bunch of times—she thinks you’re the shit.”

“Right, but moms are different.”

Her concern has me dipping down to kiss her mouth. “Stop worrying. We’re going to have a blast. And aren’t you glad we have enough snow this early in the season to do some boarding, lift tickets compliments of Zeke Daniels and his five hundred bucks?”

That perks her up.

“Heck yes. So glad he finally paid you.” Jameson unzips her purple suitcase to retrieve her snow pants and jacket, hanging them inside the small closet. “I’m ready to take on the mountain.”

I dig mine out and they join hers. “Can you at least pretend to wait for me as I creep down the hill behind you?”

“We’ll see. Try to keep up and we won’t have a problem, will we old man?” With a cocky, confident flick of her hand, James gives her hair a toss.

“It’s fine; I love watching you—especially your ass from behind.”

“Same.” She walks into the bathroom to plunk her toiletries on the counter. “I’m exhausted from the drive. Let’s watch a movie and go to bed.”

“Good idea. We should take advantage of tonight before my family gets here in the morning, because once they do, you’ll be rooming with Kayla and I’ll be camping out on my parent’s floor.”

“You’re always trying to take advantage.” The laugh comes from around her toothbrush.

I join her in the bathroom, stepping close so my hands can roam up her sides, burying my nose in the crook of her neck as she brushes her teeth. “I don’t have to try very hard, do I?”

“Oh please, I can totally resist you. Remember that day you decided not to wear pants in a desperate attempt to get me to seduce you?” She removes the toothbrush and taps her chin as she recollects. “It was a useless attempt to reverse psychology me, but I lasted the entire day without jumping your bones. I practically had super powers.”

“Whatever. That didn’t count because you took off your pants as a counter attack, which didn’t work. Ended up screwing anyway.”

She sighs, toothpaste dripping form the corner of her mouth. “At least we gave it the old college try.”

“We sure did.”





My heart is pounding a million miles a minute, pounding like it’s never pounded before. Not even when I was introduced to the scout for the Olympic wrestling team last semester. Not when I told him no, I wasn’t going to be advancing my wrestling career and joining the team.

I was done. Mind was made up.

I plan to intern for a law firm in my hometown next summer with the hopes of getting a job in their human resources department. Then I’m going to buy a house with Jameson and we’re going to live together, get married, and make cardigan-wearing babies.

I crack open the black velvet ring box, drop to one knee, and present it to her, lid open. Jameson’s blue eyes widen, hands flying to her mouth in astonished surprise. “Sebastian.” She breathes. “It’s beautiful.”

It doesn’t escape my notice that she hasn’t reached for the ring.

“Jameson Victoria Clark. Will you marry me?”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Say yes.” I laugh, as if there isn’t anything to discuss and this is a done deal. “Have I shocked the shit out of you? Why aren’t you saying yes?”

“I can’t,” she whispers, her breath leaving her body in short puffs. The air turns frigid cold and steam rises from our mouths. “I can’t marry you.”

Can’t marry me? What the ever-loving f*ck.

“Can’t?” I snap the ring box closed. “Or won’t.”

Her head gives a tiny, almost imperceptible shake. “Can’t. Won’t.”

“Why?” I demand. “Why won’t you marry me?”

“You don’t even know me Sebastian.”

I fumble to my feet, reaching for her. “Baby, please. What do you mean I don’t know you? You’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine…”

“Then why aren’t you saying yes?” I repeat, voice cracking. “I tell you everything; you know things even my parents and sister don’t know. Things I’ve never told the guys, or my coaches.” I suck in a breath. “James, I…I…”

The three little words I’ve never said to her get lodged in my throat, choking me, making me hesitate.

Jameson pulls away, her eyebrows going up. She glowers. “See? Right there. That’s the reason I can’t marry you.”

“Big deal. It’s only been seven months. Lots of people don’t say the L word after only a few months.”