Heat Stroke (Beach Kingdom, #2)(22)

Jamie shifted. “I didn’t say that—” He cut himself off when he noticed the impish light in Jiya’s dark eyes. “What psychology is this?”

“Ooh, I don’t know. I should stay out of it, but I kind of have a soft spot for the big golden retriever.”

“How dare you. Keep going.”

“Every time I walk past the Castle Gate on my way to work, he waves at me from the door and tells me what kind of mood the Prince brothers are in. Like it’s the weather forecast. ‘Rory is brooding with a side of sarcasm’ or ‘Andrew is all business, Jiya. All business.’”

“He does that?” Despite himself, Jamie felt his mouth edge up into a smile. “What does he say about me?”

“It’s more about the way he says it. Really, I can’t believe I didn’t see what was right in front of me,” said Jiya. “He says, ‘Jamie is constant.’ But he says it like he’s talking about baby Jesus.”

Jamie tipped back his head and exhaled long and hard up at the ceiling. He wasn’t constant last night. Marcus trusted him and he should have known to walk away.

“Take that with a grain of salt, though,” she says breezily. “He also says he wishes our family restaurant served Italian food so he could come get a slice of pizza.”

“Christ.”

As if speaking about food had made it appear, the waitress showed up at the side of the table and set down Jiya’s salad. Jamie was still inhaling the fragrant steam coming off his curry when Jiya stuck her fork in and got busy, ignoring her salad as promised.

“Isn’t your mother going to give you hell over wasting a salad?”

“No, thank goodness. It might be hard to believe considering she just called me a choking land bird, but she’s actually trying to get on my good side today.”

Jamie took a bite of his chicken, sighing as the familiar flavors of tomato, onion, garlic and coriander invaded his mouth. “Why?”

Jiya shot some side eye toward the back of the restaurant. “My mother’s friends are in town. And they’re not here to soak up the Long Beach sunshine,” she grumbled. “I’ve been set up on a date tonight with their son.”

The fork paused between Jamie’s mouth and his plate. “What?”

“Now who’s the choking ostrich?” Jiya said around a bite. “I’m in my late twenties. This was definitely on the horizon.” Her sigh held a touch of resignation. “I just expected a little warning.”

“Does Andrew know?”

Jiya’s mouth opened and closed. “I-I don’t see why I’d tell him.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow.

She signaled at him to keep eating. “Let’s get back to Marcus.”

He wanted to press, but she gave him a warning look. “You get to evade, but I don’t?”

Jiya smiled at him sweetly. “That’s how this friendship works.”

Jamie hummed. “Okay, so in one breath you tell me Marcus isn’t worth my time. In the next, you tell me you have a soft spot for him. What is that?”

“Obviously he is worth your time or you wouldn’t be spending it on him,” Jiya said matter-of-factly. “You’re too smart for that.”

“You make an excellent point.”

“And you remember how hard self-acceptance can be. You went through it yourself.” She set down her fork and folded her hands. “I’m looking at your exhausted, ugly face right now and I know you’re going to look like this until you stop feeling guilty about last night.”

“You’re trying to tell me I should help him.”

“I do not want you to have another situation like the last one,” she said. “But I think we both know Marcus is nothing like that”—she mouthed the word fucker—“you dated before. I think he’s worthy of a little guidance.”

“Why did I come here?”

“Because I’m the only one who can outsmart the smarty pants. And anyway, I’m giving you the answer you would have landed on anyway.”

Jamie snorted. “I’m not as nice as you think I am.”

“Yes you are. You just hide it well.”





CHAPTER NINE





Marcus was sweating through his shirt.

Jamie was an hour late to work. Where was he?

This never happened. Jamie always showed up on time. He was constant.

What if it was his fault? He’d pushed Jamie away last night, made him leave and now he didn’t want to look at Marcus’s big dumb face.

Marcus had been counting the hours since Jamie walked out his door last night until they’d see each other again. Not that he had any kind of plan. Or had an apology rehearsed. He just wanted to get into the same room with Jamie, because everything righted itself, ten times out of ten, when Jamie was standing in front of him. It never failed.

Oh my God, what if he’d quit?

It was kind of common knowledge that Jamie didn’t necessarily need to work in the summertime. He had a job at a prestigious private school in Brooklyn, was well paid and definitely didn’t need bar tips or lifeguarding money. Maybe he’d just decided it was easier to stay home and read then to deal with Marcus and the confusion that came along with him.