Him (Him #1)(55)

We’re stretched out on our sides, facing each other. We’re both waiting for the other to speak. Then Jamie sighs, his expression flickering with resignation. “I don’t like the idea of you messing around with anyone else.”

I swallow my surprise. “Right back atcha, babe.”

“I told Holly there was someone else,” he admits. “Pretty much right when she got here.”

My heart soars. “You did?”

His voice is thick. “Yeah. “

“I told Sam the same thing,” I confess. “He tried to cop a feel when we hugged hello, and I straight-up said I wasn’t there for that.”

His eyes narrow. He slides toward me, one arm coming around my waist as his warm palm settles over my ass. “Where did he touch you?” Jamie squeezes one of my butt cheeks. “Here?”

I chuckle. “Yup.”

“Fucker.”

I lean closer and kiss the tip of his nose. “That’s as far as it got, man. I promise.”

“Don’t have to promise. I trust you.”

My stomach churns at his earnest declaration. He trusts me. Fuck, I’m such an *. Because trust was the last thing I felt today when I was imagining Jamie’s hands all over that chick. And the fact that she’s rocking a vagina makes it a thousand times worse. I’ve never had to worry that the guy in my bed might choose a girl over me.

Then again, I’ve never cared what the guys in my bed did after they left my bed. It’s different with Jamie. I feel sick when I picture him leaving me. I feel sicker knowing I’m competing with not one, but two gender pools for his affection.

Except I won’t have his affection for much longer. Once camp is over, we’ll be going our separate ways. I hadn’t been joking around with Cassel the other day—if I want to succeed in the pros, I need to keep my pants zipped.

“But I think we need some ground rules or something,” Jamie says ruefully.

I swallow. Me and rules have always had a love-hate relationship. “Like what?”

“Like as long as we’re fooling around, we’re exclusive.”

Ha. Because I’m so interested in screwing anyone else. Still, I nod in agreement, because I happen to be very interested in making sure he doesn’t screw anyone else. “Deal. What else?”

He purses his lips. “Ah…that’s all I’ve got right now. You?”

Reluctance jams in my throat. I know I need to say this, but I don’t want to. I’ve wanted this guy for so f*cking long. Forever. And the thought of letting him go in less than a month rips me apart.

But I’m going to have to.

“We end it when we leave for training camp.” My voice comes out hoarse, and I pray he can’t hear the note of pain in it. “We only have the summer.”

Jamie goes quiet for a moment. “Yeah.” He sounds equally hoarse. “I figured.”

I can’t tell how he feels about that. Disappointed? Sad? Relieved? His expression reveals nothing, but I decide not to push for answers. Besides, I’m the one who came up with that rule. I should be glad he’s not fighting me on it.

“We should go to sleep,” I murmur.

“Yeah.” He closes his eyes, but instead of rolling over, he shifts closer and kisses me.

I return his kiss softly. When I put a hand on his hip, the fabric crinkles beneath my fingers in a way that feels unfamiliar. They’re not his usual underwear, so I break our kiss to squint at them in the dark. “Canning,” I whisper. “Are you wearing your boxer shorts with kittens?”

Even in the dim light I can see the corners of his mouth twitch. “So what if I am?”

For some reason, this makes me unthinkably happy. I lean in to touch my smile to his. But Jamie squirms a little, as if uncomfortable. Then he sticks a hand down the back of the aforementioned boxer shorts and brushes something.

“Everything okay back there?” I ask, wondering if he’d left the tag in them.

“Just, uh, a Skittle in my shorts.”

We both chuckle even as our lips meet again. And again. Finally I’m able to relax. His arms close around me and it feels like coming home.

Our mouths fit together so perfectly. Every time we kiss, I fall even more in love with him, and it has nothing to do with sex or lust. It’s him. His closeness and his scent and the way he soothes me.

My life has been chaotic for as long as I can remember, and I always dealt with it alone. My parents’ criticism, my confusion over my sexuality. But for six weeks every summer, I didn’t have to be alone. I had Jamie, my best friend, my rock.

Now I have even more of him. I have his strong arms around me and his lips lazily brushing mine, and it absolutely kills me that I have to give him up when I go to Toronto.

We kiss for a while. There’s no urgency to do anything more than that. Our dicks don’t even enter the equation. We just lie there making out, while his palms stroke up and down my back in sweet, reassuring glides.

Eventually we fall asleep with my head on his chest and the sound of his steady heartbeat beneath my ear.





26





JULY





Jamie


Several days later, I get an email from my agent.

A year ago, I loved saying that. My agent. Sounds pretty important, no?