He leaves for London on Monday, I think—not that I would know if his plans have changed.
My mind goes back to the flight where we met, and now that I know the life that he leads . . . I can see it all so clearly.
He didn’t ask for my number because he didn’t want anything—he even said that was the reason why. But I never thought that he actually meant he didn’t want anything. I thought there was an ulterior motive and that was just the lie he used to cover it. Maybe some people are just wired never to want more. Or maybe he just hasn’t met the right person yet.
So many maybes.
My door buzzes, and I frown and get up and push the button. “Hello.”
“Hey.” The voice is distorted.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me,” he pants.
“Jameson?”
“You expecting someone else?” he says, obviously annoyed.
I smile, buzz him in, and run into the bedroom to take off my ragged nightdress that has hot chocolate spilled down the front of it. I flap my arms around in a panic and grab a towel off the rack. I wrap it around my chest as if I just got out of the shower. It’s a lot better than a soiled nightdress with dancing teddy bears on it. Why my grandma thinks dancing teddies is something I need, I’ll never know.
A knock sounds at the door, and I open it in a rush. And there he stands. Piercing blue eyes greet me. He’s wet with perspiration and panting.
My face falls. “Did you run all the way here?”
He nods. He has a melancholy feeling oozing out of him.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
He shrugs, and his eyes search mine.
“Jay,” I whisper as my heart melts. I take him in my arms and hold him tight. He clings to me as if his life depends on it.
We stand in each other’s arms for a long time; no words are needed. At this moment, he needs me.
“Did the ax murderer chase you here?” I whisper up against his cheek.
He smiles and grips me tighter. “Maybe.”
“I paid him to do that.”
“Witch.” He smirks.
“Come on, let’s get you in the shower.” I take his hand and lead him into the bathroom and turn on the shower and take his shirt off over his head.
His eyes darken, and I slowly slide his track pants down his legs.
“I’ve had the worst few days,” he murmurs.
I nod as I slide his briefs down his legs. “I know, baby. This work nightmare will be over soon.”
“It has nothing to do with work.”
“What’s it got to do with?”
His eyes hold mine, and he swallows the lump in his throat. “You.”
I smile softly as my heart free-falls from my chest. “You missed me?”
He nods as if he’s feeling stupid.
I kiss him and hold his face in my hands. “I missed you, too, you big dope.”
“But you said—”
“Don’t worry about what that snarky bitch said. She’s off her chops. Pay her no attention.”
He smirks as his hands drop to my behind. “Off her chops? What the hell does that even mean, Emily?”
I giggle. “When snarky bitches go crazy, they go off their chops.”
He chuckles and holds me close and inhales deeply into my hair as if he’s relieved.
“I don’t know what’s going on between us, Jay.” I hesitate as I try to articulate what I want to say. “But you can depend on me. Don’t be scared of us. Because I’m not.”
“You should be,” he fires back.
“Why would I be scared of someone who makes me feel the way you make me feel?”
His face softens, and he dusts my bottom lip with his thumb. “It’s been a long few days without you.”
I smile softly. I love him when he’s like this. “Get in the shower, and wash away the last week, and stay with me.”
His kiss deepens, and I feel his erection begin to grow up against my stomach. He pulls off the towel and leads me into the shower by the hand and pushes me up against the wall.
We kiss like we’ve been starved of each other. My man Jim is back . . . and I feel like we just jumped over some invisible hurdle between us.
What exactly that is I just don’t know, but I feel if I can bring Jim to me for long enough for things to become real between us, maybe I can help Jameson get some kind of work-life balance.
Monday morning
Jay holds me tight in his arms as we say our goodbyes. He goes to London for a week today. He has meetings all week. We’ve had the most amazing weekend. We stayed here at my apartment the entire time. I’ve cooked for us, we’ve made love and watched movies, and we even went for a run. Not a cranky CEO in sight. We went back to his place last night to pack his bag, and even then, we came back here to my house to sleep. I feel that when he’s here at my house, he’s able to detach from being Jameson Miles the CEO and just be a regular man . . . my man. He can forget who he is for a while and what is expected of him.