Chapter Twenty

Jamie

Fucking Thanksgiving.

 I drag my feet up the steps from Ryan’s apartment, careful not to spill anything from the pair of sleek black mugs in my hands. Chugging both sounds tempting as hell right now, but I have a sneaking suspicion the nervous wreck upstairs will do murder on me if I show back up from Café Ryan empty handed. Honestly, I’m not above just eating the grounds from this morning right out of her coffee filter at this point. 

       I would give my left nut for a catnap right about now.

        Everyone started trickling in Tuesday night and I haven’t slept a wink since yesterday morning.

Just like I suggested after Halloween, I’m staying at Eva’s, which on its own isn’t anything new, but the opportunities to catch up on whatever sleep I lost are non-fucking-existent with all the guests and there’s no end in sight. It’s not the longest I’ve ever gone without sleep, but that doesn’t make this any less brutal.

        I’m halfway up the first flight when I almost trip on a hunched figure sitting on the steps. I look down ready to tell whoever thought the main staircase was a good place to lounge, to fucking move it, but all my anger dies when I realize who it is.

        Little Lottie Carson.

        Well… maybe not so little anymore. Luke and Declan’s baby sister, just turned eighteen last week and officially through her gangly ugly duckling phase. Luke has been dreading the day she comes out of her shell and starts dating. She lifts her wide pixie shaped eyes to mine and silently scoots out of my way; tucking a blonde chunk of her hair behind her ear as she attempts to blend into the antique tile.

        “Sorry.” She mumbles into her notebook when I don’t immediately brush past.

        “What are you doing out here, kid?”

She shrugs, keeping her eyes on whatever she’s writing. The exhaustion must be fucking with my brain because I don’t move. I just stand there like some dumbass peer mentor, listening to the muffled laughter from Ryan’s as I wait her out.

We remain silent like a pair of assholes for thirty seconds before she sighs.

“It’s better to be out here alone than in there and ignored.”

I shuffle through some memories of her, trying to gauge if she’s just being a dramatic teen but something tells me that’s not the case. Lottie’s always been pretty chill, so if she’s feeling bad enough to be out here, then I doubt it’s all in her head.

“So, speak up.” I shrug.

Her eyes fly to mine as she pulls her top lip between her teeth. A myriad of emotions flit across her smoky blue eyes, each too fast to catch. Then she turns away, laughing through her nose, and dismissing the suggestion like it is insanity as she drops her gaze back to her notebook.

“You still play?” She asks

“Yeah.”

“Here,” she rips the paper she was writing on from the book and hands it up to me as she stares straight ahead, chewing her lips.

It’s sheet music.

“Do me a favor and play this at your next gig.” Then she stands and starts walking back to Ryan’s like her feet are made of lead.

“Why?” I call after her.

“So that it won’t rot away for the rest of eternity in a fucking notebook.” She calls back without turning around. Then she disappears through Ryan’s door and the whole strange ass conversation is over.

I’m just rounding on Nina’s apartment when I pass a disheveled Lisa Thompson making a clear walk of shame down the steps, probably hurrying home to make it her own holiday dinner. Dec took my room and obviously used it to fuck all night and morning on my goddamn bed.

        One day… I’m going to break that dipshit’s bones. 

        “You can do better.” I snort as we brush past each other.

        “So can Eva.” She doesn’t miss a beat or break her stride.

        No lie there.

        Lucky for Eva I’m too damn exhausted to get in my head about it. With a heavy sigh, I get her door open and kick it closed behind me as I set the coffee down on her counter. The shower has stopped running which means she should now be ready in three to five business days. 

        “Got coffee,” I call… and wait.

        Sure enough, the sound of Eva’s bounding footsteps pound through the apartment as she barrels toward the streaming brew. I swear the only time my girl is ungraceful is when she is charging for one of these mugs. She emerges around the corner a second later, wrapped in her fluffy robe with half of her makeup on and her wet hair thrown atop her head.

        “Oh, you got me two!” She beams, snatching both mugs and kissing my cheek. “You’re the best.”

        “You know it.” I smile as hard as I can, hoping like hell she doesn’t see the low key despair in my eyes as she walks away with my life line. No way can I deny her when she’s smiling at me like that. I wait for her hair dryer to turn on and quickly make a pot of coffee, so strong, it might be sludge and fill a cup with ice so I can chug the fuck out of it once it’s brewed. 

        I down the concoction, that legally can’t be called coffee, as fast as possible before the stingy princess comes back and realizes I’ve hit up her stash.  Then I head for her bathroom, hoping a quick rinse with frigid water will wake me up some more.

        “I’m grabbing a shower, you better be ready by the time I’m out!” I call.

        “Don’t rush me, jackass!” She shouts back, her voice sounding genuinely stressed and pulling me away from the bathroom. 

        I stop at her room and let out a long groan as I lean against the frame. This is not a good sign. There’s a tornado of clothes and shoes strewn across the normally neat floor. I can hear her muttering and rustling around somewhere behind the bed.

        My god she’s a disaster.

        “For fuck sake, Doe Eyes it’s just dinner at Ryan’s not a… grand… event...” Anything else I want to say trails off when she pops up wearing a lacy black push up bra… and the yellow skirt.

        “Which shirt should I wear?” Eva asks with a tight frown pulling at her pretty bow lips. She slings two pieces of fabric in front of her, but I can’t for the life of me tell what they are because all I see is my girl in that yellow skirt.

        My. Fucking. Girl.

I take a slow step in her direction.

Then another.

        “Jamie, please I’m freaking out.” She begins pacing, completely oblivious to the storm closing in on her. “You know how I get with this shit. I don’t know half of these people and I can already tell I’m going to talk in questions but at least if I look nice they won’t be so tempted to throw the turkey at me and I just need you to tell me which top works best.”

I’m still moving in slow motion. I don’t want to miss a single detail of how she looks right now.

“Blue looks nice with yellow right? No, that’s too summery. I’ll go with the maroon. But the blue one is a prettier cut? Oh! I have a green Oxford that might work...”

        Eva spins around to dig through her pile of clothes some more but doesn’t get very far before I’m on her. 

I’m wide the fuck awake now that I’ve seen her in the skirt I spent hours fantasizing about. She lets out a squeak of surprise as I catch her with one quick motion, banding my arm around her bare waist and pulling her legs around me as I sit us down on the bed. 

        “Wait! Jamie we—aahhh...”

        My hands are already pushing her bra up to her shoulders, releasing her goddamn flawless tits so I can get my mouth on her while my free hand tugs at my zipper and fishes through my pocket for a condom. I’ve grown smart enough to keep one on me at all times since I finally got inside this girl. 

        “Din-ner, dinner,” she pants arching into my face. I reach between us, pushing the soft fabric of her skirt up and pulling her underwear to the side. I instantly find my girl wet and ready and don’t waste another second sliding inside her.

        “Dinner can wait,” I growl into her chest. Nothing… not sleep deprivation, or a beloved national holiday… not even the mother fucking apocalypse could stop me from having Eva right now. “Ride me.”

        Her head falls back as she does just that, and it’s so far beyond what I fantasized about weeks ago.

*******

Eva

 “I’m so mad at you right now,” I whisper shout over the clicking of my heels on the tiled steps, as we hurry down the stairs towards Ryan’s apartment.

        “I’ll live,” Jamie chuckles behind me, all self-satisfied like the king of all jackasses after holding me up.

 Now I’m wearing an evergreen crew neck sweater that I hate, and my hair had to be thrown into a bun because it looks like a bird’s nest. The twenty damn minutes I spent styling it was time wasted thanks to Jamie’s stupid grabby hands. 

“We’re not that late, relax.” He’s still laughing behind me as he runs the tip of his finger along the shell of my ear. 

I ignore the molten chills running down my body and swat his hand away. “You know I hate being late under any circumstance,” I adjust my hold on the tray of butternut squash and rosemary dinner biscuits I made as the side dish. “And I really wanted to make a good first impression.”

        “And I keep telling you,” He groans as we round Nina’s apartment.  “You’re at the bottom of everyone's interesting topic list. All they’re going to care about is Luke and Neen—except maybe for Luke’s little sister who only cares about Ryan.”

        “I’m still mad at you,” I grumble, lifting my fist to knock on Ryan’s door, but Jamie catches it and gives my knuckles a quick kiss.

        “Everyone is going to love you, Doe Eyes,” he promises.

        “Yeah, because we all know how lovable I am when I’m nervous.” I raise my fist again to knock but this time Jamie spins me away, reaching over the tray of biscuits to cup my face and look intently into my eyes. His are red rimmed, and bloodshot, because he never seems to sleep.

        “Hey.” Jamie’s low thunder rumble rolls over my skin like a balm to my frayed nerves. “You’re the only one who believes that. Stop bracing yourself for failure before you even have a chance to try.”

“So, your first impression of me wasn’t horrible?” It’s sweet that he’s trying to make me feel better. But we both know he’s lying.

Something flickers behind his bloodshot eyes. It’s the same phantom expression from my first night here.

“If you remember one thing from that night,” he says, tightening his hold on my face. “Know my reaction was very much a me problem and had nothing to do with you.”

My mouth opens to respond but he cuts me off.

“You were perfect.” Jamie drops a kiss between my eyes and turns me forward, then opens the door before I can knock. “Now, let’s go show everyone how lovable you are.”

        My pulse stutters. He’s been throwing that L word around an awful lot lately.