Page 70 of Him
Ain’t gonna lie—it hurt.
“Am I wrong?” I ask flatly.
Jamie releases a slow, even breath, as if he’s trying to calm himself. “I want to punch you right now, Wesley. Like, for real.”
I set my jaw. “What, for daring to call you out on the fact that you’re still into women?”
“You really think I’d just roll out of bed with you and into bed with her? I didn’t hook up! Which is more than I can say for you and your precious Sam.”
“I didn’t hook up with him, either.” Frustration spirals through me. “We just met up for a drink and talked about you the whole time. Jackass.”
Jamie blinks. “Then why the hell are we arguing right now?”
I falter. “Uh. I’m not sure anymore.”
There’s a beat. Then we both let out a tense chuckle. I’m feeling a lot less hostile and a lot more sober as I walk over to shut off the light again. When I turn back toward Jamie, he’s beckoning to me in the dark from his mattress on the floor. When I sit on the edge, he tugs me down to his pillow.
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 asshole. 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 fucking long. Forever. And the thought of letting him go in less than a month rips me apart.
But I’m going to have to.
