Page 118 of To Love or to Lose
If it weren’t for the pounding headache I'm dealing with today, I would think nothing out of the ordinary happened.
I think back to last night, a sudden memory of sitting with Jameson near the firepit—kissingJameson near the firepit.
Yeah, last night was most definitely out of the ordinary.
All I came here to do was drop Gwen off. She and Mae have been planning a backyard tea party with their friends in celebration of the semester ending.
What a difference their celebration is to ours.
“Gen!” Logan smiles as he walks out of the living room. “How are you feeling?”
I hate him and his smug grin so much right now. “Like I got hit by a bus.”
Fun fact—but also really annoying fact—Logan Callaghan has never once been hungover, and I envy him for it every time I drink with him.
“Are you staying for the tea party?” He asks.
“No.” I glare. “I’m going home and I’m sleeping.” Logistically, it’s not his fault he isn’t hung over, but his chipper attitude is making me angrier.
“Well, you're missing out. Mae has forced me into wearing a tutu and crown,” he says.
“Shit,” I groan, already turning back toward the front door at the mention of tea party attire. “Gwen left her tutu in my car.”
I walk out the front door and back to my car, grabbing Gwen’s sleepover bag and lugging it into the house. I’m just glad I realized this before I got home.
“Can I take this upstairs to her?” I ask Logan. I’m not sure why; I already know his response.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
I make my way up to the second level of the house, not really paying attention as I walk down the hall since I am already well acquainted with the layout.
“Gwen!” I call, close to Mae’s bedroom door.
Then, the bathroom door swings open, and I pummel into a hard, wet chest.
“Jesus.” I hear an English accent stammer as he grabs my shoulders, keeping me from falling over.
“Oh, my God.” I step back, feeling the urge to slap a hand over my forehead.
That’s when I notice Jameson is practically naked, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. The fact only makes the situation all the more mortifying.
“Are you alright?” Jameson asks, assessing me.
His arms are still outstretched, holding onto me. This must be one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to me.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, “I didn’t know you were in there. I was just coming up to give Gwen her bag and then the door opened, and I didn’t see, and then you stepped out and…” I trail off, realizing I must really be taken aback because I have never rambled in my entire life, and yet that’s what I’m doing.
“Genevieve,” Jameson cuts me off from continuing. “You’re fine, it’s no big deal.”
I glance down at his body without meaning to. I’ve seen Jameson shirtless before, but those times were different. Those instances weren’t the morning after I kissed him.
“You’re thinking about kissing me.” I blink roughly, focusing my attention back toward Jameson’s face.
“What?” I shake my head as I attempt to register what he just said.
“I can tell you were thinking about last night.” He smirks. “When you kissed me.”
“What, so you’re a mind reader now?” I ask, my arms crossing over my chest as I take another step back.
