Page 119 of To Love or to Lose
“I can read more than your mind.” He takes a small step forward.
My back hits the wall of his bedroom door when I stumble back.
“When you’re nervous, you press your tongue against your cheek. When you’re upset, you clench your fists,” he says, making my pulse quicken. “But that look you had on your face? It’s the same one you had last night right before you kissed me.”
I push myself off the door. “Yeah right,” I scoff, trying to sidestep Jameson’s frame.
He blocks me in though, putting a hand on either side of the doorframe, caging his arms around my body.
He’s not even touching me. None of his weight is resting on me, and yet, all my mind can focus on is the heaviness of his limbs surrounding me.
“Jameson,” I rasp. “What are you doing?”
“Tell me you regret last night.” When I go to ask what he means, he says, “If you truly regret kissing me last night, if youreallybelieve that it was a drunken mistake, tell me now.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
His smell encases me, a light scent of tobacco. I’ve never noticed it before, and I wonder if it’s because he just got out of the shower.
He rests a hand on my jaw, like he’s going to kiss me again, but he doesn’t move any closer to me. “Because I’m telling you now, I meant everything I said last night.” He leans closer. “Every last word was true.” He whispers in my ear, his wet hair brushing against my neck.
I am stunned into complete silence, feeling faint as I grip one of his shoulders.
The only thing I manage to say as his hand leaves my jaw is, “I don’t regret it.”
That was all I needed to say for him to take both sides of my face in his hands and press me harder into the door behind me.
The kiss is just as intoxicating as the one last night. It feels like every possible emotion is flooding through my veins, and I can’t tell what any of it means.
Then my hands run through his wet hair, and I’m driven right back into reality.
Me. Jameson.Kissing.
“How the hell did we get here?” I ask when we break apart.
“We both know this is exactly how it was supposed to end,” he gasps, his breath ragged.
“You didn’t think that until last night,” I say, pushing my hand against his chest.
I’m well aware of how compromising our position looks. Jameson is only in a towel, and we’re kissing in the middle of the hallway of the Callaghan’s house.
“Maybe I only realized it last night.” He pushes my hair behind my shoulders. “But it’s been in the cards for a lot longer than one night.”
“What gave it away?” I joke. “Was it when I pushed you in the pool and you dragged me in with you? Or maybe when I stabbed you in the chest with your boutonniere?”
“I hate to admit it, but getting tossed in that pool made your tank top just a tad see through,” he answers, a small gleam in his eye.
“Jameson!” I gasp, shocked at his bluntness.
“What?” He laughs. “Would you rather me lie?”
“I can’t believe the first thing that attracted you to me was my bra.” I laugh with him, rolling my eyes.
“Hey,” he chastises. “I’ve been attracted to you ever since I found out you got a 1580 on the SAT.”
“That was the first time we met,” I tell him, as if he didn’t already know. “And I was also in a bikini, then.”
“It doesn’t matter that you were in a bikini,” he says, his voice full of sincerity. “All I saw was what’s up here.” He taps my skull with his pointer finger.
