Page 18 of The Way Home
Reluctantly, I grabbed his hand and moved it away from my bare skin, and slid a few inches away from him, needing space to be able to breathe and think. “We can't do this, Jem.”
Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “Do what, talk?”
I waved my hand between us. “Whatever this is.”
He looked like he wanted to reach out to me again, but instead folded his hands in his lap. “Listen, I'm not going to apologize for kissing you, because, fuck, Riley, I've thought about it for so long.So long. If you need time to work through shit, I'll give it to you. Whatever you decide you want this to be, I'll deal with, but I'm not going away, you hear me?”
My mouth fell open as my head tried to keep up. Did he just say he'd been wanting to kiss me for a long time? That couldn't be real, right? I didn't even know what to say after such a confession.
Jeremy's expression grew serious. “I need you to promise me something, Ri.”
“Okay?”
“Promise me you won't leave again. Don't disappear on me. I don't… think I can handle it if you did.” His voice broke at the end, and he looked away. Jeremy always seemed so strong, not just physically but mentally, too. My chest ached at the thought of causing him pain.
“I promise.” Even if it killed me, but I could do it for him.
Jeremy gave me a wistful smile and got up from my bed. As he walked toward the door, he said, “Brunch is keeping warm in the oven, come out and eat whenever you're ready.”
Brunch. The man was seriously too good for the world. I was in here having an existential crisis and he had been cooking. Why did he have to be so perfect?
If I was going to find a way forward with him, I needed to get over myself, get out of my room, and get used to being around him without picturing his mouth on me. He had such a pretty mouth, though, and now I had a brand new memory of it seared onto my lips, not just the ones from the past.Fuck me.
Pulling on a pair of jeans in the hopes it would keep my dick under control, I took a deep breath and headed toward the kitchen.I can do this. I can do this.
To my surprise, Jeremy wasn't in the kitchen, not that he said he would be waiting for me, but perhaps a part of me was hoping he would be. Contradicting thoughts? Yup, as per usual when it came to him. I opened the oven and found a plate with an egg white omelet and what looked like turkey bacon. It smelled delicious, and I was starving. I wasn't used to someone cooking for me.
In all honesty, I ate a lot of food that came out of boxes. It was a habit that started in college when I was too overwhelmed and exhausted to cook food from scratch, and the microwave was so convenient. Once I graduated and was living on my own, well… it was a hard habit to break. Besides seeing the family, coming home for the holidays meant eating good, home-cooked food. Though my appetite for it often failed when it meant having to sit across from Jeremy.
Now, I found myself wishing for exactly that, to have him at the table with me.
I heard a clunk from down the hall and turned to look. “Everything okay?” I shouted, resisting the urge to check it out. The last time I did, I'd gotten an eye-full of Jeremy in tiny little briefs while he was on all fours on the floor, and damn, that image wasn't one I would forget anytime soon.
Jeremy popped his head out of the bathroom, holding up a first aid kit. “Yup. Found it.”
My ridiculous stomach fluttered as he came toward me. Jeremy knelt in front of me, making that fluttering turn into a swarm, and my heart kicked up. It was too soon after thinking of him in the shower for him to be in this position. “What are you doing?”
Gone was the too-serious, too-worried expression that had been present when he was in my room. It was almost as if it had never happened, but I wouldn't forget that look either. Not the tiny briefs, and not the hurt on his face. “Let me look at your arm. I promised we would get you fixed up.”
The cut had stopped bleeding over an hour ago, and I'd been so distracted in the shower andafterthe shower I hadn't even thought about it. Still, I held it up, needing to do what he asked.
Jeremy turned my arm over and chuckled. “It's just a scratch.”
“That's whatIsaid,” I responded. “The whole backpack ride home was completely unnecessary. It just bled a lot at first, but it's fine.”
“I disagree. It was completely necessary, and you know what? I think you liked it, too.” He opened an alcohol wipe and swiped it over the wound. I hissed slightly at the sting. Okay, maybe it was a little more than a scratch.
“I, uh, tolerated it.”
“Uh-huh.” Jeremy shot me an amused look that said we both knew it was a lie, and I couldn't even deny it.
He rifled through the kit, pursing his lips. While it wasn't a serious injury, I could admit to myself it was nice to have him fussing over me. “I think we need to restock this. It probably hasn't gotten a lot of use since I was in school getting roughed up in football. I might have to wrap it.”
“Whatever you say, Coach.”
Jeremy gave me one of his award-winning smiles. “That sounds pretty good, doesn't it?”
My lips tilted up at seeing the way he lit up. “Yeah, it's got a ring to it.”
