Page 21 of The Way Home
“Okay, that sounds fine.But…instead of being alone in your room, why don't you bring your book out to the living room? I was planning on playing someMaddenon the PS4. I know sports games aren't your favorite, but at least we can do what we want together. We're supposed to be‘playing nice and trying to get along’ after all.”
I breathed in deep, and let it out slowly. He was right, and like my mom said, I needed to get out of my head and out of my own way. I hated hearing the hurt in my mom's voice, knowing I'd put it there. Jeremy wasn't demanding anything extreme—he wasn't demanding anything at all—but the hopeful tone wasn't something I wanted to shut down. In truth, having a low pressure way to exist together sounded kind of… nice, actually.
“Okay.”
Jeremy beamed, looking as radiant as ever. Fuck, I really wanted to run my thumb over that beautiful smile. “Hell yeah! Make sure you come back, though. Otherwise, I'll have to engage in a search and rescue operation.”
I shook my head as I walked down the hall, knowing full well he would find a reason to come and get me, or he would crawl into my bed and block my book. The man was relentless. With anyone else, it would be irritating as hell, but with him, it was strangely endearing to know that he wasn't going to let me escape no matter how much my instincts told me I should.
Jeremy
The rest of the day we'd spent more time in each other's presence than we had in the last decade. Even while he was sitting there reading, and I was playing a video game, his nearness seemed to soothe my soul, lifting a weight I hadn't realized I'd been carrying.
It was somewhat stilted with Riley sitting as far to the opposite side of the couch as possible, but I still considered it a win. After a time of pretending to read, it seemed he'd finally relaxed enough to do exactly that.
The next couple of days were similar. We would eat together and then hang out in the living room, which acted as neutral ground. Riley had been getting up earlier than me, probably to avoid me surprising him in his room again. Which, considering the tent pole I'd walked in on the other day, was probablywise. Now that I'd been able to kiss him again, I was dealing with frequent wood myself. Morning, night, wet dreams. It was ridiculous, really. I felt like a horny teenager all over again. Having my teenage dream boy so close I could touch him if he would let me seemed to have cranked up my libido. At this rate, I was going to need more lube, and the only action I'd seen was my hand. Okay… and a toy or two.
There were times I caught him watching me, and I heard his confession all over again. “Because I can't have you. Not the way I want to.” Rileywantedme, and the feeling was oh-so-very mutual. Which made sitting here like strangers keeping a polite distance even harder. He needed time, though, and I would give it. I had a lifetime to give if it meant keeping him from running away again.
Well, I'd give him time, but maybe not so much space. I would happily take every inch he allowed as I slowly—so slowly—slid closer to him. I'm pretty sure I caught a little smirk after one of my not-so-subtle adjustments. He'd even gotten to the point where he'd begun making little comments on my game as he watched over the top of his book.
“So is this what you've been doing when you say you've been preparing for your interview?”
I took the small pillow from the couch and threw it at his face. He used his book as a shield, letting out a laugh. Good. I liked his snark. It was way better than his silence.
“No, fucker, this is my way to relax. I'll have you know I have a whole playbook I've been meticulously putting together, and I go over it every night.”
Riley lowered his book and gave me a sweet smile. “I don't doubt it. I think it's great. When is your interview?”
“Tomorrow.” It was just another thing I was trying hard not to think about. Playing video games helped distract me. Both from the anxiety of a meeting that could change the course of my lifeand the man I desperately wanted to touch and was trying hard not to. Madden was doing the lord's work right now. How did humans survive before game consoles?
“How are you feeling about it?”
I scrubbed a hand over my hair. “I don't know. I'm as ready as I can be, I think. Now, I'm just eager to get it over with.”
“Understandable. Just go in there and be yourself. They're going to love you, Jem.”
Damn, I didn't realize how much I missed hearing his unique nickname for me. Every time he let it slip was like cold aloe on a sunburn, soothing, calming. Funny how one little word could feel so good.
“Thanks, Ri. I appreciate you saying that.” Needing this interaction to continue somehow, I asked, “Did you want to play something? I'm up for a different game if you want to join in.”
Riley looked between his book and the TV with a torn expression. To anyone else, the offer of a game would simply be a game. I meant it as one, but with our history there was more weight to it.
Once upon a time, we would play games all day together only for it to turn into flirting and touching, usually ending in a variety of undress until we'd both been panting and sweating on this very couch. The memory hit me right in the nuts as I thought of our Mario Kart foreplay. Did he remember, too?
Riley bit his lip as his cheeks pinked, and he returned his gaze to his book. “No, maybe not right now.”
So close. “All right, but if you change your mind, just let me know.”
“Mm-hm,” he mumbled, feigning disinterest, though I caught the way his legs opened a little wider. Maybe it was my own wishful thinking. Riley slid a quick glance to me before darting his eyes away. Maybe not.
I smiled to myself. The end zone was in sight, but sometimes you had to get there one yard at a time.First down: HOEs.
As the day turned to night, a chill swept through the house. Outside, thick clouds were rolling in. A storm. Just fucking perfect. I loved the rain, but it tied itself to the memory of getting the air knocked out of me and being unable to draw in a breath. It seemed so minor considering what could have happened, but I always felt it building in my chest, making it hard to draw a full breath.
We'd eaten dinner and had been cleaning the dishes together when a crack of lightning sounded, and my hand went to my chest. Riley flashed me a concerned look. “Are you okay?”
I lowered my hand, trying not to look as panicked as I felt. “Yeah. I'll be okay. I wasn't expecting a thunderstorm tonight. It seems like it came out of nowhere.”
