Page 69 of The Heart Shot
I closed my eyes at his words.I was imagining this. I had to be.
How had he fallen for me?
I was grumpy and insecure, with enough baggage to fill an airport three times over. How could anyone fall for that?
But what scared me even more than his declaration weremyfeelings.
Because if I had been able to utter a single word, I knew I would’ve said it back.
Because, despite Smart Elsie’s protests, I was falling for Jameson, too.
Jameson had wriggled his way inside my heart like a worm in an apple.
How did I get him out? Or the better question was…how did I get myself towanthim out? Because if I were being honest, I desperately wanted things to work between us.
Dang it, Elsie. Why did you have to fall for this man?
My thoughts spun in circles about masks, and resentment, and feelings I shouldn’t have while Jameson patiently waited for me to say something, but no words would come. After another moment he touched his forehead to mine.
“You don’t have to say anything now.” His fingers ran through my hair before tucking it behind my ears. “There’s no pressure. I’m not going anywhere.”
He pecked a kiss on my forehead before stepping back to open the car door. His endless patience and understanding rendered me speechless, and I slid into the seat, numb. He drove me back to my car at the beach, his hand intertwined in mine, while my brain warred with itself. By the time he dropped me off, I still couldn’t formulate words, unable to quiet every doubt and insecurity running rampant in my mind.
What was I supposed to do now?
Jameson
Elsie didn’t say anything when I confessed my feelings, and to say her silence was a sucker punch to my stomach was an understatement. I knew she was hesitant about dating, and I kept telling myself it was okay. If I were honest, I never thought that agreeing to do a silly couples photoshoot with someone I had never met, would end with me falling for the girl.
And yet, here we were.
Elsie was full of life and sass, and I loved every bit of it. Even in the brief interaction with my mom, she had sensed something special in Elsie. I had never seen my mom take to a girl like that.My mom was unafraid to say what she was thinking, and most women would have been scared away.
But not Elsie.
She had laughed, blushed, smiled, even played along when my mother ribbed at me.
I ran a hand through my hair.I really like this girl.There had been a spark from that very first meeting in the sunflowers, but never had I imagined it would turn intothis.
Elsie had to feel something between us. She wouldn’t kiss me like that—dig her fingers into my skin and hold me tighter like she had—if she didn’t feelsomethingtoward me.The question was…was what she felt strong enough to counteract whatever fears and reservations she had about me to begin with?
After I dropped her off at her car, I went home, mind spinning. I thought about going back to spend time with my mom, but she had middle-named me in front of Elsie and insisted she was fine. I couldn’t argue with being middle-named.
Even at almost thirty years old, my mother still had me wrapped around her finger.
So now, here I sat on my leather couch, nursing a warm mug of coffee, thoughts of Elsie incessant in my mind.
Her soft floral scent.
The tender press of her lips on mine.
Her fingers in my hair, on my neck.
I rubbed my face. I was a goner.
This girl had me hook, line, and sinker.
I tried not to think about the flash of fear in her eyes when I told her how I felt. I chose to be optimistic that she was only scared by what she felt for me in return. But the practical part of me couldn’t help but worry about whether I had made a mistake in telling her.What if she didn’t reciprocate? What if my declaration scared her so much that she ended things?
