Page 14 of Courageous Hearts

With a start, I look down, as if I could see through the sweatpants I’m wearing. But I don’t need to because of course I’m wearing lace. Because I always wear lace.

I groan again, loudly this time, before rolling onto my stomach and hiding my face against Jameson’s pillow. The dang thing smells like him. The same beachy scent I caught a whiff of last night. I thought I had imagined it, but it’s definitely there. Like sandalwood and something else…sea salt?

“Bo,” Jameson says with a chuckle, drawing my attention away from the smell of his pillowcase. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Quite honestly, it’s pretty hot.”

My cheeks burn, but I turn my head, peering at him. “Huh?”

He shrugs again. “It is. You look good in lingerie. It fits you. Like the makeup. And your clothes.”

My heart beats a little faster at his admission, and I’m grateful he can’t hear it. It’s one thing for the girls at work to tell me I look good. It’s completely another to hear the compliment coming from someone I’m attracted to. Because yes, clearly I’m attracted to Jameson.

Not that it matters. He’s just being nice.

“Well,” I say, forcing myself upright. “I appreciate you puttin’ up with me, but I’ll get out of your hair. Could I borrow some toothpaste before I go?”

Jameson watches me for a moment before blinking down at the bedspread. “Yeah, you can use my toothpaste.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, climbing off Jameson’s bed. When I spot my discarded pile of clothing on the floor, I curse. I left my backpack with my change of clothes at the bar.

“What is it?” Jameson asks from behind me.

I point at the pile. “Walk of shame.”

Jameson barks a laugh before hopping out of bed. “I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t needa do that,” I say.

He holds up his hand. “Please. Least I can do.”

“Fine,” I concede, grabbing the pile off the floor. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Right across the hall.”

“Thanks,” I mumble. Before I’ve reached the door, Jameson calls my name. I turn back. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t force me,” he reiterates, holding my stare. The stubble lining his jaw looks crisp, and I get lost there for a moment before Jameson’s voice pulls my gaze back up. “I’d like if we could be friends, Bo.”

“Why?” I ask before realizing how rude that sounds.

But Jameson doesn’t look put off. If anything, he looks pensive. “Beyond the fact that we work together, I like talking to you,” he finally says. “And the cuddles weren’t so bad.”

My heart starts to race again at the idea of allowing myself that sort of repeated comfort. Would Jameson really be okay with that? Some platonic cuddling?

But no, I squash the longing immediately. This man isn’t mine. Won’t ever be mine. Better not to get attached because I have a feeling I would. I could get attached to this man so easily if I allowed it.

Friends. That’s best. That I can do.

“Yeah, all right,” I reply, earning a dimple-popping smile from Jameson. “Friends.”

Chapter 5

Jameson

Bo keeps sneaking glances at me as I drive them home, and I do my best not to let them know I’ve noticed. I get the sense Bo is wrestling with something right now. I don’t know what, exactly, but they keep fidgeting.

Trying to set them at ease, I turn on the radio. Bo settles a little, humming as Adele comes on.

“Like this song?” I ask.

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