I lived.
I existed.
I wasn’t playing Zach. I was playing Jaymeson — for the first time in my life, I didn’t have to pretend to be someone or something. I was being me. I was the one on the floor begging. I was the one confessing my love.
And I was the one willing to take whatever crumbs she dropped off her table.
“That was fun.” Priscilla cleared her throat and looked away while I went and pressed stop on the recording. I sent it to Peter immediately.
If that didn’t get me the job…
I didn’t want it.
“Are you staying?” Pris’s hand touched my back.
I turned and pulled her in for a kiss. “You’d have to lock me out to get rid of me.”
“Left side?” she whispered against my lips.
“Any side.” I plundered her mouth and retreated. “As long as it’s by you.”
Silently, we got into bed. I pulled her in to the curve of my body, and within seconds, her deep and even breathing told me she was asleep. I kissed her temple and whispered, “I love you.”
****
I heard a buzzing. At first I thought some suicidal bug had found its way into the guest room, but it kept getting louder and louder.
Groaning, I flipped over and noticed it was Pris’s phone. I hit ignore and tried to go back to sleep.
But it went off — again.
With a curse, I looked at the screen. It was her dad. Why would he be calling so late?
At any rate, he stopped calling.
And I fell into a fitful sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Priscilla
I woke up tangled in Jaymeson’s arms, cocooned in his warmth — he was so dang warm — so comfortable I didn’t ever want to leave his embrace. But I had to go to the bathroom, so I scooted away and walked toward the door.
A blinking on my phone caught my eye.
Putting off the bathroom visit, I snatched my phone up and saw a few missed calls from my dad and then some random number I’d never seen before. I quickly listened to the messages and smiled.
“Hey, honey, just hanging out, shooting the breeze. Being awesome. Thought I’d talk to my other favorite daughter. We’ll see you in a few days! Love you, sweetie! Don’t do drugs!” The voicemail ended.
The next two were warnings about not giving away my rose to a boy who didn’t like flowers and the next one had something to do with pie.
Parents were weird.
“I must breakfast you now,” Jaymeson announced when I sat back on the bed. “Or so help me God, I will be the worst boyfriend in the history of the universe.”
“Aw, how cute. You’ve been drinking already.”
“Not true!” Jaymeson shot out of bed, his hair a spiky mess, and his cheeks flushed.
How the heck was it fair that he looked like that? And I looked like I got run over by two trucks while I was sleeping?
“Breakfast for the fair lady.”
“You’re weird.”
He shrugged. “Part of my charm.”
I nodded and looked away. Was he really my boyfriend? Were we doing this?
“Pris…” Jaymeson’s arms came around me as he pressed a kiss to the back of my head. “Don’t freak out but…”
My heart started hammering in my chest.
“…I want to take you on the best date in the history of dates. I want to fly you to London. I want to go to France, and I want to sit at the Taj Mahal and kiss you as the sun sets…” He cleared his throat. “But since Evan’s going to want me to work another day at The Goodwill before I start helping out with the local theatre camp, can we just walk along the beach?”
I laughed and nodded. “Yeah. But only after you make me breakfast.”
“Demanding little wench.”
“Yup.”
He squeezed his arms around me and kissed my head again, then rose up from the bed and walked to the door.
When he opened it, Demetri was standing on the other side. A frying pan in his hand and a glare across his ridiculously handsome face.
“What are your intentions, sir?” Demetri asked.
Jaymeson crossed his arms. “Breakfast.”
“Will there be… eggs?” Demetri coughed. “For breakfast?”
“Probably.”
“Will they be scrambled? Please say no, please say no.”
“Stop speaking in metaphors, jackass, and help me feed the women.”
Demetri peered around Jaymeson and apparently seeing that I was fully clothed and not taken advantage of, seemed to be satisfied and followed my boyfriend into the kitchen.
My boyfriend.
Yeah, I would never get tired of saying that. Ever.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jaymeson
I went slow with her — even though I knew her parents were coming back soon — I still went slow.
Without realizing it, I’d become her friend, and then her boyfriend, and quite honestly, I liked the friend part a hell of a lot more than I realized. So instead of locking her in her bedroom — which at times still sounded like a really brilliant idea — I spent an entire week wining and dining her.
We went to the beach.
I took her out to dinner.
We held hands.
Freaking HELD HANDS. But it was awesome. I loved it — I loved her. More than I wanted to admit out loud, because then it freaked me out that I could possibly lose her.
Because I still wasn’t sure what I would do once my little jaunt in Seaside ended. Would she come with me? Would she even want to? Did I even want the movie anymore?
It was day seven, well, actually night seven.
I was trying to play it cool, trying not to freak the hell out as I lay in bed with her.
Demetri demanded we leave the doors open just in case I couldn’t be trusted — but honestly, if I hadn’t tried anything before, I sure as hell wasn’t going to try anything now.
“What’s wrong?” Pris cuddled into my chest and wrapped her arms around me. It was the perfect moment.
It was also our last night before her parents came back.
“Nothing,” I shrugged. “I’m just going to miss having you in my arms every night.”
“Because I’m going somewhere?”
“Because,” I sighed. “Your parents are coming back and I don’t want to get shot by your pastor dad, that’s why.”
“He doesn’t even own a gun.” Pris giggled.
“Um, believe me, if he saw me in your bed he’d go out and buy one — or three.”
We stayed in comfortable silence for a while before Pris shifted and looked up at me. “What’s going to happen?”