What the fuck was I thinking?
I scrub a hand over my face and instantly regret it when the scent of Jamie hits my nostrils.
The scent of her pussy.
My fingers were inside her.
She was wet for me, and hell, I wanted to fuck her more than I’d wanted anything.
I storm toward the bar in the ski lodge. As I trek in, I see Archer sitting alone at the bar.
As much as I love my friends and that they came along with me, I’m happy no one else is here.
Archer glances at me, raising his brow when I slump down on the chair next to him. “Damn, dude, you definitely look like you need a drink. A motherfucking strong one.”
Stupidly, I rub my hand over my face again. I slide Archer’s glass over, grab the napkin that was underneath it, and wipe my hands. “I need a few of them.”
He signals to the bartender and orders us a round of Jack and Cokes before giving me his full attention. “What happened? You and Jamie finally fuck?”
I flinch. Am I that easy to read?
“Is that a yes?”
I don’t answer him.
I need the booze before I can give him story time.
The bartender drops my drink in front of me, and I mutter a quick, “Thanks.”
“How was it?” Archer pushes.
“We didn’t fuck.”
“Something happened, though.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. “How was it?”
“Fucking wrong. That’s what it was.”
“Wrong because there was no connection or wrong because of who she is to you?”
I knock back my drink in seconds, slam the glass onto the bar like the assholes do at my bar—the ones I want to kick out—and order another.
“Wrong because of who she is to you, I take it.”
“She’s my son’s aunt. Hell, he doesn’t even know she’s his aunt. She’s my ex’s sister. Her family attempted to take my son away from me, and now, I’m fucked. If Noah loses her, it’ll break his goddamn heart. All because of my stupidity.”
Archer doesn’t ask what happened.
He isn’t like that.
He won’t make snide remarks or jokes.
“What are the reasons it could be right between you two?”
“Nothing.”
“Yet you still hooked up.”
I give him a hard stare.
He shrugs, grabbing his drink and taking a sip. “You’re attracted to her. There’s something there. Go for it.”
“Attraction doesn’t always mean it’s a good idea.”
He tips his glass my way. “True.”
His phone rings, and my attention hits it before he has a chance to silence the call.
“Why’s my sister calling you?”
He shoves the phone into his pocket. “Who knows? Probably to yell at me or ask me about work.”
“I didn’t know you had each other’s numbers.”
“We work together.” It’s his turn to finish his drink off in one swig. “Look, you’re my friend. The situation you’re in is weird, and I don’t blame you for not crossing a line. I can’t tell you what to do.” He pokes my shoulder. “Only you know how far you want to take it, how much you want her, how fucking broken you’ll be if you lose her. Whatever your choice, just remember, it’s on you. Either way, I’ll support you, but in the end, I hope whatever you choose makes you happy.”
His phone rings in his pocket again, and he ignores me, his face stressed.
The bartender serves our next round, and this time, we knock them back at the same time, as if my stress has rubbed off on him.
That, or he was already that way, and like me, that’s why he escaped to the bar.
Archer stays at the bar, not looking at his phone, not watching TV, just thinking, when I decide to head back to the cabin.
He mutters a, “Good-bye,” along with a, “Good luck.”
“The end,” I hear as I walk up the stairs.
I peek into the door of Noah’s room to find Jamie parked on the edge of the bed with a book in her hand.
Noah’s eyes are sleepy and his smile lopsided when he notices me. “Hi, Dad! Jamie read me my bedtime story tonight. She said I should wait for you, but I told her I was tired and that you could do it tomorrow.”
Guilt floods me.
I should’ve been here.
Not drinking away the regret of finger-fucking Jamie.
I nod to the book when Jamie timidly looks back at me. “It’s his favorite.”
She bows her head, her cheeks blushing. “That’s what he said.”
“Bedtime,” I say as the room grows silent.
Noah nods. “Night, Daddy! Night, Jamie!”
Jamie scrambles off the bed, cringing when her foot with the hurt ankle hits the floor, and pain or not, she manages to get as far away from me as possible. I walk farther into the room to kiss Noah’s forehead and tuck him in tight.
We leave the room, and when I shut the door, she presses her back against it, catching her breath.
“Jamie,” I whisper, turning to face her.
She shakes her head. “Nope. I’m not having this conversation.”
“We need to—”
“My ankle is swollen, and my mind is confused.” She looks up at me with fear and confusion swimming in her eyes. “And I need a shot of whatever the hell you were drinking.”
I massage the area between my brows with my thumb. “I fucked things up.”
She sighs. “It was bound to happen.”
I nod in agreement.
“I need to get some sleep.”
When she goes to hobble around me, I capture her elbow. “Jamie—”
“What happened, happened. We were drinking spiked hot chocolate. We can blame it on that.”
I tip my head down and lower my voice in case Noah turns nosy. “We had, like, two sips.”
“Two sips too many, obviously.”
“Why can’t I get you out of my head?”
Her lip trembles, and she slumps against the wall behind her. “Why can’t I get you out of mine?” She rakes her hand through her hair before pulling it. “I wish our situation were different.”
I solemnly nod. “Me, too, but do you think it’s that wrong?”
“I honestly don’t know what to think anymore. When this started, when you walked into that hospital room, my entire world changed. Even when I pleaded to see Noah, I never thought this”—she signals back and forth between us—“would happen. I didn’t foresee that storm, and now, I don’t know what the fuck to do with it.”
“You think I did?” I grind out.
“Neither one of us did.” She blows out a tired breath. “This is the wrong time, the wrong place, to have this conversation.”
I nod. “Agreed.”
I assist her to her bedroom, stopping at her doorway this time—as if we are worried that, if I go any further, we’ll end up in her bed.
“Good night, Jamie.”
“Night, Cohen.”
I trek down the stairs and make my pallet on the couch.
I don’t sleep.
All I do is lie there and think.
I’m so fucked.
“Don’t forget,” Noah shouts from the back seat, rocking from side to side. Kid had too much root beer at lunch. “I’m spending the night with Aunt Georgia tonight!”
Every year for his birthday, Georgia and he have a sleepover where she spoils him rotten with sugar and fun before he passes out in exhaustion.
They go to the movies and dinner, and he always looks forward to it.
“I didn’t forget, buddy,” I reply.
To say this morning was awkward is an understatement. Good thing my child loves to talk because it’s what saved me from engaging in too much conversation with Jamie. We woke up, packed our shit, said good-bye to everyone, and left. We stopped for a quick lunch through the drive-through, and I let Noah listen to his Kidz Bop shit, knowing damn well I’d have a headache from it later.
Since Jamie’s car is at my house, I go straight to mine.
She doesn’t utter a word as I do.
Jamie sits in the living room while I pack Noah’s overnight back—vetoing him wearing his swim trunks with cowboy boots and a sweatband around his head.
Where the hell did he even get a sweatband?
When we’re done, Georgia and Jamie are in the living room, talking about Georgia’s classes. As soon as Georgia and Noah are out the door, I decide to jump right in before either I chicken out or Jamie leaves.
If I hesitate, it might never happen.
The question has been on the tip of my tongue since it slid into her mouth last night.
“Jamie,” I say, sprawling out on the couch with my legs spread, “why’d you kiss me?”
She stares at me with reluctance in her eyes. “I wanted to show you my skills have improved since high school.” The smirk fighting at her lips tells me she’s damn proud of her answer.
Those were probably the words on her mind since we pulled away last night.
“Definitely have improved,” I reply, and my dick stirs at the memory of how soft her lips were and how responsive she was to my touch. “Now, tell me the real reason you kissed me.”
She hesitates, opening her mouth and then closing it before shutting her eyes and blowing out a long breath. “I kissed you because I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and out of all people, it has to be you.”
I spread my palm over my chest. “That sure makes a man feel good.”
“You know what I mean,” she says with a sigh. “The guy who’s definitely, one hundred percent, without a doubt off-limits to me is you—the one I definitely, one hundred percent wish weren’t.”
“Why am I one hundred percent, all the rest of the shit you said off-limits to you?”
She winces. “You need me to answer that question? I never thought you were one hundred percent clueless.”
“There are a million reasons it could be. What’s the main reason you don’t want me to touch you again? You don’t want my mouth back on yours?”
Is it because of Noah?
Heather?
Because you think I’ll break your heart?
All of the above?
“You chose her.” Her response is merely a whisper, and I’m surprised I made out the words.
My chest squeezes tight. “Why do you keep saying that? I didn’t choose her over you. You were younger than me—much younger—and I met you because I was dating Heather.” I throw my arms out. “There was never a lineup, an ultimatum, that said, Choose Heather or choose Jamie. At that time, you were my girlfriend’s little sister—too young, and no offense, but too immature. And I’m not going to lie to your face; yes, I was in love with another woman. I believed I was in love with another woman.”
Her face twists in pain.
My heart does the same.
My words have struck a nerve.
Hell, they have with me, and I was the one saying them.
I continue before she smacks me in the face and leaves, “Did my thoughts sometimes change as you got older? Was there ever a doubt in my mind after you shoved me into that bathroom and kissed me? Yes. That night, the urge to pin you against the wall, to teach you how to kiss so I could keep kissing you, burned through me, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. You weren’t mine—”
“And you weren’t mine,” she shrieks, unshackling the hurt and anger my words created.
“I wasn’t yours,” I repeat with a bowed head before tilting it up, my eyes set on her, hoping she can read the honesty in them. “I was a different man then. And I’m not spouting this bullshit because Heather is no longer around, and I see you as a second choice.” I slap my hand over my heart. “I let you in, Jamie, even when I’d sworn the door would never open again. I did that, not with the intention or the thought of the feelings emerging, because you’re the kindest fucking soul I know. I opened myself up because you’re beautiful, inside and out. I tried to keep my distance by not being around when you saw Noah, but that didn’t work.” My heart hammers against my chest. “I fucking crave you, Jamie. As much as I want to stop it, I can’t.”
Her jaw drops as she gawks at me, and I stand in front of her.
“This is it. Me handing my heart to you, giving you the decision to stay here, kiss me again, or tell me to go fuck myself. It’s your call, and if you leave, I’ll never bring this up again. I won’t take Noah away from you. We can speak in passing and remain friends.”
I kneel on one knee, our eyes on the same level, and hers are glossy as they stare at me.
“It’s time we set this straight, and by setting it straight, I’m letting you make the decision. You have more to lose than I do. Me? I’m one hundred percent in. There’s no question that the feelings I have for you are much more than platonic. You make the call.”