𝔹𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ➂

𝟜𝟛.

For days I had thought about what had happened with Jamie, well, with everyone on the night of his birthday. I guess that would be my main problem though; it all just kept going back to Jamie. It just kept circling around he and I, like a forbidden sphere of affection. Every touch and caress was singed in my brain, burning in the back of it. I wonder if Jamie had known all along that he'd be the only one to put out the flames; the ones that he'd ignited in me.

The thought that Jamie could just be a friend anymore, one that I could sleep with too, was rather ridiculous. I had finally become tired of hiding, tired of pretending, tired of trying to convince myself I didn't feel anything romantically for him; like my heart didn't thump irregularly every time he was around me.

Even after all of the things we've been through this past year, it was still him. I've started to think that from here on out it won't be anybody but him. It was petrifying to think that maybe I was the only one thinking these things though. As long as I've known Jamie he's always had that other non-committal side to him; Bright.

He had promised that for me he'd be better than Bright and he had been. In all honesty, he continues to be, even with Adri. The affection and attention he'd shown me the other night was proof of that. The moment his lips found mine I was all he'd seen, at least that's how it felt.

Regardless of the possibility he may or may not want anything serious with me again, I couldn't help but feel guilty for wanting it myself. Guilty of also having endless thoughts of Jamie's lips on mine, his tongue on me, inside of me. Then the other very intimate things, in intimate places. They just rolled around in my lust-filled skull over and over again.

My brain had even conjured images of our first time together. Our drunken night, the one that had derailed our entire friendship into uncharted and messy territory. The whole reason for why we are where we are now; for all these intense feelings.

It was because of all of the previous that I had made up my mind to call things off with Rhoen. The reality of it is, this isn't fair to either of us. Going to bed every night with another man in the back of my mind became tiresome. Keeping up a facade of happiness, when longing for something else, had done a number on me.

I had made a special dinner for us that night and was going to tell Rhoen over it, but I didn't. I'd completely chickened out after he'd laid out his stressful day for me. Then I was going to when we were in the bedroom later that evening, the scene of the crime, as you will. But the words had escaped me then as well as he sighed his day away irritatedly.

When I'd finally had a moment of clarity, his phone went off. All thoughts of telling him went out the window after that. That night was a blur of him rushing around and just barely telling me what happened before leaving. It was a reminder of how much more Rhoen had experienced than me, some of which, I was not ready for in the least.

I hadn't known where else to go tonight after spending my day in a state of distress. I didn't want to be alone in a giant home with nothing but my thoughts. The ones that went back and forth in my brain anxiously like they were in a nonstop rocking chair.