The Weekend

10. Jameson

She's in the shower, has been for the past fifteen minutes while I'm pacing my room and wondering if what we did was a mistake or not. She said she needed to think things over. But why? What's there to think about? It's us. We've been inseparable since we were five years old. I know her inside and out. And she knows me tenfold.

What the fuck is there to think about?

I open my luggage and take out the ring box I was supposed to give her on her twenty-first birthday. But instead, I fucked that up by lying to her about my problem. She right, if I came to her with what that cunt threatened, then I know Emery would have known what to do.

But I didn't because I was scared. Scared I'd lose our future.

I lost it anyway.

And now, I might get it back.

I hear the shower turn off and smile as I come back into her room and sit on the bed, placing the ring on her pillow.

"Jameson?" she calls. "I need a towel!"

I rummage through the closet and find a towel for her, then step into the washroom as she leans over the vanity and wipes the mirror. That ass is so much fuller, rounder.

"Breathtaking."

My eyes roam about her curves, so much more succulent than she was. I have something to grab onto, something to bite. Fucking perfection standing in front of me.

She reaches for the towel, but I hold it away from her, smiling teasingly as I do.

"I'm cold," she groans.

I stare at her skin pebbled with goosebumps and drag my eyes to meet hers. "I see that."

"Jameson—"

"Just let me take you in," I interrupt her. "This might be the last time I see you naked."

"Don't say that," she snaps, narrowing her eyes at me. "You're going to be fine."

"I meant with me and you."

She inhales sharply, snatching the towel from my hands and wrapping it around her chest. "I just need a second to process the idea of me and you again."

"You said you still loved me."

"I do."

"Then what's the problem?"

Taking her brush, she runs it through her hair twice, then stops to meet my gaze in the reflection of the mirror. "What would people think of me after all these years getting back with you after what they think you did?" A scoff leaves her and she continues brushing her hair. "I still don't know if it's true or not."

"What's your heart telling you?"

She sniffs, setting the brush down. "That I wasted nearly eight years being mad at you."

I kiss her shoulder, raking my teeth on her creamy skin. "We wasted enough time, Emmy."

A smile touches my lips and I take her by the hips, leading her to the bed. I kiss her shoulder and she nudges me off her with a smirk.

She runs the towel through her hair and opens the window a little, it's insanely hot in here compared to my room.

That's when she freezes, staring at the ring on her pillow. "The fuck is that?"

"Something I was going to give you many moons ago."

"Jameson—"

I kiss her, holding her shoulders. "Don't give me an answer now. It's way too soon, but just know this is our future. Me, you, and a shitload of happiness. We deserve it. The last eight years were wasted on nothing. We have to make up for it. All of it, baby. Me and you."

"But Jameson, did you come here to do this?"

I shake my head no. "I bought this on your birthday. This was your present, not that leather backpack."

She stares at the ring, running the towel through her hair again, and rises on her toes. "I need a minute to register all this."

"I know," I say, pulling her naked body against me as she presses her lips on mine.

My tongue does a sweep of her mouth when bangs move through the house; loud bangs coming from the front door.

She gasps, clutching me closer. "Jameson?"

"Stay here. Lock this door if something happens," I tell her and charge out of the room.

I don't care how much my chest tightens, nothing will ever happen to this woman.

The loud knocks strike again and I run to the fireplace, grabbing the poker stick. I can see Paul in the backyard, lighting the fire. Emily and Arthur are with him, too.

The bangs hit my eardrum and I head for the front door, the instinct to protect her taking hold. But something tells me it's nothing to protect her from. She's safe upstairs. It's just our friends. Just our friends.

Whipping the door open, relief sweeps through me when Randel and Regina barge in, Anastasia sitting in the car talking to someone over the speakers.

"Jesus, dude. You scared the shit out of me," I say, leaving the poker stick by the door.

Regina chuckles but shakes it off. "The roads are completely blocked. At least six damn trees were cut down. We tried to walk around them, but the trek was too icy."

Emily knocks on the glass door, waving when she spots us. Randel heads over to unlock it, shrugging off his jacket.

"Fuck, it's a cold one out today." She shivers, kicking off her boots and heading to the fire. "Any luck with you guys?"

Regina shakes her head, joining her at the fire. "It's too icy to do anything out there."

"It's too damn cold to do anything out there," Anastasia chimes in, pulling a blanket off the couch and wrapping it around her.

Paul comes in from the back door, sniffling. "There isn't anyone home across the way. House doesn't look like anyone has come to it since the last snowfall."

"No footprints or anything," Emily adds. "If we need firewood, they have a shitload, at least."

Regina slumps onto the couch, sputtering. "Well, there goes our hypothesis that whoever did that to the window is some stupid kid across the river."

I wipe a hand down my face, taking in the new information. "So, we're fucked."

"Basically," Arthur says, hanging his jacket on a hook by the front door.

"Anastasia was on the phone with the cops," Regina says, rubbing her hands together.

Anastasia nods, making herself a coffee. "And they said they're doing the best they can. They'll send someone when they can."

"When they can," Paul scoffs, rolling his eyes.

I'm about to make myself another coffee when I hear Emery yelp and something crashes upstairs.

"What's she doing up there?" Arthur asks, staring up the steps.

The sound of the lamp on her nightstand hits the floor and I buck it up the stairs, Arthur hot on my tail. The creep can't be in here, can he?

I skid and slip when I get to her door and my worst fear comes to life.