Page 29 of Forever Wild

I push out of the car, taking a few steps toward the front entrance before turning back to wave as Jameson pulls away. The glow from his phone is lighting up his face inside the car, and as soon as I enter my hotel, his text buzzes on my phone.

Jameson

Thanks again for dinner. I had a great time.

Me

Me too. And anytime. Truly.

Chapter fourteen

Jameson

I push into the suite JT and I decided to share, kicking off my shoes by the door. I walk into the living space to find JT sprawled on the couch, his phone in one hand.

“How was the date?”

“It was…fun?”

“Why are you phrasing it like a question?”

“I dunno. I guess I’ve just never really had that much fun out with a woman before.” I sink on the couch next to him. “Plus, she bought dinner. So I kinda feel like a jackass about making her pay for our first date.”

“I’m sorry, I think I’m behind. I called it a date to see if I could get you spun up. You’ve now called it a date twice, and I’m pretty sure you’re being serious.”

I let out a groan, dropping my head to the back of the couch. “Fuck. I don’t know what to do.”

“You mean about the fact that you went on a date with someone after so vehemently stating it wasn’t a date? Is that what you mean?”

“When did you learn the word vehemently?” I ask.

“Oh, likely around the same time you were out on a date. I thought you weren’t allowed to date.”

“Yeah. Erica and Jon have both been all over me about focusing on golf.” I pick at a nonexistent stain on my shirt. “And I must’ve really pissed some god off, because we ran into Erica while getting ice cream—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her eat sugar before.”

“Do you think she’s tracking your phone?”

It’s not impossible, but it does seem pretty unlikely, even if I could’ve used a babysitter a time or two in the last year.

“Nah.” I consider it some more. “I don’t think so, at least.”

“Did she yell at you?”

“No. She’s much too aware of my public image for that. She did send me a text message on my way home, though.”

“And? What did it say?”

I pull my phone out of my pocket, reading the message aloud, “Jameson Walker. I’m having a hard enough time convincing your current sponsors not to drop you, let alone find you a new one. You can’t be seen dating random women.”

To be fair to Erica, the photos of me leaving the bars, clearly inebriated, with a different woman every night kept her busy for months last fall. I’m not sure how much money we ended up paying to keep the worst ones from hitting the gossip sites—it was worth it to keep my sponsors happy.

“Not great,” JT replies. “So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Fuck. Just keep texting with Bryn? Erica can’t get mad about that. Plus, it’s not like we’re in the same place that often. Maybe it won’t be that bad.”

“Really? You came in here looking like you were a kid who just found out they were going to Disney World. You think you’d be happy with just being her casual friend?”

I understand why he’s questioning this. Jameson of twenty-four hours ago wanted nothing to do with dating anyone, but that Jameson hadn’t realized the joy, the contentment, the peace that I experienced this past week were just a sliver of what it is like being fully in Bryn’s presence. No, I don’t want to just be texting buddies with her. I want her to be mine. I need her to be mine. And making someone yours requires dating—or kidnapping, I suppose.

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