Page 36 of Forever Wild

I smirk, loving that he is so affected by our conversation, but at the same time, definitely not ready to put my money where my mouth is on this one. And, since Jameson has made it clear this is a date, I know I need to make a few things clear. I mentally face-palm. This is going to be so awkward.

“Yup.” I pull Jameson to a stop in an alcove near the bratwurst stand we have been making our way to for a quick dinner. We—okay, I—have already gorged myself on movie snacks and don’t want too much more. Jameson, though, insists that dinner must take place, as it’s a key element to a real date.

“Look, I—” I roll my shoulders, preparing myself for the awkwardness that is undoubtedly about to come out of my mouth—“I would’ve told you this before today, but, while I’m really glad this is a date, I definitely didn’t come into it thinking it was a date.” FUUUCK. Why am I so bad at this?

Jameson rubs his thumb over the back of my hand, a slight frown of confusion on his face. “Okay. I know. But it is a date, right?”

“Yup. Totally a date.” I nod. “We are dating.” He starts to say something, but I hold up a hand. “And, as I would’ve usually mentioned to a guy—via a well-thought-out text, I might add…” I look into his eyes then, making sure he knows I’m blaming him for not letting me do this via text as I would’ve preferred. “I’m a little old school and don’t believe in sleeping with someone or, I suppose, welcoming their cock into my mouth.”

His thumb stops moving. “Wait, you don’t…you’re like…you’re waiting until…marriage?”

Oh no. This. This is why I need to be able to send this via text, so I can proofread! “Shit. No.” I can feel the look of slight terror on my face. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t finish my thought. Got distracted by including the part about your penis, which felt…big.” I smirk.

He chuckles, dropping my hand to run his through his hair. “Bryn, can you please tell me what you’re trying to tell me? Because I’m both very confused and slightly turned on right now, and I’m not sure how to handle that.”

“Oh.” My cheeks burn with embarrassment for making this so f-ing hard. “I was just trying to say that I need to take this slow. Not wait-until-we-are-married slow.” My eyes widen. “No, no! Not that I’m saying we are going to get married. Ugh. I promise I am not a stage-five clinger. Shit.” I cover my face with my hands. “I just want to take things slow and see how they go. If that’s not cool with you, I totally get it, and we can go back to friends. Or”—and I will fully admit I’m rambling now—“since we aren’t actually friends, just maybe friendly acquaintances who may or may not be dating. But if you’re interested in someone…easier? And I don’t mean that in a bad way. To each their own. Different strokes for different folks and all.” The amusement is back in his dark green eyes, his hands stuck casually in his pockets while he takes in this embarrassing monologue. “So I guess what I’m trying to say—in an obviously very clear way—is that if you’re looking for someone to sleep with tonight, we can definitely call off this whole dating thing. I can even be your wingwoman for the night. Help you find someone else.”

He’s scowling now. “You…you want to help set me up with someone else?”

Fuck. I definitely do not want to help him find some other girl. “Um. No. That was an insincere offer. I was just trying to give you an out.”

“Why would I want an out? I was the one who wanted this to be a real date.”

I nod. “True, but you wouldn’t be the first guy who decided to take me up on the offer of an easy out when he found out that I wanted to take things slow. Honestly, you’d be the fifth, though most of those guys were from dating apps, which are their own circle of hell.”

He grabs my hand again and starts walking us toward the brat cart on the corner. “Okay, well, those guys are shitty humans, and I am not one of them. I promise I have no expectations, though definitely have some aspirations, about a future sex life. I want to date you, whatever that looks like for us.”

I smile, still embarrassed, but so pleased by his answer.

An hour later, the Uber pulls back into my hotel. Jameson opens his door and hops out, sticking his head back in to ask the Uber to wait a minute while he says goodbye.

“Thanks for a great day, Jameo.”

“Best date I’ve had in a long time, Bryn.” He smiles at me sweetly and grabs my arm, tugging me into a hug.

He feels so good wrapped around me. I bask in his warmth and strong arms, subtly breathing in his cologne—some manly scent that reminds me of rainy days and trees.

I tilt my head back, a grin splitting my face as he reaches out and runs his thumb tenderly down my jaw. He leans in, his dark gaze focused on my lips, but stops before he kisses me, giving me the option of going the last few centimeters or not.

But it’s not really an option. Not when I feel so right in his arms, when his smile makes me light up from within. He may be asking for permission, but there is no way I’m not granting it.

I tilt my head up a little further and lean into his kiss, a jolt of desire pulsing through me as our lips meet and his hand moves to the small of my back, lightly stroking the skin right above the waistband of my joggers.

I pull away slowly, noting the lust in Jameo’s eyes and the grin spreading across his face.

I smile back and head toward the door to the hotel, turning back to offer a small wave. “Night, Jameo.”

Chapter eighteen

Jameson

Alexis and I dated for two years, and, honestly, I always thought we were happy. I thought we were in love. I enjoyed our time together. We had fun. We had amazing sex. That’s why, when she suggested she move in after dating for only six months, I thought, why not? She was always over at my house anyway. Might as well give her a key.

The relationship my parents have has always seemed like the ideal. It’s what I always wanted, at least before Alexis messed with my head. I wanted happy. I wanted content. I wanted Friday nights watching TV together while joking around and commiserating about our jobs.

Turns out, you can’t just jump straight in with nothing but fun times and good sex to act as your foundation. Sure, it’s a start, but pretty early on, that has to develop into trust, support, and love.

As luck would have it, Alexis was terrible at all three of those things. And the part that really gets me is that I should’ve known. I should’ve seen the signs—I should’ve listened when my family and friends blatantly pointed out the signs.

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