Page 51 of Forever Wild

Becca’s cheeks turn pink, and she focuses back on her computer screen. “Nothing. I just don’t like that I was trying to do something kind, and he just assumed the worst in me.”

“Okaaay. Well, I’ll make sure he understands how rude he was.” I shoot my sister a look, but she just shrugs. I guess she doesn’t know what’s going on with Becca either.

Taking the hint, Izzy changes the subject. “So, Bryn, have you decided what you’re going to do for Thanksgiving this year?”

“You mean after you all decided to go to Europe for the week, knowing I can’t be out of the country on fucking Black Friday?”

“Yep. That’s exactly what I mean. Did you find any time during your sex dungeon weekend to ask Jameson what he is going to be up to?”

I throw a pen at her head. “What the fuck is wrong with you? How do you hear that we spent the weekend together in a suite at a Vegas hotel and somehow that gets changed to a sex dungeon? Jeez Louise. And no, I did not casually drop the fact that I’m without Thanksgiving plans because my family are assholes who couldn’t travel to Scotland literally any other week of the year.”

She, too, turns back to her computer. “Testy, testy. Seems to me like a normal thing to mention to your boyfriend—sex dungeon or not.”

“Ugh. You are the worst,” I say, before opening my laptop, tucking my AirPods into my ears, and getting back to work.

Two hours later, my phone rings with a FaceTime call from Jameo. After he came in second to JT last Sunday, our celebration had gotten cut short by my flight to Vancouver for work. Despite his repeated requests for me to ditch work and come to Florida with him, I was needed in Canada, and there was no way I could miss out on that prime work opportunity to go play hooky with him, no matter how much I wanted to.

I was surprised when, ten minutes after arriving at my hotel in Vancouver, Jameo called me via FaceTime. He was waiting for one of his private pilots to arrive to prepare the plane and fly him to his house. We spent over an hour talking about everything, from our histories, to his tournament, to what his schedule looks like for the next few months.

Because he needs to get more FedEx Cup points, the end of his year is busy. But, according to Jameson, that shouldn’t keep us from having a normal relationship where you talk every day and know what’s going on in each other’s lives, so we’ve both made an effort this week to stay in pretty regular communication. We typically text off and on throughout the day, and then we FaceTime at night.

Today was the first day of his tournament in Houston, and, according to my ESPN alert, he finished his round about an hour ago.

“Hey, Jameo,” I answer, raising my phone so he can see my face.

I see both Becca’s and Izzy’s heads lift, unabashedly eavesdropping on our call.

“Hey, B. How’s Wild Bluffs?”

I turn the camera around, giving him a view of the whole office. “Terrible company, but otherwise not so bad.”

Izzy butts in, “You are welcome to stop treating our office like your personal WeWork any time you want. It really won’t hurt our feelings.”

“Hey, Izzy. Hi, Becca.” Jameson waves from my phone screen.

Iz holds up two fingers, flashing him a peace sign, while Becca opts for a one-fingered salute—the middle-finger kind.

I turn Jameson back around before telling him, “Becca is still upset about how big of a dick you were to her when she tried to talk to you out at the golf course.”

Becca throws a pen of her own at me. “I told you I didn’t need you to mention it to him!”

Looking apologetic, Jameson asks me to turn him back around before saying, “I’m glad she did mention it, though, Becca. I should’ve apologized to you when I came to ask for Bryn’s number. I was a complete dick. Sorry.”

Shrugging, she replies, “It’s really not a big deal. But for the record, I was definitely not hitting on you.”

Turning him to face me again, I say, “Well, that was fun.”

“Hey, Jameo,” Izzy yells from across the room. “We were just talking about you.” I can tell she’s scheming something by the evil glint to her eye, and I most certainly don’t want to stick around to find out what it is. I stand, shoving my laptop back into my bag.

“All good things, I hope?” he yells back.

I’m almost out the door but don’t make it out in time before Izzy responds, “Just wondering what you were up to for Thanksgiving, since B is home alone and all.”

He watches my face closely as I push my way out the door, shooting Iz the bird over my shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were home alone for Thanksgiving? Where will your family be?”

“They are all going on a weeklong vacation to Scotland and Ireland. However, I have to be around on Black Friday because it’s a huge day for our online platform, so it doesn’t make sense for me to go with them.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?”

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