Page 22 of Riding Jamie

“Do you want to go home for the holidays?” she asks. “A break in school is coming up soon. I could talk to your uncle and get you some time off, and we can book you a ticket home right now if you want.”

Relief slams into me at the thought of going home, which is all the answer I need.

“I don’t want special treatment,” I argue weakly.

“You’re my niece,” she reminds me, laughing quietly. “You’re getting special treatment whether you like it or not. Besides, half of the interns go home over the holidays. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for you to take a break, too.”

I still hesitate, feeling guilty about wanting to say yes. I signed up for this—Iwantthis—and I shouldn’t just run away when things get hard. But if both Alli and my aunt are telling me to be gentle with myself, maybe it’s not as ridiculous as it feels.

“If things are awkward with Shane, I can talk to your uncle about moving him to a different department,” she adds.

“No,” I say firmly, shaking my head. “He didn’t do anything wrong. If I’m still uncomfortable when I get back after the holidays, I’ll talk to Uncle Ricky about finding another partner.”

My eyes are finally dry enough that I can see pride shining in my aunt’s eyes, and she leans down to press a kiss to the top of my head.

“So should we go look at flights, then?” she asks, grinning warmly at me.

I manage a passable imitation of a laugh, straightening up so I can wipe my face free of my tears.

“I should talk to Uncle Ricky before I book anything,” I say. “I don’t want to cause problems at the office.”

Aunt Kathy stands, holding her hand out to me and smiling. There’s mischief and adoration in her eyes, and I let her pull me up off the bed to stand on slightly unsteady legs.

“Your uncle will figure things out,” she promises. “You don’t need to worry about work right now. Come on, let’s go take a look. You don’t have to book anything right now, but we can at least see what’s available, right?”

I chuckle, knowing that she’ll talk me into booking something tonight anyway. Before she can lead me out of the room, I pull her into a hug, whispering my gratitude into her shoulder. She rubs down my back soothingly, squeezing me tight.

“I’ll always take care of you, Oakie,” she says. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Chapter Eleven

OAKLEY

I wakeup with a killer headache, still wearing my work clothes from yesterday. It takes me a minute to realizewhyI feel so drained. Thoughts of Jamie are heavy and slow, and I kind of want to just close my eyes and go straight back to sleep. My body feels like a bag of bricks as I try to trudge my way through my own thoughts.

The conversation I had with Aunt Kathy last night still sits heavily in my head, and I mull over the idea of going home.

It seems like the right thing to do, maybe even the only thing to do if I want to figure everything out between me and Jamie. I guess I just don’t want to get my hopes up. If I go back home, there’s going to be a part of me that expects Jamie and I to get back together. Maybe it would be better to be home if I find out that’s never going to happen. At least I’ll have my siblings and friends there to keep me sane if the shit really hits the fan.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I glance over at it. The battery is almost dead, and I scowl as I immediately decline Bo’s call. I’m not awake enough to deal with him yet. The screen staysbright, a picture of Phoebe and me at the fair a few years ago set as my background.

Phoebe.

I don’t think I’m ready to talk to anyone about the whirlwind of conflicted feelings about Jamie in my head right now. I should at least tell her that I’m coming home for the holidays, though. I’m still half asleep as I unlock my phone, debating whether to call her or just shoot her a text.

If she hears my voice, she’ll know something’s wrong, and there will be no getting out of an explanation.

Text it is, then.

I swipe over to our messages, silently vowing to call her later, when I’ve got a better hold on myself.

Lake trip over winter break? I’m coming back for the holidays and I’ll die if we don’t get at least a day alone.

I shoot off the text, tossing my phone back down the bed beside me with a yawn.

She’s probably not awake yet—I remember her telling me that she specifically scheduled all of her classes so she wouldn’t have to get up before noon. I’m sure she’ll spam me with emojis and exclamation marks as soon as she checks her phone.

It’ll be good to see her, no matter what else happens when I go home.

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