Page 11 of Home in Nevada

He bites his lip, still focused on the screen. “I just... Dude, how are you still into chicks?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I mean, that blows my fucking mind.”

“What?” I laugh, narrowing my brow in confusion. “Of course I’m into women. Aren’t you?”

“No.” Jamie snorts, turning to look at me. “I’m gay, Jeff. Obviously.”

My character dies on the screen, but I barely notice. I’m too busy staring at him, my brain struggling to catch up. “You’re... gay?”

Jamie raises an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. “Jeff... so are you. Or bi, at least. Why are you looking at me like you’ve never heard this before?”

The defensive shell I’d let down earlier snaps back into place, hardening like armor. What the hell is happening on this trip to Nevada?

“I’m not,” I say flatly.

Jamie laughs, shaking his head as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. He elbows me in the side, playful but firm. “Jeffrey Reed…Dude.We used to make out all the time. I thought when you left, you’d have to come to terms with it, like I did. I’m good with who I am, Jeff.”

My mind is spinning, memories flashing by like a slideshow I can’t pause. The nights in my car, the stolen kisses, the way he used to look at me. Was it just us? Or was Jamie with other guys too? The thought makes my stomach twist in a way I don’t understand.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” I say quickly. “I’m just not into guys, Jamie. I was a horny, stupid kid back then, okay?”

Jamie turns to look at me fully now, his expression softening with something like pity. He’s not buying my denial, and I can tell he’s holding back another laugh.

Before I can say another word, he looks down at my lips with hooded eyes and leans in, slow and deliberate, closing the distance between us. My breath catches in my throat, and I don’t move, like I’m frozen in place. He kisses me softly, his lips brushing against mine in a way that’s gentle but electric, sending shockwaves through my entire body. It’s not like the rough, frantic kisses we shared in high school—it’s so familiar, but different. It's tender, careful, like he’s giving me a chance to pull away.

But I don’t.

For a split second, I kiss him back.

And it feels like the ground is falling out from under me.

I close my eyes and sigh. I’m not mad that Jamie completely ignored my earlier refusal because of Tiffany. I’m not mad at all.

I’ve missed this—missed Jamie so much. God, I love this.

My self-control snaps like a thread. My heart pounds harder with every brush of Jamie’s lips. I grab a fistful of his hair at the back of his head and kiss him back, fiercely, desperately. What started as a sweet kiss turns heated as I force my tongue into his mouth, pushing him back against the couch.

Jamie smiles against my lips before kissing me again, and it makes my head spin. It’s hot as hell when he smiles like that while we make out. It feels familiar, nostalgic, like slipping into an old rhythm.

I’m losing my mind.

Suddenly, Jamie shifts, sitting up and pushing me down onto the couch with surprising force. I blink, taken aback, as he crawls over me and straddles my waist. The surge of confidence from Jamie catches me off guard, but I can’t help the smile spreading across my face, my thoughts a jumbled mess as I look up into his eyes.

My hands find his waist, my touch hesitant, nowhere near as bold as his. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I can’t stop myself from sliding my thumbs under the waistband of his sweatpants, brushing the soft skin there.

Jamie bends down to kiss me again, his lips red and swollen, the sight of it making my pulse race even faster. He trails kisses along my jaw, then down to my neck, nibbling on my ear. The hot breath against my skin makes me grip the fabric of his sweatpants on his thighs, my fingers digging in hard.

When he kisses me again, I grab his hair, pulling him closer, pressing our lips together with more urgency. Jamie lightly sucks on my bottom lip, his hips starting to move, creating friction that’s almost unbearable.

I’m throbbing inside my jeans, painfully hard. I glance down between us and catch sight of his arousal pressing against his sweatpants. The visual sends a rush of heat through my gut, lighting me on fire.

It’s not gross. Lucy was right, there’s nothing about this that feels wrong. Not with Jamie.

It’s fucking hot seeing him hard like this—hard for me—the way he’s sitting on top of me, grinding our hips together like we used to. It’s driving me insane. I’m practically vibrating with lust, unable to hold back anymore. I grab two handfuls of his ass, squeezing before raising one hand and bringing it down with a smack. The sound echoes in the apartment, and Jamie lets out a yelp, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Well, I’m convinced,” he says with a smirk, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re definitely not into guys.”

He stands up from the couch, leaving me stunned, still breathless.

“What?”

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