Page 36 of Home in Nevada

Jamie knocks on the window, his expression shifting to an amused, slightly exasperated smile as he gestures for me to open the door. I snap out of it, cursing under my breath as I fumble to hit the unlock button.

“Shit,” I mutter, finally unlocking it and leaning over to push the door open for him.

Jamie slides into the passenger seat, tossing his small bag into the back without a second thought. Before I can even get a word out, hell, before I can fully process that he’s sitting right there… he leans in, his hands cradling my face as his lips meet mine in a kiss that is anything but casual.

Oh… Okay. This is really happening, isn’t it?

I freeze, stunned, before melting into the kiss, his warmth and confidence leaving me breathless. His touch is warm, his grip firm yet gentle, and his lips... God, his lips are softer than I remembered, and they move against mine like he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as I have. My mind scrambles to catch up with my body, which is already leaning into him, my hands instinctively finding their way to his hoodie, gripping the fabric like it might keep me anchored in the storm of emotions crashing over me.

“Hi,” I manage to mumble when he finally pulls back, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jamie grins, his face close to mine. “Hi Jeff.”

The music thumps loudly through the car, the bass vibrating the seats. For a second, I wonder if it’s too loud, but the pounding beat seems to amplify the rush of excitement and desire coursing through me. Jamie kisses me again, his hands sliding over my chest and gripping my shirt.

I run my fingers through his hair, relieved he hasn’t cut it since the last time we saw each other. It’s just as soft, just as familiar. God, I’ve missed this.

A loud bang on the hood of the car jolts me back to reality. I nearly jump out of my seat as the lane attendant, red-faced and aggressive, yells at me to move.

“Asshole... I’m going, I’m going!” I shout, slamming my hand on the steering wheel before glancing at Jamie, who is laughing so hard he can barely breathe.

Jamie waves at the attendant with a playful grin, his lips still red from our kiss.

“Thanks for wrecking the fucking moment,” I mutter, throwing the car into gear and pulling out of the lane.

“Aw, come on, chill out. It’s kinda funny,” Jamie teases, brushing his hair back with a grin that makes my heart flutter. He pauses for a moment, glancing around the interior of the car. “This is such a trip.”

“What is?” I ask, my focus flicking between Jamie and the road, trying not to let my speeding give me away.

“Being in your car,” he says, still smiling, his brown eyes scanning every detail.

I blink, momentarily thrown. “Sorry, what...?”

Jamie bends over, laughing so hard he slaps my arm, the sound bubbling out of him like he can’t contain it. “Your car, Jeff,” he says through his laughter. “I haven’t sat in this car in forever. It’s like stepping back in time. Do you realize how crazy this is for me?”

He leans forward, his fingers grazing the dashboard as he takes it all in. His laugh softens into something more nostalgic, his expression lingering on the old CD booklet stuffed into the dash.

“Man, you even still have these?” he asks, flipping it open and pulling out a scratched jewel case with a mix CD label scrawled in Sharpie. “Didn’t I make this for you in high school?”

My chest tightens at the memory. “Yeah. It’s, uh... classic.”

Jamie shakes his head, chuckling as he slips the case back into the booklet. “Classic, huh? That’s one way of saying ‘embarrassing.’”

I can’t help but smile, the way his voice lights up with nostalgia making my chest ache in the best way. Watching him soak in the car’s familiar, worn-down details feels like seeing a part of our past come alive again… one I’d been too stupid to appreciate back then.

The last time Jamie was in my passenger seat flashes through my mind, uninvited. That day. The photos. The moment I decided to cut him out of my life instead of dealing with my own shit. I cringe at the memory, my chest tightening.

Jamie looks happier now, flipping through the old CDs and making jokes. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, unable to stop the rush of guilt. How has it taken me this long to realize how much he means to me? How could I have been so goddamn blind for so long, stuck in so much denial?

Jamie has consumed my world over the past month. I think about him constantly—at work, before bed when I call, in the shower... I’m completely addicted to him, and seeing him now, sitting in my car, feels like everything I’ve been missing is finally right in front of me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jamie asks, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing.

Shit. How long have I been staring?

I flip him off, trying to cover my embarrassment. Jamie smirks, grabbing my hand and kissing it gently.

“Thanks for picking me up,” he says softly, his voice carrying just enough sincerity to make my chest ache. God, he’s ruining me. “I’ve heard a lot about how driving out to this airport sucks.”

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