Page 37 of Home in Nevada

“Of course, it’s no problem,” I reply, giving his hand a quick squeeze before letting it drop back to my lap.

The freeway stretches out ahead of us, but my mind is nowhere near the road. All I can think about is Jamie… his laugh, the way his knee keeps brushing against mine, the soft hum of his voice as he sings along to the radio.

After what feels like an eternity weaving through traffic, we finally pull up to my apartment. The moment the car’s in park, my nerves kick in again. My hands feel clumsy as I grab my keys and head to the door, Jamie following close behind.

I fumble with the key, cursing under my breath when it slips from my fingers and hits the ground. “Shit.”

“Nice,” Jamie says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing, but the amused sparkle in his eyes is impossible to miss.

I glare at him as I scoop up the key and shove it into the lock. “Shut up.”

“Sure,” he replies, biting back a grin that only grows wider when I finally manage to push the door open.

He steps inside, his bag slung over one shoulder, and pauses just past the doorway. His gaze sweeps the room slowly, taking everything in with a quiet curiosity that makes my chest tighten. He moves casually, but there’s something about the way his eyes linger on the little details—the framed photos on the shelf, the half-folded blanket on the couch—that makes me feel like I’m under a spotlight.

Insecurity creeps in immediately, gnawing at me. Does it look too plain? Too messy? I should’ve cleaned more.

“I like your place,” Jamie says, his tone warm and genuine as his gaze finally lands back on me.

I cringe internally, waving him off. "Nah... Don’t lie, dude. Your place is way cooler."

"Well..." Jamie raises an eyebrow, smirking as he walks towards my room. "Money goes further in Nevada."

"...Apparently," I reply, laughing as he slaps me on the chest. I rub the spot where he smacked me, still grinning.

"Shut up, Jeff. Where am I staying?" Jamie asks, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. For a second, his expression shifts, like he’s unsure about something.

"You’re staying in my bed," I say with a grin, pointing toward the bedroom. The second the words leave my mouth, Jamie’s face turns bright red, and I bite back a laugh.

"Relax, I’ll sleep on the sofa," I add, giving him a quick pinch to his side. He lets out a nervous laugh and playfully slaps my hand away, but still frowns.

"Wait... Am I seriously on the couch? Do you owe me a hundred bucks?" Jamie’s tone is playful, but there’s a spark in his eyes that feels like he’s guarding himself for disappointment.

"Are you fucking kidding me?Youowemea hundred… and I want it in twenties," I shoot back, laughing as I nudge his shoulder lightly.

Jamie smirks and tosses his bag onto the bed before turning back to me. "Nah, no way… I don’t believe you. How do I know you’re telling the truth?"

A flicker of irritation hits me. I know he’s joking, but it still gets under my skin. Is it really so hard to believe I’ve been good? Doesn’t he know by now how much I’ve been looking forward to this? How serious I am about him?

"I guess it depends on what kind of guy you think I am," I say, my tone more serious than I mean it to be.

Jamie pauses, giving me a curious look as he casually grabs a beer from the fridge. "What do you mean?"

"You really think I couldn’t go a month without messing around, knowing you’d be here?" I can’t stop the words spilling out. "Jamie, I haven’t been with anyone… I haven’t done anything except work my nine to five, and talk to you and hang with Lucy. If I screwed up, you don’t think I’d have told you? You seriously have no idea—"

"Okay, okay, I believe you," Jamie interrupts, his smile softening. His cheeks flush pink, probably because I’m word vomiting like I always do when I’m nervous, and the tension in my chest eases just a little.

I grin, grabbing the cold beer from his hand and setting it on the counter before stepping closer to him. There’s barely any space between us now. I love catching him off guard… it doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but when it does, it’s totally fucking worth it.

"Jamie, you’re so worth waiting for," I say, the words spilling out before I can stop them.

His face flushes even deeper, and he hugs me… probably to hide his reaction. Jamie’s never been one to blush easily, and I’m pretty sure he’s setting a record today. I decide not to tease him about it, instead wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

I love the way his arms fit snugly around my waist, his hold firm but gentle, like he’s afraid to let go. His head rests against my chest, and I can feel the soft strands of his hair brushing against my neck, the warmth of his breath through my shirt. It feels so natural, so right, like this is where he’s meant to be.

His body molds perfectly against mine, his heartbeat steady and calming, echoing against my own. The scent of him I missed so much since the last time I saw him—clean, warm, unmistakably Jamie—fills the space between us, grounding me.

It makes me feel invincible, like I could take on anything as long as he’s here. Like I could carry the weight of the world if it meant keeping him this close.

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