Page 38 of Home in Nevada

"Just so you know, you’re not allowed to leave my apartment now," I murmur into his hair. “Like… ever. You’re trapped here.”

Jamie laughs softly against my chest, "Yeah, sure..."

I kiss the top of his head, inhaling the clean, warm scent of him. God, I probably seem like a total creep, but I can’t help it.

Jamie steps back, fumbling with his back pocket before pulling out his wallet. He flips it open, sifting through a handful of cash.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, laughing as I watch him.

When it hits me, I shake my head. "Dude, stop. You don’t actually have to give me a hundred bucks."

"A bet’s a bet," Jamie insists, still going through his wallet.

"Can I trade then?" I ask, grinning.

Jamie looks up, confused. "Trade what?"

"My prize," I say, my voice dropping just enough to make it teasing as I let my gaze trail over him suggestively. His face flushes again, a deep, satisfying red that only makes him look more endearing. Holy shit, I’m making him set a record. The blush creeps all the way to his ears, and I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face at how adorably flustered he looks.

He stuffs his wallet back into his pocket, shaking his head like he’s trying to brush off the moment. "I’m not a prize, Jeff. Stop..."

"Yeah, you are," I reply, tugging him closer by the waistband of his sweats, the movement slow and deliberate.

"Stop," Jamie laughs, shoving me away with a playful push, his hands lingering on my chest for just a second too long before he backs off.

He turns and grabs another beer from the fridge, the cool metal glinting under the light as he hands it over to me.

"You know," he says, popping the tab on his own can, "I’m not like that."

"Like what?" I ask, cracking open the beer, watching as his expression shifts into that familiar mix of teasing and seriousness that always gets to me.

“You’re not even going to take me out to dinner first? At least wine and dine me before trying to get my pants off, Jeff," Jamie says, his voice dripping with mock indignation, but the smirk playing at his lips betrays him.

I scowl playfully, taking a sip of my beer. The carbonation fizzes against my tongue, but I barely notice it… I’m too busy staring at the way his smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Wow," I deadpan.

"What?!" Jamie laughs, his eyes lighting up with pure amusement as he watches me try to keep my cool.

"Okay, okay," I say, shaking my head between sips. "I’ll wine and dine you. Is there anything else your little heart desires before you find out where I’d begin with you?"

Jamie tugs at his ear, his face still tinged pink, and hesitates for a second before finally muttering, "No."

I lean back against the counter, smirking. "This wasn’t originally part of the bet, and I feel fucking cheated. Just so you know."

Jamie feigns surprise, his hand flying to his chest dramatically. "I just can’t believe you actually kept your pants on for me."

The tables turn instantly. My face burns as the words sink in. "Shut up, asshole," I blurt out, but the heat creeping up my neck gives me away.

Jamie bursts into laughter, the sound warm and unrestrained, echoing through the room as I try to recover what little dignity I have left.

Shaking my head, I pull out my phone, grabbing his hand and guiding him over to the couch. He follows, settling in beside me, his beer in hand.

"What are you doing?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, his voice full of playful suspicion.

"Making a dinner reservation somewhere fancy," I say, scrolling through options. "Since apparently, you’re high maintenance these days."

Jamie grins, the kind of grin that lights up his whole face, and I have to bite back my own smile.

The line connects, and someone answers on the other end. I quickly book us a reservation at six for a place I know he’ll love. It’s pricier than I’d usually go for, but as I glance at Jamie, lounging next to me and giving me that look… soft, amused, and full of something that makes me feel more than I’ve felt in so long. I know it’s worth it.

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