Page 63 of Home in Nevada

Monday comes too soon, and Jamie has to go back to work.

I’ve decided I’m spending the day immersed in video games until he gets back. I’m already getting a head start in bed while Jamie gets dressed, my controller clutched in my hands as I half-watch him move around the room. I still have until Wednesday before I have to fly back.

Home…

The word feels strange in my mind. It’s hard to reconcile that this cozy, intimate routine we’ve fallen into isn’t going to last. This is still rare—something I can’t have all the time. We’re about to be separated again, for who knows how long.

We’ve talked about it a few times over the past couple of days, always circling back to the same points. I keep telling myself it’s going to be fine, trying to believe it with every repetition.

Jamie can’t leave Nevada. He has his reasons. He doesn’t think he could land a better job in LA after leaving the casino behind. He’s probably right. Jamie’s good at what he does, and casino management isn’t exactly a transferable skill in LA’s job market. As for me, my job is... well, it’s a job. Honestly, I don’t care much about it anymore. It’s just a monotonous daily grind back in LA, something I could take or leave. I’m not anybody over there.

But, fuck, I hate living in Nevada.

Our conversations about the future always end in laughter, reminiscing about all the bullshit we dealt with growing up here. It never gets deeper than that, and I’ve figured we’d work it out eventually. I’ve been able to brush it aside, but as my stay winds down, my stomach twists every time I think about what we’re supposed to do to end this long-distance setup.

I hope Jamie will be okay with it, even temporarily. But Jamie’s not exactly the type of guy who thrives on long-distance relationships. He’s all about presence—about being there. He’s the kind of person who needs to see you, touch you, hear your laugh in person. Texts and calls don’t cut it for him, and I can’t blame him for that. He doesn’t do well with guessing games or those awkward stretches of silence that come with bad signals and time zones. Jamie craves connection—the kind you can only get face-to-face—and without it, I think he’d start to feel like I was slipping away. Like we were slipping away.

That’s what scares me most. If the distance starts to eat at him, I don’t know if I’d be able to patch it up from miles away.

Jamie steps out of the bathroom, his white dress shirt and black pants looking like they were tailored specifically for him. His red tie hangs loose around his neck, swaying slightly as he fiddles with it, his focus fixed on the mirror while he strides into the bedroom.

And just like that, my anxious thoughts scatter.

His hair is neatly brushed to the side, every strand perfectly in place, catching the light just enough to make it seem unfair. The crisp, clean lines of his shirt emphasize the strong, steady breadth of his shoulders, while the tailored pants hug his hips and legs in a way that makes it almost impossible to look anywhere else.

It’s not just that he looks good—it’s that he looks effortlessly good, like he stepped out of some magazine spread and into my world just to throw me completely off my game. I’ve seen him in everything from sweatpants to swimsuits, but this? This is something else entirely.

For a second, I forget how to breathe. How does someone manage to be this beautiful?

"Do you need pizza money, and should I leave the doctor's number for you?" Jamie jokes, his voice light as he glances my way.

I blink, still dumbfounded by how good he looks. "Wow. Holy shit, you look… adorable."

Jamie freezes mid-step as he continues to get ready for work, his brow furrowing in mock offense, though a laugh is already bubbling up. "Adorable? Are you kidding me?"

I grin, pausing my game and leaning back on my elbows. "Yeah. Adorable. Like, stupidly adorable."

"Excuse you," Jamie retorts, smirking now. "I’mhandsome as fuck,thank you very much."

"Sure, sure," I say, smirking as I motion for him to come closer.

Jamie shakes his head, but there’s a playful smile tugging at his lips as he approaches the bed. "You’re stupid sometimes, you know that?"

I reach out, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him close, pressing my cheek against his hip. "You look amazing, Jamie. That’s what I meant. Adorable was just the first word that popped into my head, okay? Don’t overthink it."

Jamie chuckles, soft and a little embarrassed, the sound vibrating through him. As I look up, I watch him deftly tie his tie without even glancing down, the motion so smooth it feels unfair. I don’t know how he does it. If it were me, I’d probably give up and invest in a clip-on. Who has time to figure out a real tie? He makes it look effortless.

Unable to resist, I lean forward and playfully lick against Jamie’s crotch, just to get his attention. I feel his hand in my hair almost immediately, fingers threading through the strands as he gently pushes my head back.

"Whoa, no… These pants are expensive, dude."

I laugh, the sound rich and full as I playfully tug on his waist. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, Jeff, I’m serious." His voice is firm, steady—but the smile tugging at his lips gives him away.

His hands stay in my hair, fingers moving gently, massaging my scalp like I’m some kind of spoiled puppy. And honestly? I’m not mad about it. Not even a little. If he wanted, I’d bark for him. Hell, I’d beg. I’d buy him a whole wardrobe of new pants if it meant he’d keep touching me like this.

But right now I just close my eyes and melt under his hands, every bit of tension slipping away.

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