Page 8 of Home in Nevada

It’s strange. I used to soak up the attention, bask in the noise like it was my fuel. When did that start shifting for me? When did the chaos stop being fun and start feeling like a trap?

I shake the thought off, but it lingers like a bad taste in my mouth. My mind drifts back to our senior year, the end-of-year awards. Jamie was voted Most Likely to Succeed. No surprise there. Everyone knew he’d do something great. He had that spark, that ambition that made people believe in him. I remember watching him up on stage, grinning ear to ear, and thinking that he looked like he belonged there, like the world was already bending toward him, ready to hand him everything he wanted.

I can’t help but wonder now. What’s he doing with his life? Is he happy? Is he out there, living up to that superlative in ways I never imagined? I feel this warm, affectionate ache in my chest, a mix of pride and longing. I want to know everything, but the thought also terrifies me.What if he’s changed completely?What if I don’t even recognize the person he’s become?

And then there’s what I was voted for: Biggest Flirt. The memory makes me smile, but there’s an emptiness to it now, like it was all part of a character I played back then. I can still picture the photo—me, throwing up a peace sign, grinning like I didn’t have a care in the world. It felt like a badge of honor back then, like I’d won something just by being the guy everyone wanted to be around.

But now? It feels hollow. What the hell was I flirting with back then? Did I really care about any of it? Did anyone see the real me, or was it all just a performance?

I shake my head, pushing the thought away as we turn down the snack aisle. I’m barely holding it together, counting down the seconds until we can get out of this place. That’s when I hear it—a voice cutting through the noise, low and familiar, like a note struck perfectly in tune.

Jamie.

The way he says my name is like it’s woven into the fabric of who I am. It hasn’t changed since the day we met—playful, hopeful, soft. It wraps around me, and for a split second, I feel seen in a way I’ve spent years trying to forget. It stirs something deep, something I’ve buried, something that feels too big to look at directly.

It’s like my body knows before my brain catches up, every nerve standing at attention.

His voice slices through the chaos, warm and steady, wrapping around me like a lifeline. It’s like being hit by a wave of memory, like every late-night conversation and stolen glance is crashing back all at once. My chest tightens, and the ground feels like it’s slipping out from under me.

I freeze, my heart pounding in my ears. I turn around, bracing myself, and there he is—standing just a few feet away, looking like he’s stepped straight out of my memories.

His blonde hair is longer, sweeping down over his forehead in that effortlessly messy way he used to hate. He’s smiling, wide and genuine, and there’s this brightness to his face I wasn’t expecting. He looks almost... younger. Or maybe I’m just seeing him through the haze of memory, colored by everything I’ve tried to forget. He seems shorter than I remember, but that’s probably because I’ve somehow grown since graduation. We used to be eye-to-eye, but now I have to look down a little, and it feels strangely intimate, like I’m seeing him from a new angle I’m not sure how to handle.

Jamie’s still lean and toned, his jawline sharper than before, but there’s this softness to his expression, the same boyish charm that’s always been there. My heart’s racing so fast I can feel it in my throat. I’m staring, trying to take in every detail like my brain can’t process seeing him after all this time.

It’s been four years, but when his brown eyes meet mine, it feels like no time has passed at all. The distance, the silence, the years apart—they vanish in an instant. It’s like falling into a memory, and I’m not sure if I’m relieved or terrified. I’ve built walls around these feelings for so long, but they’re crumbling fast, and I can’t stop it.

“Hi,” I manage, my voice coming out flat and breathless. That’s all I’ve got.Great. Real smooth, Jeff.

Lucy’s wide-eyed next to me, barely holding back a laugh. Of course she knows. She called this back when we were sitting in the damn car on the way in. I elbow her hard, shooting her a glare. She smirks but gets the hint and steps away, still grinning like she’s enjoying the show.

Jamie watches her go, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “You brought a girl home,” he says, shaking his head with that familiar, teasing smile. “She’s gorgeous... Nice work, Reed. Though I’ve got to say, don’t you usually go for brunettes? The bleach blonde hair is throwing me off.”

Heat creeps up my neck. “That’s Lucy... We’re just friends,” I say quickly, almost tripping over the words. “And she’s a natural brunette, she’s just a liar.”

Jamie’s grin widens, and he bites his bottom lip like he’s holding back a laugh. “Good to know you’re still an ass,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“What’d I do?!” I protest, but I can feel the smile tugging at my own lips.

“Blondes are better anyway,” he shoots back, eyes glinting with that playful spark I remember too well. “You’re missing out.”

There’s this beat of silence between us, like the air’s gone electric. He’s watching me, his gaze steady and knowing, like he’s reading every thought in my head. I can see it in his eyes, he doesn’t buy the ‘just friends’ line for a second. He’s always been able to see through my bullshit.

Lucy was right. Those old feelings hit me like a freight train. I’ve spent years trying to bury them, but standing here now, looking at Jamie’s smile, it’s like every defense I’ve built is crumbling. That same genuine, warm smile that made me feel like the only person who mattered. I can’t help it—before I even know what I’m doing, I take a step forward and wrap my arms around him.

Jamie hugs me back, and it’s like the world narrows down to just this moment, just the two of us. His grip is tight, almost desperate, his arms wrapping around me like he’s afraid I’ll slip away. He presses against me, close enough that I can feel his breath warm against my collarbone. My pulse is pounding in my ears, drowning out everything else. There’s this electric charge between us, this crackling energy that makes the hairs on my arms stand up. I’m hyper-aware of every point of contact: his touch, his warmth, the way his fingers dig into my back like he’s anchoring himself.

“What have you been eating?” Jamie laughs against my chest, the sound muffled but light. “You’re huge.”

I blink, taken aback. “What?”

“You’re like seven feet tall now!” he says, pulling back slightly to look up at me, his eyes crinkling with that same playful glint. “What the hell happened?”

I chuckle, resting my chin on his head without thinking, ignoring the way my heart is still racing. “I’m notthattall.”

Jamie’s laugh vibrates through me, but when he pulls away, I feel this sharp pang of disappointment, like I’ve lost something.

Did I want that hug to last longer? Is that weird?

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