Page 83 of Home in Nevada

“I know I am,” I shoot back, holding his stare and tugging my shorts a little lower, just enough to tease. “You’re the one who keeps watching.”

“Oh, I’m watching,” he says, his voice dipping lower, rougher. “And if you’re trying to drive me insane, congrats, it’s working.”

My heart’s hammering now, my palms clammy against the waistband of my shorts. It’s a game, but there’s something more underneath it—a heat, a pull. I take a step back, still grinning, and toss a wink at the camera. “Good to know. Anything else you’d like, Your Highness?”

Jamie exhales sharply, shaking his head, but his smile doesn’t waver. “I’m trying really hard not to make a list of directions for you right now.”

“Go ahead,” I tease, dragging the fabric lower inch by agonizing inch, stopping just before it gets interesting but pulling the waistband taut, stretching it as tight as it’ll go. I know exactly what I’m doing, and judging by the way Jamie’s eyes narrow, so does he. “I’m all ears.”

He groans, scrubbing a hand over his face, and I catch a glimpse of pink on his cheeks. “You’re an idiot.”

“And yet,” I counter, pointing at the screen, “you’re still watching me pretty closely there, Williams. So who’s the idiot, really?”

“You,” he fires back immediately, but his voice softens at the edges. There’s something in his eyes now, something deeper than the teasing, and it makes my throat tighten.

“Jamie,” I say quietly, stepping closer to the phone and placing my hands on the counter, the playfulness fading just a little.

His gaze meets mine through the screen, steady and open, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.

“You make me feel like this... like I can just be me,” I admit, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “No one else does that. No one else gets me like you do.”

Jamie’s expression softens, his smirk slipping away entirely. “Jeff...”

“I mean it,” I say, my chest tightening. “I don’t know what this is—us, this... thing between us—but I know it’s real. I feel it every time I talk to you, every time I see you. And I don’t want to lose it.”

His lips part like he’s about to say something, but I press on.

“I want you here,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper now. “Not just on the phone. Not just... like this. I want you with me. I want you to come visit, see my world, be part of it. Be part of me.”

Jamie’s eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, the only sound is the faint hum of the connection. Then he exhales, his shoulders relaxing as his lips curve into a small, genuine smile.

“Okay,” he says softly, his voice steady but warm. “I’ll take time off… I'll come visit. Just tell me when, Jeff.”

“Soon,” I say, the word slipping out before I even think about it. “As soon as you can.”

Jamie nods, and for the first time in forever, it feels like I’m not chasing something impossible. Like maybe I’m finally where I’m supposed to be—with him.

Chapter 20

The one where Jeff tests the waters.

Afewweekslater,Jamie finally comes to visit when he can actually take time off work.Finally.He’s been traveling nonstop for what feels like forever—some business leadership conferences or whatever. But now, he’s hit pause and says he’s planning to stick around for a bit.

The second he tells me, I’m like,“Cool, I’ll book your flight for this weekend.”

Of course, he says no—then books it himself later that night. Typical Jamie. Neurotic control freak.

I’m starting to think Jamie’s got me pegged as some kind of sugar baby with the way he insists on paying for everything. Like, come on… I could’ve afforded the flight myself. Sure, it wouldn’t have been first class with champagne and those fancy hot towels or whatever, but... I could’ve made it work. I’m notthatbroke.

When the day finally comes, I’m grinning like a total idiot the whole drive to the airport. It’s been way too long since we’ve done something like this, just the two of us. The only downside? My car’s air conditioning crapped out right as summer decided to crank up the heat. I still haven’t gotten around to fixing it because, honestly, spending money on this old junker feels pointless. Jamie doesn’t seem to care, though. He gives me a hard time about it, sure, but with the windows rolled down and his hair whipping around in the wind, he looks... happy. Genuinely happy.

I’m taking him surfing. Or, more accurately, I’m surfing, and Jamie’s playing photographer. He brought his camera, of course—he never goes anywhere without it—and the plan is for him to take pictures while I try not to wipe out.

As soon as we hit the beach, Jamie practically bolts. I barely get a word out before he’s tossing his white shirt onto the passenger seat and taking off with his camera, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. I watch him dash down the shore, already snapping shots like he’s on some kind of mission, and I can’t help but laugh. God, I’ve missed the hell out of him.

I wrestle my surfboard out of the car, banging it against the doors in the process. Great, more scratches. Perfect. Then I wrestle my wetsuit on, which is no small feat. The first time I put this thing on a few weeks ago, it was a bit loose, but I’ve been taking care of myself a little better lately. Now? I fill it out again, like I used to. It feels good, like maybe I’m finally starting to get back tome.

With my board tucked under my arm, I jog toward the water, dropping my bag onto a towel in the sand. I glance around, trying to spot Jamie. He’s nowhere to be seen. Where the hell did he go?

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