Page 86 of Home in Nevada

Is that why he’s been so quiet? I don’t get it. It’s still just me, but he’s acting like I’m someone completely new.

Then Jamie stands up and straddles me in one smooth motion, his hands pressing firmly against my chest, pinning me down against the towel that’s barely keeping the hot sand at bay. My breath catches, my chest tightening as I stare up at him. He leans down, close enough that I can feel the heat of his skin, and kisses me. It’s soft, careful, almost sweet—until he pulls back, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers something so dirty I nearly choke on my own breath.

Holy shit.

I reach up automatically, grabbing his ass with both hands and shifting him closer. My arms slide around his waist, holding him tight. “I’d do that... right here, right now,” I say, my voice rougher than I mean it to be.

Jamie laughs, but it’s low and breathy, and I can tell he’s considering it for a split second before reality kicks in. “We’re at the beach, Jeff. We can’t do that here.”

“Why not?!”

Before he can answer, the sound of a car pulling up in the distance grabs my attention. I glance over Jamie’s shoulder and feel my stomach drop. A van has parked next to my car, and within seconds, a group of kids pours out, screaming and running onto the sand, followed by their parents lugging beach chairs and coolers.

Jamie kisses me quickly one more time, grinning against my mouth, then climbs off me and starts gathering our stuff. I lie there for a second, groaning in frustration.

“Who bringskidshere? The shore is dangerous... This is so messed up,” I mutter, helping Jamie pack up while glaring at the intruders.

By the time we reach the car, Jamie’s brushing sand off his feet before climbing in. I toss a sandy towel over my seat and slide in after him, starting the engine. The interior is like an oven, the heat practically unbearable.

Why didn’t I fix the air conditioning before Jamie got here? I roll down the windows and wipe sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand.

“Hey, Jeff,” Jamie says, his tone light and teasing, “do you know what time it is?”

“Uh...” I glance at the dashboard. “Two thirty. Give or take.”

“Wrong answer.”

“…Time to find a private place to park?” I ask hopefully, glancing at him.

Jamie gives me a bemused look, and I know immediately that’s ano.

Before I can come up with something else, the car radio blares on, and a commercial for greasy chicken sandwiches plays—one of those ads I know from TV where they show the bun falling apart before you can even bite into it.

I glance at Jamie, who’s trying not to laugh.

“Oh… They’resodamn good,” I say defensively, and Jamie finally cracks, his laugh filling the car and making the sticky heat almost bearable. Almost.

Jamie and I used to hang out at the chain restaurant near campus after class, and I could devour five of those sandwiches in one sitting. He always made bets on how many I could handle, grinning like an idiot every time I proved him wrong.

“It’s chicken sandwich time!”the announcer on the radio yells in an annoyingly high-pitched voice, followed by fireworks and air horns blaring alongside the ridiculous jingle.

I glance at Jamie, and without missing a beat, we both yell the catchphrase in perfect sync.

I laugh so hard I can barely keep the car steady, the sound of our laughter blending with the absurd radio ad as I drive us home.

Back at my apartment, Jamie’s already absorbed in editing his photos on his laptop. He’s sitting on the couch, his legs curled up like he’s trying to disappear into the cushions.

“Can you do that later?” I ask, leaning over him from behind and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I kiss the top of his head, and he sighs, closing out of whatever he’s working on.

“Yeah,” he says, shutting the laptop.

Dammit. I wanted to see those photos.

“Come here,” I say, pulling him up from the couch. He stands, turning to face me, and I wrap my arms around him in a loose hug. We’re still in our swim shorts, and his skin is warm against mine.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I say casually, tugging on his arm as I back toward the bathroom. I don’t let go.

“What are you doing...?” Jamie laughs, his voice light but curious as I drag him along.

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