Page 9 of Home in Nevada

“I missed you a lot,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. Shit.Where did that come from?

The words hang in the air, and I can feel my face burning, panic surging in my chest.

Jamie’s expression softens, his brown eyes meeting mine with a tenderness that makes my chest feel tight, like I can’t get enough air. “I missed you too,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering. He’s looking right at me, straight into my eyes, like he’s unafraid of whatever he might find there. It’s unsettling, that calm, steady look. It’s like he’s the one who’s moved on, like he’s the one who’s at peace with what happened between us.

Meanwhile, I can’t hold his gaze for more than a second. I glance away, pretending to focus on something—on the cracked tile floor, the garish Thanksgiving-themed displays lining the aisle, even the ceiling lights buzzing overhead. But I can still feel his eyes on me, unflinching. It’s like Jamie’s gaze is pinning me in place, forcing me to confront everything I’ve tried to bury.

The guilt gnaws at me, sharper than ever now. He’s standing here, smiling at me like nothing’s changed, like I didn’t choose to simply vanish out of his life. It hits me that he’s the one who should be angry, hurt, cold. But instead, it’s me who’s falling apart, and it’s him who looks composed.

Why isn’t he angry?How can he look at me like that, like he still sees something good in me? The thought makes my stomach twist with shame. I keep avoiding his eyes, but it’s useless—every time I glance back at him, he’s already looking, his expression open and steady, like he’s daring me to hold the moment with him.

The tension between us is thick. It’s probably only been a few seconds of silence, but it stretches on, feeling like minutes. I can’t stop noticing the way his lips curve up into that soft, familiar smile, the one that used to feel like it was just for me. And I hate the way it makes my heart race, the way it pulls me in, even now. It feels like the ground beneath me is shifting.

Why did I ghost him like that? I’ve asked myself that a thousand times, but standing here now, the answer feels more complicated than ever. I look away again, swallowing hard, trying to ignore the way my hands are trembling. I’m the one who walked away, but it feels like he’s the one who’s left me behind.

“So, how long are you here for?” Jamie asks, releasing me from my torturous prison of overthinking while sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Until tomorrow night,” I reply, aiming for casual, but my voice wavers.He notices.Of course he does.

“Think we could hang out?” he asks, and there’s a vulnerability in his tone that catches me off guard.

My heart skips a beat. “Hang out?”

“Yeah, like old times.”

What ‘old times’ is he fucking talking about? I’m floundering, my brain scrambling for an excuse, a way out. I glance over my shoulder, searching for Lucy. She’s nowhere in sight. I’m on my own, and I feel like a complete idiot.

“Uh… Lucy—”

“The blonde can come too,” Jamie says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re both welcome.”

“…Okay, sure,” I force myself to agree, because what else can I say?

Jamie’s smile widens, and it’s like a punch to the gut. “Do you still have my number?”

My stomach drops. That unread text.

"Yeah,” I mutter, feeling the blood rush to my face.

“Okay, just call me when you’re free. I have my own place now… Maybe we can order pizza or something,” Jamie says, casually, like this isn’t throwing my entire world off its axis.

“Yeah… I’ll text you,” I manage, but my voice sounds far away, like I’m talking through a thick fog. I can barely process his words, I’m too busy trying to keep my heart from pounding out of my chest.

Jamie’s lips curl into a grin, and he bites his bottom lip, brushing his hair back with a careless flick of his hand. His soft brown eyes linger on mine a beat too long, filled with a knowing look, like he can read every thought racing through my head.

He tilts his head, giving me this subtle, teasing wink that sends a jolt straight through me, hot and unexpected.

“Cool,” he says, his voice light and easy. "I'll talk to you later."

My face heats up, and I give a clumsy half-wave before turning to leave, nearly tripping over my own feet in my rush to get away. I can feel his eyes on my back, and it only makes the blush spread down my neck. Fuck, I’m a mess.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I find Lucy in the checkout line, my heart pounding, hands shaking like I’ve just run a marathon.I still have feelings for him.Big feelings. Intense, aching, impossible-to-ignore feelings. It’s not a question anymore, it’s a fact. I’ve tried to bury it, to move on, but seeing him just now ripped everything wide open. All I can think about is pulling him back into my arms, holding on tight, and kissing him until he can't breathe.

Why the hell did I think coming back here was a good idea?

Chapter 4

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