Page 21 of Home in Nevada

Ipulluptothe house around 5:30 PM and immediately notice a gleaming red Mercedes parked in my usual spot in the driveway. It’s so obnoxiously shiny that it practically screamslook at me.With a sigh, I park on the street, shooting the car a scowl.

“Who’s that?” Lucy asks, her voice full of curiosity.

“Probably Jamie,” I mutter, frustration tightening my chest. Of course, Jamie would show up in a car way nicer than mine.

Lucy’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Are you serious?!”

“Yeah. My mom invited him for dinner tonight with the neighbors, before we head back home.”

Her excitement is instant—she practically vibrates in her seat, her mouth hanging open in awe. “Oh my God, Jeff…”

“Seriously, you’re making way too big of a deal out of this.” I slam my door shut, trying to ignore the flutter of anxiety in my chest.

My hands feel clammy as I fumble with my car keys to lock the door. Why is Jamie here so early? I told him six.

“I’m living for this right now,” Lucy says, grabbing my arm and tugging like an overexcited kid on Christmas morning.

“Just shut up, Lucy.”

I open the front door and let her step inside first, closing it firmly behind us.

From the kitchen, my mom’s cheerful voice calls out, “Hey, you two!”

Jamie’s there, helping her arrange dinner plates and prep wine glasses like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My dad, as usual, is glued to the recliner, watching TV.

Jamie turns to face us, and it’s like I’ve been hit by a freight train. My stomach knots as embarrassment and anxiety crash into me all at once.

He’s beautiful. His eyes are soft, happy, and his smile flashes a row of perfectly sparkling teeth, just like it always does. For a second, I can’t breathe.

But there’s something else about him—something different. He seems… older, somehow. More confident, like he’s fully stepped into himself in the years we’ve been apart. His posture is relaxed, easy, like he knows exactly who he is and doesn’t care what anyone thinks.

And that somehow makes him even more devastating.

It’s not just the old Jamie I remember, the one who could laugh off anything and make me feel like the world wasn’t such a big, scary place. This is someone grown, polished, standing right in front of me like the living embodiment of every dream I’ve tried to push aside.

It hits me all at once: he’s not just beautiful. He’smore—more real, more untouchable, and yet more impossible to ignore. And the worst part is, I can feel it. Every nerve in my body is hyperaware of him, like gravity’s pulling me closer no matter how much I want to resist.

Then, like a cruel joke, the dream I’d shoved to the back of my mind hits me with full force—the memory of his touch in places he’d never dared to before, that pretty mouth on me—and my face heats up, burning redder than it probably ever has in my entire life.

Jamie’s grin falters, shifting into something amused but questioning as his gaze sweeps over me. I can tell he’s clocking how weird I’m being, and it only makes me panic more.

I completely freeze, caught somewhere between wanting to run and hoping the ground will swallow me whole.

Lucy bounds into the room, practically skipping. “Hi!!!” she sings, waving at Jamie with an exaggerated shyness that does nothing to hide her excitement.

Oh God, she’s going to make this so awkward. And so am I.

“Hey,” I say, forcing a casual tone, hoping it’ll dampen her enthusiasm.

Lucy, of course, ignores me completely. She pushes past, all smiles and excitement, introducing herself to Jamie before immediately taking over in the kitchen. She and my mom dive into arranging the food, chatting like old friends.

Jamie drifts over to me, lingering by the dining room table with a faintly amused look on his face, like he’s waiting for me to say something stupid.

“Hey,” he says.

“Dude, I said six,” I snap, trying to mask my nerves with irritation.

Jamie just shrugs, completely unfazed, like he couldn’t care less. Of course, he doesn’t.

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