Page 37 of Lance
SIXTEEN
When Jamie’s phone beeped at him when he turned it on, telling him that he had missed a call, he somehow stupidly thought that it might be Lance, asking him to come back. If only Lance would tell Jamie that he wanted him,was that too much to ask for, that Jamie didn’t have to play second fiddle anymore, and that they wouldn’t have to hide.
But that was impossible. So damn impossible. And deep down, he knew that Lance wasn’t going to be the one who had called. He saw that he had a text from Aaron, but nothing from Lance.
Why would he? Jamie had ended things, and they both knew that Lance wasn’t going to do what it took to make Jamie willing to stay. Besides, with what Lance had said, the accusations that he’d hurled, Jamie didn’t see how Lance could even want him around.
Because Lance was right, Jamie had left Dom. He had just walked out, with never a word, no note, nothing. He had simply left, and maybe, though it was hard to imagine, Dom had thought that Jamie was dead, too, just like Lance had with Amy. Maybe Dom had even mourned.
They just weren’t a match, neither of them was good for the other. Not Dom and Jamie, and not Lance and Jamie, either. The baggage which they both carried made it impossible. If only they had met before life had gotten in the way, but that was useless speculation, completely impossible.
He had a missed call, but it wasn’t from Lance. Lance wouldn’t care enough to call. If anything, it was probably a relief to Lance that he could go back to kissing other people without any guilt. It was from a number that he didn’t realize, and the person had, of all things, left a message. Who even did that anymore?
As eager as he was for a distraction, though, he took it. He barely even remembered how to get into his voice mail, but he struggled through it, sitting in the common area of their hotel suite and, if he had to admit it, sort of hoping that someone, Lance or even Aaron, would come find him.
Finally, he got through to the electronic answering service, and while he was still raising the phone back to his ear, the door to the suite did swing open, just as he’d been waiting for without entirely telling himself so.
It wasn’t Lance or Aaron. No, it was the other Lost Boy, the one who had disliked Jamie from the beginning, though Jamie had never been told why. He’d never even asked, he realized, but when he saw Ken glowering at him, he knew more than ever that he’d been right about the guy.
Even before Jamie had been interested in Lance in more than a sort of instinctive, knee-jerk kind of way, Ken had disliked Jamie. Why? Jamie might have asked, if not for the phone pressed to his ear. But when he heard a smooth, deep, familiar voice coming through his phone, he stopped thinking about Ken entirely, focused purely on the man who was talking to him.
The words weren’t important. They were innocuous enough. But it was the tone of voice, confident and assured, and the way shame and guilt went through Jamie as he heard it. Dom had always made him feel that way. It was part of why Jamie had eventually just walked out.
Closing his eyes, Jamie blindly pressed the screen until the call mercifully ended. It was Dom. Dom had found him. How? Jamie had changed his number back when he’d left, and again when he’d joined the band. It wasn’t listed anywhere. So it was more than a little creepy that Dom had it.
For a moment, Jamie seriously considered just ignoring the call, but the look on Lance’s face when he accused Jamie of leaving, just like Amy had, stuck with him. He could be brave enough to say goodbye in person, couldn’t he?
The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the right thing to do. However Dom had found him, the man obviously needed closure, and maybe so did Jamie. Not that he was ever going to be content with Dom again. But moving on could be a good thing.
So he listened to the message again, a sight frown lingering on his lips, and when he got to the part where Dom left his number, he tapped it into his phone quickly. Ending the call with his voice mail once more, he took a deep breath, trying to fight back the nerves but it felt a little bit like beating back the tide with a stick.
“Jamie. I knew you’d call,” Dom answered on the second ring, and Jamie felt his muscles all go slack, his eyes closing as he listened to the voice of the man who had once meant so much to him. Now, there was nothing there, other than annoyance and guilt and maybe some regret that it couldn’t have been healthier for both of them.
“I’m just calling to say …” Jamie started. He’d intended to do this in person, but what was the point? He’d already made up his mind. People grew up, people changed, and while Dom had once been Jamie’s sun and moon, while he’d once been Jamie’s everything, Jamie had grown past that.
Now there was someone else who was taking on that role, and maybe Jamie couldn’t have him, either, but that didn’t mean he would be content with anyone else.
But Dom interrupted him, something that had always deeply irritated Jamie, but which Dom did all the time. It made him feel like his comments, his ideas and options, weren’t even worth considering. And he really thought that Dom felt the same way.
“You’re calling to say goodbye,” Dom told him smoothly, and Jamie’s eyes opened. Dom could be quite perceptive, when he wanted to be, and while it was strange to hear it put out so boldly, he couldn’t deny that was the case.
“Yeah,” he agreed, very softly, but he knew that Dom could hear.
“You should hear me out. I’m in town,” Dom said like it was no big deal, but Dom lived in Los Angeles, and they were in Ohio at the moment. Even for someone like Dom, who had access to all sorts of things with his money that Jamie could only dream off, that was hardly the same as just running out to the store to get some milk or bread or something.
“What?” Jamie asked stupidly, and as he spoke, his eyes fell on Ken, who was watching him with an avid, suspicious expression on his handsome face. Jamie turned away from the guy. He was very quickly getting to the point where he no longer cared. Ken was just never going to like him, and no one in the band, other than, oddly, maybe Aaron, could even count as Jamie’s friend anymore.
So let Ken watch. Let Ken judge. He wasn’t even worth Jamie’s notice. It was really none of Ken’s business what Jamie did unless Jamie wanted to tell him, and Jamie wasn’t really feeling all that charitable at the moment. He’d tried with Ken, he really had, but he’d been shut down at every turn.
“I’m in town,” Dom said again, with a sort of strained patience which was far too familiar to Jamie. “So come out to meet me. Just for coffee. You don’t like what I have to say, and I walk away forever. But I think you will.”
Jamie let his eyelids fall shut, mercifully cutting off the sight of Ken gazing at him, the contempt in those teal eyes of his. Just coffee, in a public place? And the chance to say goodbye?
“Okay. Sure. Why not,” Jamie let the words slip from his mouth, acting on nothing but pure impulse, and felt strange the moment that he had. Like he’d made a mistake. But Dom was already speaking again, arranging things, as he had always liked to do.
So let him. This was his last chance. Jamie organized his own life now, and Jamie, all on his own, had gotten himself into this band.
“Tomorrow morning, ten,” Dom informed him, and Jamie gritted his teeth. He was not a morning person, and Dom knew that very well. Especially with how late it was now, after two in the morning, being anywhere by ten was going to be a challenge.
