Page 47 of Sext Addict

Jamie, however, was still in the bar.

I made my way back over to “my” table to wait for Sex Study Participant Contestant Number Two, Sawyer, and hoped Jamie would remain onstage, behind his drum set. I checked my phone and realized I had five minutes until Sawyer was due to show. My scheduling skills were rather impressive. I supposed that if I had to move up north to live with my parents, I could always find an administrative job somewhere.

“Harry was nice.”

My hand clutched my heart and I jumped in fright: goddamn Jamie was next to me, straddling a backward-facing chair with an almost empty beer bottle in his fist. The size of his hand made it look like a child’s toy, which instantly had me imagining how that gigantic hand would look on my body.

I smoothed my hair back, shoved thoughts of Jamie’s hand on my body out of my mind, and sucked in a calming breath.

“What are you doing out here, Jamie?” I grumbled, forcing myself to look away from his huge tattooed biceps. “You scared the hell out of me. And you knew I was coming here on dates. Why are you bugging me?”

Jamie refused to acknowledge or accept social cues any normal person would pick up on and respect. He was an Irish giant who did whatever the fuck he wanted.

And it kind of turned me on.

“And yes, Harryisa nice guy,” I said, glancing up at Jamie’s eyes.

That was my first mistake. The way he was looking at me was like a bolt of lightning. His eyes traveled up and down my body before he met my eyes and grinned.

My second mistake was speaking. “You wouldn’t know anything about being a nice guy,” I snapped out.

Jamie’s grin increased as his eyes flashed. “No, Twyla, I wouldn’t.”

Those words alone raised hairs all along my arms, my legs, my spine. Everywhere tingled, which wasn’t the problem. It felt delicious. I wanted to feel like that every moment of every day. No, the problem was that Jamie knew it.

Jamie knew he made me feel more with four low spoken words than thirty minutes with Harry had.

Just then the pub’s door opened, spilling in light, and Jamie’s eyes shifted to glance over my shoulder. He laughed before standing up, then one-handedly flipped the heavy chair back into its proper position. I heard his drums erupt as I stood to greet Sawyer. Oh good grief—no wonder Jamie had laughed: the man held roses and wore a Taylor Swift concert T-shirt.

Sawyer was sweet. He wanted me to know first and foremost that he was a feminist and wrote for a feminist literary magazine and walked in women’s’ marches and helped organize women’s’ marches and shouted in women’s’ marches. Yep, Sawyer was the kind of guy who would buy you chocolate and make you pasta and watch chick flicks with you when you were on your period.

I glanced at the time on my phone and grimaced. Time to get this show on the road and see if Sawyer had the magic sauce.

“Kiss me,” I requested, attempting to add a tone of both allure and sweetness to my voice.

Sawyer smiled and reached his hand over to squeeze mine quite sweetly. “It’s the first date, and I like to respect women’s boundaries,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, nodding in agreement. “That’s great. But I’m clear on my boundaries. And I’d love it if you kissed me.”

Sawyer again sweetly declined.

Thirty minutes later, I watched in relief as Sawyer left. Again, I ducked into the bathroom and texted Ellis.

TESSA:Fingers crossed for Levi.

ELLIS:What about Jamie?????

TESSA:Nothing. He’s just here, is all. Being all judgy and stuff.

ELLIS:Maybe that’s a good thing.

I frowned. When had Ellis and Jamie become such buds?

TESSA:He’s bugging me.

ELLIS:He’s looking out for you. What about Sawyer?

TESSA:Ugh. Cute, but no sparks, no imagination, no guts, no glory. Doesn’t fully understand feminism. He’s the kind of man who probably believes sexting is disrespectful to women.

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