“Now, let’s see what these Hallmark movies are all about.”
The world outside my windows was dark, rain pattering against the glass, when I finally pried my eyes open. It took several moments of blinking in the dim light of my living room for reality to come into focus.
Jameson and I had fallen asleep cuddled on my couch. His face was peaceful as he slept, a slight shadow of scruff lining his jaw that I wanted to run my fingers over. My admiration quickly turned to horror as I noticed a distinct wet mark across his shirt from where my head had been laying.
I smacked myself in the forehead, my face blazing.
Idrooledon Jameson.
Jameson stirred, peeking an eye open, before he stretched, his body wiggling beside me.
“Why are you blushing?” he asked, voice hoarse from sleep.
At that moment, he ran a hand over his chest, stopping on the damp spot. I didn’t wait to witness his reaction, or how mad he was about to get. Surely, the mask would come off now. I curled into a ball next to him, hiding my face in my knees.
He didn’t miss a beat, sitting up and pulling me closer.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
All I could think about was the one single time Ben had ever let me cuddle with him. I had fallen asleep then, too, and when I woke up, he was livid. He was angry that not only had I fallen asleep on him, but that I had drooled on his extremely expensive shirt, creasing it.
In hindsight, the whole thing was ridiculous, and Ben had been an idiot to react that way, but the damage had been done. My insides coiled tight, waiting for a similar reaction from Jameson.
“Els, talk to me.” He tucked my hair behind my ears, eyes roving over my face.
Unreasonable tears spilled onto my cheeks.
It was then that I realized how much Ben had really screwed with my head, and being single for four years had provided zero opportunities for me to work through any of it. The fear of what happened to my parents only exacerbated all of it. Only now, with Jameson, was I forced to finally face those issues.
I let out a shaky breath. “I drooled on you.” My shoulders tensed, waiting for his anger.
His body stilled next to me. Then his hand was under my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Elsie, it’s just drool.”
I shook my head, still waiting for the anger, for awful words to be spoken.
Jameson cradled my face in his hands. “Els, I’m not mad. I think it’s sweet.”
My brows lowered at his words, and he huffed a laugh.
“It’s sweet that you felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with me. Who cares about a little drool? That’s what a washing machine is for.” His finger brushed across my cheek. “Please don’t hide from me. I’m your safe place, remember?”
The memory of him saying those words days ago, right before Ben had interrupted the evening, echoed through me. It settled the anxiety eating away at my stomach, smoothed the sharp ridges trying to poke their way out of my skin.
More and more, Jameson proved that he was nothing like Ben—or my parents. Maybe, just maybe, Maya was right, and this thing between usmightwork.
Jameson kissed me softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Elsie,” he whispered. “Even if you drool on me every night.”
A smile cracked across my lips.
Sensing victory, Jameson kissed the tip of my nose before glancing at his watch. He gave a low whistle. “It’s after eleven. I should probably get home.”
I nodded, unfolding myself from my spot next to him.
“Thanks for spending your evening with me, sunshine,” Jameson whispered, pulling me against him.
I smiled. “Thanks for putting up with my crazy.”
He pulled back to look at me, face serious. “I don’t see crazy. I just see you.”
