Page 33 of Balancing Act

She led Jamie up the stairs to her bedroom, then closed and locked the door behind them. The second the door was shut, Jamie was on her, turning her in her arms, pressing her body against Beth’s back, holding her up against the door. Beth pressed the palms of her hand against the door as Jamie’s hands explored her torso—like she was mapping and memorizing every inch of her. She let her head fall back as Jamie kissed along the ridge of her shoulder blade and up her neck, hands firmly planted on Beth’s hips as she ground slowly against her ass.

“I’ve been thinking about this exact moment since that night at your show last month,” Jamie murmured against her skin. “Thinking about when we’d get to do this again.”

Beth braced herself against the door, pushing back into Jamie’s powerful frame. Nimble hands found the button of her jeans, skillfully popping it open before sliding a hand inside, meeting Beth’s wet heat as Jamie’s fingers slid through her folds,feeling her damp arousal. The noise that left Jamie’s throat in that moment should be considered illegal, at least in a few states.

“You’re so wet for me, and I’ve barely touched you.” Jamie brushed over Beth’s clit as she breathed the last word, making her body jolt in a way she’d never experienced.

Beth couldn’t take it anymore. The anticipation of wanting Jamie’s touch—not just tonight, but for weeks—had her completely on edge, and then Jamie did it again. She was helpless to stop the way her hand thudded against the door in pure ecstasy as that tingling sensation took over her body.

Repeatedly, that thudding noise filled her ears as she groaned, trying desperately to get lost in Jamie’s touch, but it felt fainter and fainter as the noise got louder and louder.

She blinked her eyes open, and darkness pressed in all around her.

Beth sat up in her bed, pushing damp hair off her face. Her cheeks burned, and she looked around, still confused.What the?—

“Mama, we need to leave. I’m already going to be late.” Lily thumped loudly on Beth’s bedroom door again.

Beth reached for her phone to check the time. 5:50a.m. She let out a long, frustrated groan. It had all been a dream... It had all been afuckingdream.

She pulled her pillow over her head and let out her frustration into the soft linen-covered down. Her phone vibrated on her nightstand with an incoming text.

Jamie 5:52 AM

Morning! Thanks again for the wine and the chat last night. I had a really good time. We should do it again soon.

Beth found herself piecing together the previous evening with Jamie, details crisply separating from the hazy edges of sleep-induced fantasies.

What had really happened last night was that Jamie had stayed, at Beth’s invitation, for a drink, and what was meant to be a brief encounter had stretched into hours over a shared bottle of wine. It hadn’t really dawned on Beth that they had never truly spent any time together one-on-one and that something like this might be awkward, but their conversation flowed effortlessly, light and engaging, touching on topics with an ease that felt dangerously comfortable. Beth had laughed more freely than she had in months, drawn to Jamie’s sharp wit. The evening had been fun—genuinely fun.

But then Jamie went home, and Beth went to bed alone, as she was meant to.

Shocked awake by the bathroom’s cool tile on her feet, Beth splashed her face with cold water, trying to wash away the lingering feelings from her dream. As the water dripped down her face, she couldn’t help but acknowledge a stirring realization: she was possibly more invested in whatever was unfolding with Jamie than she had intended to be. The thought both thrilled and unnerved her as she reached for a towel, her heart racing. She was fucked.

EIGHT

JAMIE

Crisp October air filled Jamie’s lungs as her arms pumped, propelling her forward. The chill mixed with sweat cooling on her skin was sharp and invigorating.

Slowing her pace to a walk, she checked her watch for her mile time. 6:45. Not bad, but not her best. There was a reason she had been a gymnast and not a runner. She was there for endurance, not speed.

“Look who finally caught up.” Amanda bounced on the balls of her feet, ready to go again, as Jamie approached, still trying to catch her breath. Amanda had always been filled with endless energy; Jamie, on the other hand, not so much.

“I’m tapping out,” Jamie said, clutching at her side. Yeah, she was out of shape.

“You know, you really should move back here solely to get your ass back in shape,” Amanda teased, nudging her with her elbow. “What exactly have you been doing down in Oregon?”

Jamie didn’t answer her. She glared as she dabbed sweat from her brow with the hem of her shirt.

They walked back toward the gym in contemplative silence as Jamie’s mind tried to make sense of her thoughts. She stoopeddown to tie her shoe, purposefully not meeting Amanda’s eyes. “Can you stop with the moving-back talk?”

“What?”

Jamie didn’t answer right away. Instead, she took her time with her laces, buying herself a minute more. The little quips Amanda had been dropping about moving back to Seattle had finally got to her, and her annoyance bubbled over. “The moving-back talk. You mention it, like, every other day, and it’s getting old, especially since I’m never doing it—I’m never moving back here.” The words left her mouth with an unintended bite.

Indignation spread across Amanda’s face, and Jamie felt the mood shift between them. She stood, squaring her shoulders.

“I’m sorry for suggesting such a terrible idea.” Amanda rolled her eyes with a huff of frustration. “Is it so inconceivable that I missed having my best friend around? You up and moved away out of the blue to go what, hide in Oregon?”