Page 4

Chapter 4

The one where Jeff fumbles more than his controller.

Lucy, my best wingman, flat-out refuses to join me at Jamie’s apartment tonight. She claims she promised my mom they’d play some board game she can’t stop raving about, but I know better. Lucy’s way too excited about what’s brewing between Jamie and me. It feels like she’s leaving me to dive into this uncertainty alone, like she’s setting me up for some kind of emotional ambush.

“Come on, just come with me,” I practically beg, sounding more desperate than I’d like. Without her, the stakes feel impossibly high, and the butterflies in my stomach are quickly turning into nausea.

She just smirks, shaking her head. “You’ll be fine, Jeff. You got this.”

Her confidence in me feels misplaced. I’m a bundle of nerves, but I let her win. I know she’s right in her own meddling way… If I don’t face this head-on, I’ll never figure out what’s still simmering between Jamie and me. But as I drive to his apartment, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m walking into a trap of my own making.

When I pull into the parking lot, I sit in the driver’s seat for a moment, gripping the steering wheel. My heart is pounding like I’ve just sprinted a mile. I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this is supposed to be like old times—us hanging out, playing video games, shooting the shit. But the second I step out of the car, the tension in my chest tightens, coiling like a spring. It’s not just nostalgia I’m feeling, it’s everything I’ve pushed down for four years, bubbling up to the surface.

The stairwell smells like fresh rain and cigarette smoke, the kind of scent that clings to your clothes. I take it all in as I climb to the second floor, trying to remember the last time I felt this anxious about seeing anyone. Jamie’s place isn’t what I expected: clean, quiet, with potted plants lining the balcony. It’s nice. Too nice. It doesn’t match the messy, carefree guy I remember from high school. What else about him has changed?

I knock on the door, and it swings open almost immediately. Jamie’s standing there in a fitted white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, his hair styled just enough to look effortless. For a split second, his eyes scan over me, starting at my face before trailing down, lingering on my chest and arms. It’s subtle, but I catch it. A quick, almost involuntary once-over. My pulse spikes, and I feel a rush of heat rise to my face.

Is he checking me out? No, I’m imagining it. I have to be. I try to ignore the thrill that runs through me, but my heart’s pounding so hard I swear he can hear it. He’s standing there, cool and casual, while I’m the one losing my grip.

“Hi,” I manage, shoving my hands into my jean pockets like an awkward teenager. My voice comes out breathless, and I hate it.

Jamie’s eyes flick behind me, scanning the hallway like he’s expecting someone else. “Where’s Lucy?” he asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

“She, uh… had something else to do.” I rub the back of my neck, taking another deep breath. What I really mean is, She’s leaving me to figure this out on my own, like some kind of bisexual experiment. I roll my eyes at the thought, trying to play it off, but Jamie’s gaze snaps back to mine, sharp and focused.

For a moment, he just looks at me, his expression unreadable, and I swear he’s holding back a smirk.

“Oh.” Jamie’s eyes widen slightly, and there’s a flicker of surprise—or is it satisfaction?—that flashes across his face. He gives me a once-over again, more obvious this time, and the corner of his mouth quirks up like he’s caught me off guard. “Well, in that case, wanna play Xbox?” he asks, stepping back and opening the door wider, his grin spreading.

The way he’s looking at me, so confident, so sure… it’s throwing me off. I let out a shaky breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and despite the nerves twisting in my gut, I find myself grinning back. “Hell yeah, I wanna play Xbox.”

I step inside, suddenly hyper-aware of how empty-handed I am. Should I have brought something? Wine? Snacks? I feel like an amateur, like I’m showing up to a date I didn’t know I was on.

Jamie’s apartment is spotless, almost too spotless. It’s the kind of clean that feels temporary, like he’s still settling in. There’s barely enough furniture to fill the space, and the living room has this slight echo, like the place hasn’t been lived in long. I spot a stack of moving boxes in the corner. Has he just moved in? I realize how out of the loop I am, how much of his life I’ve missed.

We settle on the couch, controllers in hand, and for the next two hours, it’s like slipping into an old routine. Pizza boxes on the coffee table, beers in hand, us shouting at the screen like no time has passed at all. Jamie tells me he’s been working at a downtown casino since graduation. He never planned to stay long, but he climbed the ranks fast, and now he’s doing pretty well for himself. I can’t help the pang of jealousy that flares up. He makes it sound so easy, like everything fell into place for him.

Meanwhile, I’m barely scraping by in LA. Sure, I’ve got a job as a climatologist, but the cost of living is eating me alive. Jamie— Mr. Casino Manager —seems more successful, more settled. I’m not jealous, exactly; it’s more like this gnawing sense of inadequacy I can’t shake.

I glance over during a lull in the game and catch Jamie watching me, his eyes soft, studying me. The beer’s made me warm and a little buzzed, and I find myself staring at his lips, remembering what it felt like to kiss him. It’s been so long, but the memory is sharp, vivid, like I could reach out and touch it.

Jamie notices. He leans in a little closer, his gaze flicking between my lips and my eyes. It’s subtle, but I know that look. It’s his let’s make out face, the one that used to get me every time. He gives me this half-smile, tilts his head slightly, and then just like that… he winks.

It’s like a punch to the gut. I can feel my heart pounding in my ears, my skin flushing hot. My fingers fumble over the controller, and I break eye contact, looking down like an idiot. I’m on the edge of something dangerous, something I know I shouldn’t want but can’t resist. This isn’t a good idea. I need to get a grip before I do something stupid, like kiss him right here on the couch.

But I can’t move. I’m frozen, staring at the screen, pretending to focus on the game, while all I can think about is how close he is, how good he looks, and how much I want him. “Hey, man... I can’t do that anymore. I have a girlfriend. A serious girlfriend,” I whisper, my eyes now locked on Jamie’s lips. My voice is so quiet I’m not even sure if he heard me.

“Oh.” Jamie leans back into his side of the couch, and the mischievous glint in his eyes fades. The shift is instant, and it feels like I’ve lost something I wasn’t ready to give up. My heart sinks.

“That’s okay, I get it. Sorry, dude,” Jamie says, rubbing the back of his neck. He forces a light laugh, but it sounds hollow. “It’s the beer... I guess it would be weird, right? After all this time?”

I feel embarrassed that we’re even having this conversation. It’s like I’ve walked into a trap, and I don’t know how to get out.

“You must really like her,” Jamie says, smirking as he turns back to the game.

“She’s the best girlfriend I’ve ever had,” I reply, and it comes out more defensive than I mean it to.

Jamie laughs softly, like he’s in on a joke I don’t get. I glance over, frowning at him.

He bites his lip, still focused on the screen. “I just... Dude, how are you still into chicks?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I mean, that blows my fucking mind.”

“What?” I laugh, narrowing my brow in confusion. “Of course I’m into women. Aren’t you?”

“No.” Jamie snorts, turning to look at me. “I’m gay, Jeff. Obviously.”

My character dies on the screen, but I barely notice. I’m too busy staring at him, my brain struggling to catch up. “You’re... gay?”

Jamie raises an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. “Jeff... so are you. Or bi, at least. Why are you looking at me like you’ve never heard this before?”

The defensive shell I’d let down earlier snaps back into place, hardening like armor. What the hell is happening on this trip to Nevada?

“I’m not,” I say flatly.

Jamie laughs, shaking his head as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. He elbows me in the side, playful but firm. “Jeffrey Reed… Dude. We used to make out all the time. I thought when you left, you’d have to come to terms with it, like I did. I’m good with who I am, Jeff.”

My mind is spinning, memories flashing by like a slideshow I can’t pause. The nights in my car, the stolen kisses, the way he used to look at me. Was it just us? Or was Jamie with other guys too? The thought makes my stomach twist in a way I don’t understand.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” I say quickly. “I’m just not into guys, Jamie. I was a horny, stupid kid back then, okay?”

Jamie turns to look at me fully now, his expression softening with something like pity. He’s not buying my denial, and I can tell he’s holding back another laugh.

Before I can say another word, he looks down at my lips with hooded eyes and leans in, slow and deliberate, closing the distance between us. My breath catches in my throat, and I don’t move, like I’m frozen in place. He kisses me softly, his lips brushing against mine in a way that’s gentle but electric, sending shockwaves through my entire body. It’s not like the rough, frantic kisses we shared in high school—it’s so familiar, but different. It's tender, careful, like he’s giving me a chance to pull away.

But I don’t.

For a split second, I kiss him back.

And it feels like the ground is falling out from under me.

I close my eyes and sigh. I’m not mad that Jamie completely ignored my earlier refusal because of Tiffany. I’m not mad at all.

I’ve missed this—missed Jamie so much. God, I love this.

My self-control snaps like a thread. My heart pounds harder with every brush of Jamie’s lips. I grab a fistful of his hair at the back of his head and kiss him back, fiercely, desperately. What started as a sweet kiss turns heated as I force my tongue into his mouth, pushing him back against the couch.

Jamie smiles against my lips before kissing me again, and it makes my head spin. It’s hot as hell when he smiles like that while we make out. It feels familiar, nostalgic, like slipping into an old rhythm.

I’m losing my mind.

Suddenly, Jamie shifts, sitting up and pushing me down onto the couch with surprising force. I blink, taken aback, as he crawls over me and straddles my waist. The surge of confidence from Jamie catches me off guard, but I can’t help the smile spreading across my face, my thoughts a jumbled mess as I look up into his eyes.

My hands find his waist, my touch hesitant, nowhere near as bold as his. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I can’t stop myself from sliding my thumbs under the waistband of his sweatpants, brushing the soft skin there.

Jamie bends down to kiss me again, his lips red and swollen, the sight of it making my pulse race even faster. He trails kisses along my jaw, then down to my neck, nibbling on my ear. The hot breath against my skin makes me grip the fabric of his sweatpants on his thighs, my fingers digging in hard.

When he kisses me again, I grab his hair, pulling him closer, pressing our lips together with more urgency. Jamie lightly sucks on my bottom lip, his hips starting to move, creating friction that’s almost unbearable.

I’m throbbing inside my jeans, painfully hard. I glance down between us and catch sight of his arousal pressing against his sweatpants. The visual sends a rush of heat through my gut, lighting me on fire.

It’s not gross. Lucy was right, there’s nothing about this that feels wrong. Not with Jamie.

It’s fucking hot seeing him hard like this— hard for me —the way he’s sitting on top of me, grinding our hips together like we used to. It’s driving me insane. I’m practically vibrating with lust, unable to hold back anymore. I grab two handfuls of his ass, squeezing before raising one hand and bringing it down with a smack. The sound echoes in the apartment, and Jamie lets out a yelp, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Well, I’m convinced,” he says with a smirk, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re definitely not into guys.”

He stands up from the couch, leaving me stunned, still breathless.

“What?”

It’s supposed to be a question, but it comes out flat, like I’ve lost my voice. I’m still lying on the couch, watching Jamie stand up, his lips red and his erection straining against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. I feel ridiculous, abandoned.

“I...” I sit up quickly, scrambling for words. “Jamie, I don’t know what this is, but I’d rather die than do this with anyone else. Do you understand that?”

“Do what?” Jamie asks, still smirking. He’s messing with me, clearly enjoying my confusion.

“Fooling around, dude,” I say, trying to sound casual, but my voice wavers.

Jamie chuckles softly. “I want to do way more than just fool around with you, Jeffrey.”

His words hit me like a slap. My face heats up, and I know I’m blushing. Jamie’s grin grows wider when he notices my reaction. He’s exuding a confidence I’ve never seen before.

How is he the one making me nervous and shy? What is happening right now?

He walks into the kitchen, pouring us both glasses of water, leaving me on the couch, struggling to calm my racing thoughts. How far was I about to let this go before he stopped us? The intensity of our make-out session was beginning to venture beyond anything we’d done in the past, and it’s left me feeling unsteady. Guilt tugs at my core.

Jamie breaks the silence, handing me a glass as he sits beside me. “Hey, Jeff... I didn’t mean for it to go that far when I kissed you,” he says, his voice sincere. “I swear, I just wanted to prove a point. Show you what I meant.”

I take a sip of water, trying to steady my racing pulse.

Jamie chuckles, but there’s a flicker of discomfort in his eyes. “You know, I have a boyfriend.”

The words freeze me. My grip tightens on the glass, the water sloshing over the rim. Anger flares up, mixed with a pang of jealousy I wasn’t prepared for. Why does this hurt so much?

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have kissed you... That was on me,” Jamie says, his voice dropping to a regretful whisper. The vulnerability in his eyes makes my chest ache.

I’m reeling. Jamie always had girlfriends back in high school, just like I did. So why does this feel so different? Why does it sting so much to hear he’s with someone now? Then it hits me—it’s not just that he’s with someone else. Jamie’s with a man. And that cuts deeper, because I always thought what we had was unique, something only the two of us shared. Now, it feels like I’m losing a part of him I never realized I’d claimed as mine.

“It’s not a big deal,” I say, trying to sound reassuring. “It was never a big deal, Jamie. It’s fine.”

But the words feel hollow, even to me. Who am I trying to convince here?

Jamie’s frown deepens. “Jeff, you idiot. It’s always been a big deal to me.”

Always been a big deal? My mind races. To me, it was always just... a weird thing we did. Feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, I place a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer comfort.

“Hey, I’m leaving tomorrow night,” I say, forcing a smile. “It’ll be like I was never even here.”

The second I say it, I know it’s a mistake. Jamie’s expression changes, hurt flashing in his eyes like a wound I’ve just reopened. It’s almost painful to look at him.

“It was really shitty of you not to text me back, dude.”

The words hit me like a punch. I’d hoped we’d never bring this up—that maybe Jamie had let it go.

“Jamie, we agreed not to talk anymore when I left,” I say, guilt creeping into my voice. I don’t have an excuse that will make this better. The weight of my own actions feels crushing.

“Yeah, well, I was a mess that night. I missed you. A lot. And you never texted me back, Jeffrey.”

I brace myself as the conversation shifts into dangerous territory. “I thought maybe you didn’t have my number anymore, or maybe you didn’t recognize it was me. But you still have my goddamn number, Jeff… What the fuck?”

My jaw clenches. “Jamie, we weren’t talking anymore! Why are you bringing the text up now? That was two years ago!”

“Well, it hurt. A lot.”

I exhale sharply, frustration boiling over. “I’m sorry... I really am. I didn’t know how to respond to that text. What was I supposed to say?”

The silence between us is thick, charged. I glance at him, my anger slowly giving way to something softer.

“I’ve felt guilty about that text for two years,” I admit quietly. “But why did you even reach out to me?”

Jamie, now standing and turning off the TV, meets my eyes with a sharp, almost defiant look. “Quit making this my fault.”

“It was your fault!” I snap, standing up with clenched fists. “You’re the one who sent the text!”

“I needed to talk to you. I needed someone. But you weren’t there. What else is new?”

The words land like a blow, and I flinch. “I wasn’t there for you? That’s bullshit,” I say, my voice cracking. “I was a good friend, Jamie. You were my best friend. Stop acting like I was just an asshole.”

Jamie’s expression softens for the first time, the anger dissolving into something raw and vulnerable. “You weren’t a shitty friend, Jeff,” he says, quieter now. “It’s just... fuck, Jeff, you’re so oblivious. I had a huge crush on you for so long.”

The shock leaves me reeling, like the ground has disappeared beneath my feet.

“I figured when you left, it was best for me to move on. You wanted that, right? So I thought it was the right thing to do.”

My mind spins, struggling to process this revelation. “It wasn’t just some weird thing we did?”

Jamie’s gaze softens, a mix of sadness and amusement in his eyes. “No, it wasn’t weird. Not for me, anyway.”

The embarrassment washes over me, making me feel small and foolish. I look away, rubbing the back of my neck. “Dude, how long have you felt this way?”

Jamie’s cheeks flush as he rubs his arm. “I don’t know... Since third grade, probably.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

Jamie laughs softly, a little embarrassed. “That’s when I realized I liked you too much.”

I stare at him, stunned. “I never figured... Well...” I stumble over my words, feeling the weight of everything I’ve missed. “I’m dumb.”

Jamie chuckles, crossing his arms. “Yeah, kinda.”

There’s a beat of silence, but it’s different now—lighter, almost tender. I take a deep breath, trying to mask my nerves with a weak joke. “Well, this seems like a good time for me to head out.”

Jamie’s smile falters, and his voice drops, tinged with something I can’t quite place. “Right, like you were never here.”

The words make my chest ache, but I swallow the feeling down. I grab my keys and turn back to him. “Will you be pissed if I text you? You know, once in a while?”

Jamie blinks, and his face brightens, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “Even after I just told you I liked you? And made out with you? And we're both seeing other people? And we live in different states?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Jamie smirks, his voice light but a bit shaky. “You really like making things complicated, don’t you?”

“Only for you,” I say with a grin.

Jamie’s blush deepens, and he looks away, biting back a smile. It’s so endearing it makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. “It’s fine. You can text me.”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” Jamie echoes, his smirk playful but sincere. The air between us feels different now—like the weight of the argument has lifted.

I gesture down at myself with a dramatic flourish. “Just so you know, you’re not getting in my pants. I’m with Tiffany. These goods are off-limits. Keep your greedy hands to yourself.”

Jamie rolls his eyes, the blush on his cheeks lingering. “Yeah, okay, idiot. I get it. It won’t happen again.”

“Bye, Jamie.”

I pull him into a tight hug, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. There’s a moment of hesitation before he hugs me back, his arms slipping around my waist. The warmth of him seeps into me, but it’s his scent that nearly undoes me—the same clean, cedar-smelling bar soap he’s used for as long as I can remember. It hits me like a wave, filling my head with memories of late-night hangouts, football practices, and the quiet moments we shared when it felt like we were the only two people in the world. It’s comforting, achingly familiar, and it drives me wild.

I hold on a second longer than I should, breathing him in, before I finally force myself to let go. The scent of Jamie, clean and familiar, clings to me as I step back, lingering like a ghost. I give him a small wave, trying to play it cool, but my chest feels tight, and I can’t help the smug little smirk tugging at my lips.

By the time I’m in the car, the giddy thrill of reconnecting is buzzing through me, making my heart feel lighter than it has in years.

Holy shit. I have my best friend back.