couldn’t take just laying there as the gnawing anxiety got the best of me. Turning over, I took in his softened features. With his unkempt rusty hair, the freckles on his nose, he reminded me so much of the boy I fell in love with amongst the methanol and clay of the Northwest.
Who was I kidding, he was still that boy. Jameson hadn’t changed and I knew that. And knowing that, I shouldn’t have been so worried he’d regret this because the boy I fell in love with wouldn’t. He was still my best friend above all else and sleeping together wouldn’t change that.
Or would it?
Here I go again.
The haze of intoxication was starting to lift; reality was setting in.
Feeling sick again, I decided to get some water or run away, one of the two was a good idea.
You’d think his room would have water since it had everything else but nope, just alcohol. No surprise there though.
I threw on Jameson’s shirt from last night and stepped out the door, tentatively. I glanced outside but no one seemed to be around.
Half-naked, hair all over the place, I made my way down the long hallway of the Omni Hotel and Resort in search of water.
When I rounded the corner, I ran right into Emma.
No, scratch that—I fell over Emma because for god knows what reason, she was on her knees in front of the vending machine.
“What the hell, Emma?” I grunted pealing myself from the tile floor, slipping on ice cubes that were scattered everywhere.
Emma started picking up the ice chips frantically and dropping them in a bucket. “What does it look like? I was getting ice and water.”
She looked over me once, scrutinizing my appearance and then shook her head. “Where are your clothes?”
“Where are yours?” I challenged. Emma wasn’t wearing much more than me with Aiden’s t-shirt and cowboy hat. “Nice hat.” I added.
She smiled again and looked more closely at my collarbone that was sporting a purple bite mark from Jameson. “Did you ... oh god , Sway, you didn’t?”
“Shut up.” I snapped and shoved her against the vending machine. “You have no room to talk. Whose saddle were you just in?”
“Saddle?” Emma glared but appeared nervous. “Don’t tell Jameson about me and Aiden.”
“Don’t tell Alley about me and Jameson then.” I countered letting go of her.
“Deal,” we shook hands.
“Well, was it what you hoped for?” Emma asked as we made our way back down the hall to our rooms. “I heard you. You sounded like a damn hyena in there.” She added laughing hysterically.
I pushed her again, knocking her and her ice chips against some innocent quests door. “I hate you. I really do.”
When I made it back inside the room, Jameson cuddled against my back. I thought he was sleeping but his breathing hitched when I kissed his arm that he’d placed around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
“Have you ever thought about this before?” he asked. His voice was out of breath and low but smooth as it always was.
“Thought about ... ?” I tried to be vague as though I didn’t know what he was asking, even if I did.
“This ... ” his answer was just as vague. His arms flexed around me and he kissed my shoulder once, his lips warm.
“Yes and no,” I told him honestly, because right now, I couldn’t tell him how I really felt.
For someone who never ran from anything and spoke her mind frequently, I couldn’t tell him that this was all I’ve thought about for the past four years. The words just wouldn’t form.
In his arms that morning, I knew then that nothing would ever be the same between us. This wasn’t something where two people just casually slept together.
It couldn’t be.
Not with the thirst I had.
4. Happy Hour – Sway
Happy Hour – Slang term for last official practice session held before an event. Usually takes place the day before the race and after all qualifying and support races have been staged.
I was dead.
That’s all there was
Who was I kidding, he was still that boy. Jameson hadn’t changed and I knew that. And knowing that, I shouldn’t have been so worried he’d regret this because the boy I fell in love with wouldn’t. He was still my best friend above all else and sleeping together wouldn’t change that.
Or would it?
Here I go again.
The haze of intoxication was starting to lift; reality was setting in.
Feeling sick again, I decided to get some water or run away, one of the two was a good idea.
You’d think his room would have water since it had everything else but nope, just alcohol. No surprise there though.
I threw on Jameson’s shirt from last night and stepped out the door, tentatively. I glanced outside but no one seemed to be around.
Half-naked, hair all over the place, I made my way down the long hallway of the Omni Hotel and Resort in search of water.
When I rounded the corner, I ran right into Emma.
No, scratch that—I fell over Emma because for god knows what reason, she was on her knees in front of the vending machine.
“What the hell, Emma?” I grunted pealing myself from the tile floor, slipping on ice cubes that were scattered everywhere.
Emma started picking up the ice chips frantically and dropping them in a bucket. “What does it look like? I was getting ice and water.”
She looked over me once, scrutinizing my appearance and then shook her head. “Where are your clothes?”
“Where are yours?” I challenged. Emma wasn’t wearing much more than me with Aiden’s t-shirt and cowboy hat. “Nice hat.” I added.
She smiled again and looked more closely at my collarbone that was sporting a purple bite mark from Jameson. “Did you ... oh god , Sway, you didn’t?”
“Shut up.” I snapped and shoved her against the vending machine. “You have no room to talk. Whose saddle were you just in?”
“Saddle?” Emma glared but appeared nervous. “Don’t tell Jameson about me and Aiden.”
“Don’t tell Alley about me and Jameson then.” I countered letting go of her.
“Deal,” we shook hands.
“Well, was it what you hoped for?” Emma asked as we made our way back down the hall to our rooms. “I heard you. You sounded like a damn hyena in there.” She added laughing hysterically.
I pushed her again, knocking her and her ice chips against some innocent quests door. “I hate you. I really do.”
When I made it back inside the room, Jameson cuddled against my back. I thought he was sleeping but his breathing hitched when I kissed his arm that he’d placed around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
“Have you ever thought about this before?” he asked. His voice was out of breath and low but smooth as it always was.
“Thought about ... ?” I tried to be vague as though I didn’t know what he was asking, even if I did.
“This ... ” his answer was just as vague. His arms flexed around me and he kissed my shoulder once, his lips warm.
“Yes and no,” I told him honestly, because right now, I couldn’t tell him how I really felt.
For someone who never ran from anything and spoke her mind frequently, I couldn’t tell him that this was all I’ve thought about for the past four years. The words just wouldn’t form.
In his arms that morning, I knew then that nothing would ever be the same between us. This wasn’t something where two people just casually slept together.
It couldn’t be.
Not with the thirst I had.
4. Happy Hour – Sway
Happy Hour – Slang term for last official practice session held before an event. Usually takes place the day before the race and after all qualifying and support races have been staged.
I was dead.
That’s all there was
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