ear. Oh yes, he knew all about the ballplayer. Jameson had an online subscription to The Boston Globe.
But he could feel something. Her body was connected to his, in some inexplicable way. It always had been, ever since their very first time together. She didn't move at all, but he could feel her skin come to life. Like it was vibrating, humming with energy.
“It's cute that you even think that's possible,” Tate whispered back, but he was already grinning. He knew she was bluffing. He let go of her and stood upright.
“One month, Tatum. Here, with me and Sanders.”
“Ooohhh, I get Sanders in the deal, too?”
“Looked to me like you already had him.”
“Jealous?”
“Don't be stupid.”
“But what do I get out of this?” she pressed him. Jameson sighed.
“If after one month, you still don't want anything to do with me, you have my promise that I'll leave you alone. No showing up at your home, or your job, or talking to your friends. Any of that bullshit. I'll even do split custody with Sanders. I'll let you go. Once and for all. We let this go, whatever this is,” he told her, gesturing between them.
Tate was silent for a long time. If it hadn't been for the stern set of her mouth, he almost would've thought she'd fallen asleep. But after a long time, she opened her mouth. Closed it. Thought for a second longer. Opened it again.
“You have to know, you won't win,” Tate warned him.
Looks like I already have.
“Won't know for sure until I've tried. But you have to be honest with me, you can't fake anything or lie. You have to let me do whatever I want,” Jameson amended the deal.
“I was always honest with you, and you should never be allowed to do whatever you want,” she replied. He laughed.
“Fair enough. Do we have a deal? One whole month, starting today?” he asked.
“You won't win,” she warned him again, but she held out her hand. He took it in his own.
“Baby girl, I never lose.”
*
Inside her brain, Tate was freaking out. She wasn't sure what she'd gotten herself into – an all expenses paid, luxurious vacation in the South of Spain? Check. Psychotherapy under the guise of hitting your best friend? Check . A deal with the devil that could potentially mean losing her soul? Double Check .
The end result was too tantalizing to turn down, though. It would be over. No more wondering, or worrying, or what ifs. Just over . Dead. No more Jameson and Tate, whatever they even were, anyway.
But she couldn't quite figure out his angle. Jameson didn't care about her, that much was clear. If he did, he wouldn't be offering her some silly game – he'd be offering his heart. Was he really so obsessed with sleeping with her that he needed to drag her all the way to Spain? Play more games with her? She would only ever be just a game to him. Maybe that had been fine before, but it wasn't fine now. She wanted more for herself, and she certainly wasn't going to get it from him.
Jameson could play all the stupid games he wanted, Tate wasn't about to fall for them again. She was not going to make the next thirty days easy for him. They would go around in circles for the next month, then it would be goodbye, forever . And hey, if he happened to grow a heart in the process and lose it to her, why, that would just be gravy on top. But either way, he would not be winning this time around.
Easy as pie.
~4~
After making her deal with the devil, Tate went to her room to change. If she was going to be busting balls, she couldn't be doing it wearing Ellie's style of clothing. For god's sake, she was wearing khaki . Barf. Tate felt like she was really waking up, for the first time since the hospital.
And the first thing she wanted was a really tight pair of pants.
They hadn't spoken much after they'd woken up, but Sanders hadn't seemed bothered by their little slumber party, so she convinced him to go shopping with her. They were treated exceedingly well in all the stores they went to –
But he could feel something. Her body was connected to his, in some inexplicable way. It always had been, ever since their very first time together. She didn't move at all, but he could feel her skin come to life. Like it was vibrating, humming with energy.
“It's cute that you even think that's possible,” Tate whispered back, but he was already grinning. He knew she was bluffing. He let go of her and stood upright.
“One month, Tatum. Here, with me and Sanders.”
“Ooohhh, I get Sanders in the deal, too?”
“Looked to me like you already had him.”
“Jealous?”
“Don't be stupid.”
“But what do I get out of this?” she pressed him. Jameson sighed.
“If after one month, you still don't want anything to do with me, you have my promise that I'll leave you alone. No showing up at your home, or your job, or talking to your friends. Any of that bullshit. I'll even do split custody with Sanders. I'll let you go. Once and for all. We let this go, whatever this is,” he told her, gesturing between them.
Tate was silent for a long time. If it hadn't been for the stern set of her mouth, he almost would've thought she'd fallen asleep. But after a long time, she opened her mouth. Closed it. Thought for a second longer. Opened it again.
“You have to know, you won't win,” Tate warned him.
Looks like I already have.
“Won't know for sure until I've tried. But you have to be honest with me, you can't fake anything or lie. You have to let me do whatever I want,” Jameson amended the deal.
“I was always honest with you, and you should never be allowed to do whatever you want,” she replied. He laughed.
“Fair enough. Do we have a deal? One whole month, starting today?” he asked.
“You won't win,” she warned him again, but she held out her hand. He took it in his own.
“Baby girl, I never lose.”
*
Inside her brain, Tate was freaking out. She wasn't sure what she'd gotten herself into – an all expenses paid, luxurious vacation in the South of Spain? Check. Psychotherapy under the guise of hitting your best friend? Check . A deal with the devil that could potentially mean losing her soul? Double Check .
The end result was too tantalizing to turn down, though. It would be over. No more wondering, or worrying, or what ifs. Just over . Dead. No more Jameson and Tate, whatever they even were, anyway.
But she couldn't quite figure out his angle. Jameson didn't care about her, that much was clear. If he did, he wouldn't be offering her some silly game – he'd be offering his heart. Was he really so obsessed with sleeping with her that he needed to drag her all the way to Spain? Play more games with her? She would only ever be just a game to him. Maybe that had been fine before, but it wasn't fine now. She wanted more for herself, and she certainly wasn't going to get it from him.
Jameson could play all the stupid games he wanted, Tate wasn't about to fall for them again. She was not going to make the next thirty days easy for him. They would go around in circles for the next month, then it would be goodbye, forever . And hey, if he happened to grow a heart in the process and lose it to her, why, that would just be gravy on top. But either way, he would not be winning this time around.
Easy as pie.
~4~
After making her deal with the devil, Tate went to her room to change. If she was going to be busting balls, she couldn't be doing it wearing Ellie's style of clothing. For god's sake, she was wearing khaki . Barf. Tate felt like she was really waking up, for the first time since the hospital.
And the first thing she wanted was a really tight pair of pants.
They hadn't spoken much after they'd woken up, but Sanders hadn't seemed bothered by their little slumber party, so she convinced him to go shopping with her. They were treated exceedingly well in all the stores they went to –
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