Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I welcome the burn in my legs and lungs, the melting away of my thoughts.
Jamie and Melissa are still asleep when I get back, so I shower and stroll down the street for coffee and bagels. When I return, Melissa’s in the kitchen, gulping down a tall glass of water. Her makeup’s smeared into raccoon eyes, and her reddish-black hair is clumped in areas with a few strands glued to her face.
“Good morning.” I place the coffee carrier and bagels on her round table by a watercooler and a fake fig tree.
She clanks the glass on the counter, out of breath from inhaling the water so quickly. “Can we talk before Jamie drags her ass out of bed?”
I sit and claim one of the coffee cups. “Of course.”
“I think my friend has a crush on you.” She eyes the other two cups of coffee, and I loosen one from the carrier and hand it to her.
“You’re a god. Thank you.” She peels off the lid and takes a cautious sip. “Jamie had a secluded life as a child. One parent. Homeschooled. Only a handful of friends in the neighborhood. When her mom died, she made one goal—to see all the places she never explored growing up. Hence becoming a travel nurse.” Melissa glances toward the bedroom before taking a seat across from me. “Don’t let her get stuck in Montana. She has a king-size romantic heart, and you’re a shiny distraction. I’m asking you not to let her forget why she left here in the first place.”
I nod slowly. My thoughts muddle, at odds with one another in many ways. I don’t feel like I’m leading Jamie on. She’s an adult, capable of making mature decisions. My ego likes that reasoning because it relieves me from accountability. The other voice in my head screams that I should do the right thing. But being with her feels right, even if it’s not.
Why am I making this so complicated? I’ll be the first to help her pack when it’s time for her to leave Montana. That’s what friends do.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not boyfriend material. I’m not marriage material. I won’t be anyone’s husband or father.” I take a sip of coffee. “And we’re just roommates.”
Ego wins.
“You helped her get on her first plane. I think you’re more than roommates.”
I set my coffee on the table and retrieve a bagel with cream cheese. “I was homeschooled too. We have that in common. We’re . . . friends.”
“Just friends?” Melissa narrows her eyes.
“Just friends.”
As soon as those two words leave my mouth, said friend’s bare feet scuff along the hard floor. “Morning,” she mumbles, just as groggy as she was when I woke her hours earlier.
“Morning, babe.” Melissa smiles.
Jamie squeezes her friend’s shoulder. “God, that smells good. Who made a coffee run?”
“Your awesome roommate.” Melissa holds up her cup like she’s toasting my good deed.
“He’s the best.” Jamie claims the last cup in one hand while her other cradles my cheek. “Aren’t you, Fitz?”
I try to remain physically neutral, as if my body doesn’t react to her touch, or as though friends always touch each other this way. And I don’t look at Melissa because I feel her gaze on me as Jamie sits in the chair between us. Her nightshirt barely covers the top of her legs—the same sexy legs that wrapped around my body last night.
Fuck, I’m getting hard.
“It was no big deal.” I slide the bag of bagels closer to Melissa and Jamie. “I jogged on the beach and showered. But you two were still asleep, so I made myself useful.”
“Fitz works out obsessively. Zero percent body fat. It’s not fair.” Jamie tosses a wry grin in my direction.
“So we hate him,” Melissa says.
“We hate him so much.” Jamie giggles, fishing out a bagel.
“Well, I’m going to jump in the shower. My brother and his wife planned a family luncheon before the official party tonight, so I hope you two can stay out of trouble while I’m gone this afternoon.”
Jamie smiles over her mouthful of bagel. “We’ll find something to do.”
Melissa leaves us with a distrusting hum and disappears into the bathroom.
“Good morning, Calvin Fitzgerald.” Jamie leans back in her chair, the cup of coffee hiding her grin while her foot rests on the edge of my chair between my spread legs.
I have no clue what to do or say. Reminding her that last night never happened feels like pissing in her coffee.
She sets her cup on the table and frowns. “You have at least a dozen worry lines on your forehead. Want to discuss them?”
“Speaking of worrying, Melissa is worried that you’re going to get sidetracked in Montana and not travel to all the places you dreamed of traveling when you left here in January.”