Afterward, Jameson drives my Range Rover back to my house. He doesn’t stop touching me the whole way, his right hand traveling from my bare knee to my outer thigh and back down. I lean into the contact, my arm entwined with his. I stroke his muscular biceps through his shirt, biding my time until I can get him naked again.

He looks at me more than he should while he drives, his gaze possessive. And he keeps stroking my knee and my thigh, his fingertips scrawling lazily across my skin. It’s as if he’s been so starved for touch that he can’t help himself; I know that’s the way I feel, at least.

No words pass between us as he drives. There are no questions about what we’re doing, no angry denials of feelings. None of that.

I assume that he feels the same way that I do. I don’t know a hundred percent, but I expect that he isn’t sure why we were ever not together.

Maybe later, we’ll talk about that. But not now.

When we get to my house, he is as eager to get inside as I am. We kiss and embrace on the porch as I hunt down my key. I put the key in the lock, and he runs his tongue along the shell of my ear.

“Someone will see us,” I warn him, gasping as he reaches around to cup my breasts.

“So?”

I turn the key and push the door open, a shiver running down my spine at his response. Is he really so cavalier about it now?

I swallow the question, because now isn’t the time for all of that. There will be infinite amounts of time to discuss it later. I turn in his arms, kissing him. He grabs me and lifts me up, carrying me inside.

I squeak a little as he kicks the door shut. He carries me straight into my bedroom, collapsing on the bed on top of me. We take our time, kissing and exploring. He goes down on me and makes me cum three times before he is ready for sex.

And unsurprisingly, Jameson makes me cum again while he’s deep inside me. When we’re finished, both laying exhaustedly together, he kisses me so slowly and throughly that my eyes mist over.

I bury my head against his neck to hide my tears, but he’s having none of it.

“Hey,” Jameson says softly. He lifts my chin with gentle fingers. “You’re crying again.”

“I know,” I sniff, embarrassed. “Sorry, it’s just… overwhelming.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” His arm tightens around my shoulders, holding me a little closer.

A minute of silence passes between us. I’m wondering where I should begin to broach the topic of the huge change we just made to our relationship. While I’m thinking, though, Jameson speaks.

“I should be the one to apologize,” he says after a minute. “For breaking up with you, first of all. But also for being a complete tool while I was doing it, too.”

I raise myself up, putting my chin in my hand. “I think we’ve both suffered our fair share.”

He frowns. “We shouldn’t have, though. We should’ve just rode off into the sunset together, and never looked back.”

I bite my lip, glancing away. “But if you weren’t concerned for Asher, you wouldn’t be you.”

“You are too goddamned forgiving.” He twines his fingers with mine, which only serves to remind me how much bigger he is than me. “Your brother probably won’t be so nice.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Asher? No, probably not. Although he has had his head up his own ass lately. He probably has zero idea that we’re even… like…”

I trail off. Jameson kisses my neck, and I’m happy enough to let that particular topic of conversation fall by the wayside. I close my eyes as he sucks and bites my neck for a second.

“What did my brother do to get you so… mmm… devoted?” I ask.

The kisses stop as Jameson pauses for a second. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like… I don’t know. I figured that he must have helped you bury a body or something, the way you care what he thinks.”

His brow furrows as he considers my words. “Asher didn’t earn my loyalty by doing me a single favor. He did a whole series of them, from the day my grandma died until Gunnar went off to college. I think… I think maybe you missed some of the really hard stuff, like when I was trying to decide between feeding my brothers and making rent. And it was like that for years. I just kept thinking, this will be the day that this rich kid washes his hands of us. But he never did.”

I bite my lip. “I had no idea that you felt that way, Jameson.”

“Did you know that Asher helped me get my first bar backing job? Or an apartment, before I had enough credit? How about the time that he snuck us into the guest house so that I could save up some money? He literally saved us from starvation three times a year for almost ten years. And that’s just the stuff I can put a dollar amount on… it doesn’t include years and years of hearing me bitch about stuff that I found unfair.”

I shake my head. “No, I didn’t know about that. I’m guessing that you feel indebted to him still?”

He blows out a breath. “Yeah. I mean… how do you even start to pay that back? You can’t, not really. All you can do is—”

“What you’ve been doing,” I fill in, nodding. “Just being there, and being a good friend. I really do get that part, even if I don’t necessarily agree with it.”

He closes his eyes for a minute, running his hand through his short dark hair. “What else am I supposed to do? How do I repay that debt?”

I purse my lips. “Have you talked to Asher about it?”

He just shakes his head silently.

“Have you considered that he might not feel like you owe him some massive debt? He may feel that he gave you those things because he had them to give.” I pause, thinking. “There’s also the possibility that he may feel that he got something out of the deal, too. I know for a fact that you two got busted together for fighting on the playground plenty of times. I guarantee you that Asher’s scrawny ass didn’t do most of the fighting.”

He smiles faintly at that, opening his dark eyes. “You should’ve seen how awkward he was as a middle schooler. Talking to girls was a real problem for him.”

“And how did he get past that? My bet is that you had something to do with it.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs one shoulder. “That’s still next to nothing, comparatively.”

I sigh, letting the subject drop. I screw my face up, thinking.

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

He looks at me sideways. “Of course.”

“When did you first look at me and think that I was hot?” I blush as I say it.

Jameson shifts me off of his chest and turns so that he’s lying on his side. “That’s a complex question.”

“I don’t mean it to be. I’m just curious when you noticed me. I will admit to having dirty thoughts about you as early as twelve or thirteen, probably.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

“Yeah. I know that you barely noticed me, but you were a fixture in my life for a really long time.” I hope he’s going to stay in my life for the foreseeable future and beyond… but I don’t say it.

He is thoughtful. “Well… you’re probably going to cringe, but I really only started paying attention to you around the time that Cure opened. You weren’t really around me a lot before then, not day to day anyway.”

“What? I like, lived for the times when I knew I was going to see you.”

He shrugs. “I’m sorry. I was just wrapped up in my own stuff. If you didn’t know, I had a lot going on then.”

“Oh, you mean making sure that all your brothers got into college on scholarships wasn’t a mindless activity for you?” I tease.

“Hah! No. Especially Gunnar. I swear, I thought he was going to be my personal downfall.”

“Hmmm,” I say. “You still didn’t answer my original question, though. When was the first time that you saw me and thought that I was even vaguely attractive?”

He heaves a sigh. “Probably when you were seventeen.”

My eyes go wide. “Seventeen?”

“Yep. I remember that you used to wear those cutoff denim overalls with a tube top… that will stick in my memory forever, even though I will probably burn in hell for it.”

I grin. “I knew it! I definitely wore those teeny little shorts for your benefit, for your information.”

Jameson grins. “Is that a fact?”

“Yeah, definitely. I was just waiting for you to like… notice me and sweep me off my feet. I had a very rich fantasy life when I was a teenager, I will tell you that much.”

He leans down and kisses me on the lips, ever so slowly. “I definitely am glad that I didn’t know any of that back then. You were jailbait, for sure.”

I smile. “Are you saying that you wouldn’t have gone to jail for me?”

“No, just the opposite. I would have, without hesitation.” He noses my face to the side, tickling my neck with his facial hair.

“You would have made a pretty sexy jail bird though,” I say with a giggle. He pulls me close and overpowers me, which I find thrilling.

He kisses his way down my neck to my collarbone. “Maybe you should tell me some of your teenage fantasies. You know, that way I can make sure that you are really, really happy with me.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, my pulse starting to race.

There is a wicked glint in his eyes. “Definitely. I want to make sure you’re as content with me as possible. You know what they say. Happy girl, happy world.”

He kisses his way down to my breasts, finding my nipples already standing at attention. He covers one soft pink areola with his mouth, sealing his lips over it and sucking hard.

White hot lightning shimmers through my whole body. I gasp, my back bowing. “You are wicked,” I whisper.

He releases my breast and gives me a huge grin. “I try my best.”

Then Jameson starts kissing his way downward, and we are lost in each other once again for hours and hours.