But he promised me. He promised if the Tums stopped working, he would take care of this. Was I just supposed to wait him out?

I felt Jamie’s hand on my forehead, brushing my overgrown bangs to the side.

“Take it your dad is still sick and not gettin’ checked out?”

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. “He’s stubborn and insisting it’s heartburn,” I said.

“Maybe it is.”

“Maybe it’s something more serious and the dangers of him not getting it checked out are only making matters worse,” I shot back. “Maybe it’s nothing. But he won’t know that unless he goes to the doctor and gets checked out. And I can’t drag his body to a vehicle and hoist him up into it when he’s knocked out and nothing but deadweight. I have zero upper body strength.” My eyes slid to Jamie’s thick, muscled shoulder. “You don’t seem to have that problem.”

Jamie was smiling softly when I looked back up into his face. “Maybe you give it another day. See how he is tomorrow night.”

“I doubt it’ll make much difference.”

“Might.”

“Slim chance.”

“Babe.”

“Mm?”

“Give it another day,” he repeated, not requesting this time but telling me that was what I needed to do, and there was something in Jamie’s voice I was hearing. Something comforting, like he knew I just needed another day, he was sure, and things would be better.

He was promising it. I didn’t understand how Jamie could do that, but I knew that’s what he was doing.

I let myself believe him. I wanted to.

Swallowing, I whispered a “’kay,” as I looked up into his face again, unobstructed by those sandy waves he had. “I really like your hair like that,” I shared.

He smiled; no teeth, just full lips stretching slow and dimples popping out.

I really liked his dimples, too. But I’d shared enough.

“That’s two,” Jamie replied, looking pleased.

My brows pulled together.

“Wearin’ you down, babe. First my cock. Now you’re diggin’ my hair. Pretty soon you’ll be admittin’ to likin’ it all. To likin’ me.”

“Never,” I returned, poker face engaged.

“It’ll happen.”

“Nope.”

“I’m wearin’ you down.”

“You’re letting our food get cold. That’s about the only thing you’re doing right now.”

Jamie threw his head back and roared with laughter, and from the angle I was sitting to him, I had full view of his neck, which was golden, had thick cords running down each side and muscles there, too, plus a predominant Adam’s apple, which was moving with his enjoyment.

I really liked his neck. Maybe more than his dimples.

He had a really good laugh, too.

When Jamie was finished finding what I said funny, he looked down at me again. He was grinning. Bright white teeth. Dimples. The whole shebang.

Nope. I liked his laugh and his neck, but his dimples were holding top rank.

“Better quit listenin’ to you list what all you like about me, then,” he said, humor still heavy in his voice. “Don’t know how good this food will be heated up twice.” He rounded the couch and the coffee table, looking to reclaim his seat.

“No threat there,” I replied, sounding sassy as I reached for my spring roll. “I just named the only other thing I like about you.”

Jamie didn’t sit at the far end of the couch this time, where he typically sat. No, he picked up my phone and placed it on the coffee table, then he sat on the cushion next to me, turning his head and looking over after he settled.

I didn’t know if he was looking at me waiting for me to protest or to question why he’d just chosen the middle cushion, which was the spot nobody chose unless they had to—it wasn’t as broken in and you didn’t have an armrest—but I didn’t do either.

Keeping his eyes, I bit into my spring roll, sharing around my mouthful, “Still warm. You’re lucky.”

Jamie’s gaze lowered to my mouth, his lips twitched, then his eyes met mine again. “Fuckin’ right I am,” he replied.

My cheeks heated. I knew he was not referring to being lucky in terms of the food. And before I reacted any more to hearing that, I broke eye contact and shoved as much spring roll into my mouth as possible.

We ate our dinner with the game muted, talking about random things. His sister, where she lived, and if she’d be visiting again soon. He didn’t know the answer to that last one, but she lived four hours away in the same town as his parents. Jamie told me about his lessons that day, and I told him about the staring match Stitch and Shay competed in when she took an order back that was wrong and was forced to speak to the man she was hell-bent on ignoring.

After we were finished eating and the leftovers were put away, we watched the rest of the game unmuted. I fell asleep sometime after the seventh inning stretch, my head starting out on Jamie’s shoulder and then getting moved to his chest when he pulled me down and stretched out on the couch, putting me between him and the back cushion and situating me so I was partially lying on top of him.

Belly full of food and horizontal with a good-smelling man under me, I couldn’t fight it. I dozed pretty quickly after that.

My eyes fluttered open when I felt cool satin underneath my legs and a sheet being pulled up my body. I was in my bed. I turned my head on the pillow and watched Jamie move toward the door.