insisted I have my own room to create “boundaries,” but I spent every night in Jamie’s bed. Lorna’s room became my art studio. There was a moment where I worried I was intruding too much in Jamie’s space and suggested I sleep in my room instead. He got pissed and did what he always did to stop me discussing anything that annoyed him.
He kissed me and then screwed my insecurities right out of me.
I didn’t mind his methods at all. They’d only become a problem if he avoided talking about something I really, really wanted to discuss.
As I found a seat on the bus, I bit my lip, staring out the window, feeling the ghost of Jamie’s hands and mouth on me. The last eight months had been intoxicating. I couldn’t think of a better word.
Our appetite for one another was insatiable.
Sex had only drawn us more tightly into our little bubble of two.
Yeah, we hung out with friends, mostly his track teammates from USC (even Wex, who got over his crush on me pretty fast), but if we were together, we were rarely not touching. I knew his friends gave him shit about it, but Jamie didn’t care.
I was his entire world.
And he was mine.
The bus let me off a block from the house, the October sun beating hard on my back as I sauntered happily home.
It was the first home I’d truly had since I was seven years old.
With Lorna gone, the horrible atmosphere she created whenever she was around went with her. My relief to have her on the other side of the country made me feel like a traitor, but I couldn’t deny Jamie and I were more relaxed without her around.
I knew Skye missed her, and I’d feel bad about it if I thought Jamie and I had chased Lorna away. But Columbia had been Lorna’s dream school since she was fourteen. Her not staying in close contact with her big sister was not anyone’s fault but Lorna’s.
She pushed everyone away.
I missed my best friend.
Not who she was now. But the little kid who enveloped me in her love without hesitation and offered me a home.
I missed that Lorna.
It was the only thing in my life now that was tainted by sadness. Still, it couldn’t touch my overall satisfaction. I’d gotten into my college of choice, I was living with people I loved, and I was the kind of “in love” that other people only read about or saw in movies.
It seemed that Fate was trying to make up for our hard start in life when She gave me and Jamie to one another.
As for Skye, she had won a role on a popular TV hospital drama. Approval ratings for her character were high, and she’d already signed a contract for the next season. This meant she’d insisted that Jamie lease a car. He’d insisted on nothing fancy and was driving a practical hybrid. Skye was driving around in a shiny white Mercedes convertible.
Two weeks ago, a woman turned up at the house asking for Skye’s autograph. How she found Skye’s address, we didn’t know, but it freaked Jamie out. He wanted us to move. Skye was calm about it all. Her social media followers had increased exponentially since joining the show, and she’d appeared in the gossip rags again, snapped out and around Hollywood with her friends. Skye took it in stride. It pissed her off when they’d posted a photo of her and Jamie, insinuating she had a boy toy, but that was the only time I’d seen her harassed by her increasing fame.
At the sight of Jamie’s and Skye’s cars parked outside the house, I smiled. They were my family now, and I appreciated returning to a house where my family was waiting. I really hoped I never lost that appreciation. I had a feeling that kind of gratitude was the key to happiness.
They weren’t inside the air-conditioned house, but I could hear raised voices coming from out back. The weather was especially hot this fall, and we were enjoying a rare break from the Santa Ana winds, so it didn’t surprise me they were probably enjoying the pool. The kitchen window was open as I passed, their conversation halting me on my progress to join them.
“You’re getting defensive,” Skye groaned.
I frowned, pausing.
“You just said you didn’t want Jane living here.”
My heart stopped. What?
“I did not,” she hissed. “I said, I wanted the sleeping-in-the-same-room thing to stop.”
“Why? We’re both adults.”
“No, Jamie. You’re