Like, really felt them. Felt them felt them. His laughter, too.

And his arms around me and his body beneath me and his heartbeat under my hand and please please please don’t let me wake up.

“Baby,” his soft voice whispered.

And even that felt real. Sounded real, too. Jamie’s breath on my forehead. His voice seeping into my ears and into my heart. His finger under my chin, gently lifting and wait …

I peeked my eyes open, slowly because I was scared. Scared of leaving my dream and the Jamie I could feel, here, right here, right now, because I knew the second I opened my eyes, he would be gone, back to his hotel room in Florida.

And I would go back to struggling for comfort in an unforgiving hospital chair that had needed new padding a good ten years ago.

Only now even as I slowly woke up, it felt like the most comfortable place in the world. Huh …

Breath catching in my throat, my eyes fluttered, barely opening, lashes obstructing my reality, then the finger under my chin added pressure, craning my head back and I gasped the second I felt his full, perfect mouth nibble and nip at mine before pressing into a kiss.

It lasted a second, barely, and it was gentle and sweet, not dirty like Jamie always kissed me. These weren’t lips that craved and needed. These were lips that cherished. That said, “Missed you,” and “Fuck, so much, babe,” and “Baby … Legs, look at me,” and wait …

Wait. No … My God. How good was this dream?

I pulled away from warm breath tickling my mouth and my cheek, slid my eyes fully open, and blinked at the face staring back at me.

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I blinked again. And again.

Then I shot ramrod straight, peeling my body off rock-solid muscle, and slid my hands over cheeks that scratched and bit my palms. I pushed my fingers through too-long hair that was gritty from sand and salt water curled and oh, my God oh, my God oh, my God.

I sucked in a breath. My boy of summer smiled and made my heart dance inside my chest.

He was here.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered into the dark room, quiet except for the beeping of the monitors and the sleepy sounds coming from my parents. “Oh, my God,” I repeated, staring into surprising eyes, still whispering but sounding more urgent now. “What time is it? How did you get here? How did you …” I glanced over Jamie’s shoulder and squinted through the window blinds, focusing in on the street-lights illuminating the parking lot. Then sliding my eyes back to his face and my hands to the tops of his shoulders, I leaned closer and asked, “Have I been asleep for days? How are you even here right now?”

I felt delirious and drugged from my dream.

Was it Sunday already?

Jamie laughed inside his chest. His smile lifted his cheeks.

“Travis,” he stated, wrapping his arm tighter around my back and giving me a squeeze. “He called when he got word on your dad being here. I took the first flight out I could get. Fuckin’ airline.” Jamie’s mouth hardened in irritation. His fingers tensed on my hip. “Would’ve been here sooner if we hadn’t gotten delayed on the tarmac waitin’ on a gate to free up. I tried callin’ you.”

“I left my phone at work,” I explained, frowning.

“Know that,” he replied. “Got your message when we landed. I think your mom’s phone is either off or dead. My call went straight to voice mail.”

It was dead. I knew the second it happened, too, considering how glued to it I had been.

“She doesn’t have her charger with her.” I pouted. “I gave her a nice long lecture about the importance of always keeping an extra in the car in case of emergencies like this.”

Jamie smirked. His arm around my back and his hand on my hip tugged me closer. “You fuckin’ missed me, girl,” he murmured in that teasing way he always did, running his nose along my cheek.

I closed my eyes, smiling and softly admitting, “Yeah,” as my hands slid around his warm neck. “Like crazy. I’ve decided I can’t handle you going to competitions without me. I need to be there, too. Oh”—my eyes flashed open and I leaned back—“do you have your trophy with you?” I asked him, then tilting on his lap, I looked on the floor beside the chair, spotting the black duffle bag he had packed for his trip. “I want to see it,” I added.

Jamie said nothing. Righting myself, I watched his smirk melt into something softer.

“What?” I asked, not understanding why he was looking at me the way he was doing.

“Got the call from Travis right before it was time for my run.” His shoulders lifted. “Couldn’t do it. Knew I needed to be here, so I left. I dropped out.”

“You left?” My eyes widened as I shifted closer. “You didn’t compete?”

Jamie shook his head.

“But …” I stared into his eyes, trying to comprehend. “You said you were always wanting to win that one. That your sponsors were there. They didn’t mind you leaving?”

“Don’t know since I didn’t ask what they fuckin’ thought about it. I just left,” he replied, not sounding remorseful about that decision one bit. “And yeah, I wanted to win that one. It would’ve been a nice title to claim, but I wanted to be here more than that. I didn’t know how serious this was gonna be with your dad. I didn’t want you havin’ to go through this alone even if it wasn’t serious, which, spoke to Travis and got the update. Glad to hear your dad’s gonna be straight, babe. That’s good. But honest? I got that update before I even boarded the fuckin’ plane to come here and I still boarded it. I wanted you more than that win. Wouldn’t be surprised if I felt that shit at every meet either, so don’t be shocked if this is a recurring thing. I like that you wanna come with me, Legs, but I know that ain’t gonna always be doable. You got a life here. A job you can’t be skipping out on. I leave and come back a day later or, fuck, hours later without a trophy, you know why.” He smiled, adding, “Ain’t ’cause some asshole beat me out. That ain’t ever gonna be the case.”




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