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Jamie stopped in the center of the bookstore’s aisle, that feeling of complete excitement and utter ecstasy coming over him again. It’d been thirty-six hours since he’d kissed Rachel (though to callthata kiss was absurd—it’d been a mating) and he could still feel it. At odd times, it snuck up on him when he least expected it, and he felt his knees wobble all over again.
Even here, among the stacks of books.
Kissing wasn’t something that he did. Now he wondered if he’d been short-changing himself.
No—kissing anyone else wouldn’t have been anything like kissing Rachel. That was…
Magic.
He got out his mobile and texted Coco.
Jamie
Remember how you tried to explain kissing to me?
She replied right away.
Coco
That it was like enjoying the most delicious ice cream cone, where you could lick and lick and lick but there was still more?
Jamie
THAT.
Coco
What’s her name?
Jamie
Rachel.
Coco
When do I get to meet her?
Jamie
I’ll send you a pic.
Coco
That doesn’t answer my question.??
Jamie
Maybe because I don’t have an answer.??
Coco
Ha! How does that feel, Mr. I-always-know?
It felt topsy-turvy, to tell the truth.
He hadn’t told Rachel who he was and what he did for a living yet.
Monday night, at Clancy’s, he’d had the perfect opening when she’d talked about him obviously having money, but he hadn’t taken the shot. All he’d had to do was say, “Rachel, you see this whiskey I’m drinking? My family started that. Oh, and I’m also an international football star.”
