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“Night, Elliot. You know she’s a lightweight, right?” Madeline asked.
“I do now,” I responded at the same time Jamie yelled, “I am not!”
I hung up and shoved her phone in my pocket. She plopped down on one of the stools and dropped her chin into her palm. Her eyes dropped and all the emotion drained from her face before she took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds and then let it out through her mouth.
“It would have worked,” she mumbled softly. “I had it all worked out in my head . . .”
I dropped my shoulders and looked at the now-sad girl in front of me. Moments ago, she was full of energy, excited that everyone she loved in her life had an iPhone, ready to play a game of Clue, and now it looked like she was going to cry. I took a step forward and placed my hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently.
“I hate to tell you, but it really wouldn’t have worked.”
“Why did Jilly have to ask how we met? Why couldn’t she have just taken your answer?” she asked, lifting her chin to look at me face on.
I shrugged. “Well, in her defense, I didn’t know how you told her we met. I assumed we met with Milo and Madeline.”
“What if she finds out you're not really Daxton?”
“IamDaxton though. Elliot Daxton Whittaker, remember?”
She hummed and licked her lips. Straightening up her back slightly, she looked at my shoulders, my biceps, before finally settling her eyes on my forearm. She grabbed my hand, turning it so my palm was down, and she slowly pulled my sleeve up, revealing my tattoo. Jamie studied it, running her fingers over the black ink.
“A part of me wishes you could just be Elliot,” she whispered. “None of this stupid faking business. Just real dating. With the real Elliot and the real Jamie.”
Real dating, with the real me, and the real her. Was that something I needed to pay attention to? Or was it the alcohol talking? I had been looking at Jamie for months now; ever since I saw her for the first time at the Piano Bar. When all she saw wasClay, all I saw was her. I would give anything to be able to really, truly date her. Really, truly be able to call her mine. I was taking the three weeks as a trial period; hoping that maybe she would see it that way too. Jamie was something different, and I needed her to know she was truly remarkable.
I watched as her fingers traced the guitar strings that led to my elbow, her eyes following her finger’s every move. She sighed, and finally looked up at me to meet my gaze.
God, she was stunning. I could kiss her . . .
I broke free from my trance and slowly pulled my arm away from her. Standing, I reached out a hand for her.
“Come on, you. Let's get you to bed.”
“But we’re going to play Clue,” she said, still with sadness in her voice.
I laughed. “No, we never were. Come on, I’ll help you up the stairs.”
Finally, she nodded in agreement. Pushing herself to her feet, she fumbled, tripping over her own boots. I caught her, wrapping my arms around her waist and holding her close to my body. Her hands were flat on my chest as her chin raised to look at me.
“Elliot,” she whispered.
I answered her with a hum.
“Kiss me, like you did that night after the wedding.”
Taken aback, I leaned down ever so softly, my lips barely touching her, before I stopped.
“Not tonight,” I whispered against her lips.
“But you said you would kiss me.” She rested her chin on my chest, furrowing her eyebrows as she closed her eyes.
“Oh, trust me, I will.”
Jamie let out a small groan. “Please, I always think about that kiss. I know you want to.”
“I do, I really . . . really do, but Jamie . . .” I moved my hand and brushed the hair from her face, pulling it behind her ears, “I won't kiss you when you're not going to remember it. If you still want me to kiss you tomorrow, I will.”
Heaving a sigh, she pushed herself off my chest. “Oh trust me, I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day. I’ll definitely want you to kiss me tomorrow.”
