A Love Letter to Whiskey Page 19


Jamie leaned over the railing to the right of the sliding glass door I’d just exited, his back to me as he lifted his beer bottle to his lips. I slid up beside him, resting my elbows on the lip of the rail to mirror his and breathing in a deep inhale. The air was so fresh in California, so light. It was warm and salty just like Florida, but it didn’t have the same weight.

“It is,” I finally answered, turning to face him. I always loved that, the first sight of him, the first hit. It was a little jarring, like a slight burn, but the aftertaste was smooth, welcoming, like an old friend calling me home. “So you’re acknowledging my existence now?”

He tipped the bottle again with a shrug, but his eyes hadn’t left the ocean yet.

“Stop being a brat, Jamie Shaw,” I said, sipping on my own drink. He smirked then, I saw it out of the corner of my eye.

“I can’t believe you just called me a brat.”

“I can’t believe you’re acting like one.”

“How so?” he asked, finally facing me. He was on the defensive, but the line between his brows vanished once he really looked at me. I fought the urge to shield myself as his eyes trailed a fire down to my chest. I knew the top had paid off because he swallowed, eyes heated, and I suddenly wondered why I’d wanted that attention. I had a boyfriend, and yet this was it — this was the exact reason why I’d shelled out fifty bucks for a bathing suit top. For the look Jamie was giving me now, for the rush I felt along with it.

“By ignoring me for the past month,” I whispered, my voice failing me in my time of need, but it was enough to snap his attention back up to my face.

He scoffed. “I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve been busy. And I figured you probably were, too.” He didn’t finish that sentence, but I knew what he wanted to say was that I was probably busy with Ethan. He took a long swig from his bottle before bracing his elbows on the railing again. “How are you liking San Diego?”

I hated this conversation. It sounded forced, like two strangers instead of two people who used to share the deepest secrets. “It’s fine. I haven’t really seen much,” I replied flatly, one hand on the rail and the other on my hip as I remained facing him.

“Ethan’s not showing you around?” I didn’t miss the slightly mocking tone when he spoke Ethan’s name.

“He is,” I clarified. “He’s been taking me to a lot of places on campus. He’s been telling me a lot about the traditions on campus and giving me some ideas of organizations to join. I got a job at the coffee shop, too, which is great since he has the Student Government meetings there.”

Jamie’s profile was so strong against the moonlight, his jaw defined by the shadows that fell beneath it. “Sounds like you’re well on your way to becoming the senator’s wife.”

“Hardly,” I choked out on a laugh, and that finally made him look at me again. “I’m nineteen, Jamie.”

“And?” he answered quickly. “Ethan is already building that life. He’s working on the ultimate plan — right positions in SGA, right classes, right internships with notable politicians…” he paused. “Right girlfriend.”

I glanced through the sliding glass doors where Ethan stood in a group, laughing, telling a story that had everyone around him enthralled. Was that true? I knew he was into politics, knew that was where his future existed, but was he really planning it all out already? Was I part of that plan?

“So he’s serious about his future. Nothing wrong with that.”

He laughed. “How much do you really know about him?”

This time it was me on the defensive, and I crossed my arms beneath the coral top biting into my skin. It drew Jamie’s eyes down again, just for a second, but I smiled at the victory. “I know enough. And I like him, so drop it.”

When Jamie’s eyes met mine again, they were different. They reminded me of the night after he graduated, the hint of mischief, the glint of challenge. “What are you drinking?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but it stayed open, and I fought the smile threatening to break through. When I pressed my lips together to bite it back, Jamie grinned.

“B,” he said, and I felt the moment he stepped into my space, that familiar burn washing over me before the haze set in. “What are you drinking?”

I let out a long exhale. “Whiskey.”

A wide smile split his face just as the sliding glass door slid open, mixing our silent oasis with the chaos inside. Someone yelled something — what, I couldn’t be sure — and then bodies were splashing into the pool. It seemed it finally was an actual pool party, and just in time to save me from letting myself brush past the tipsy threshold with Whiskey.

“Let me show you around San Diego.”

Jamie was still standing close enough that I felt his breath on my lips with the words.

“I have to study.”

He laughed, but moved just a millimeter closer. The heat multiplied. “It doesn’t have to be tomorrow. Just let me take you out, show you your new home city. I bet you haven’t even surfed yet, and that’s just a crime.”

He was right, I hadn’t taken my board out yet, and I was itching to. My grip tightened on the rail, keeping me in place. I wanted to pull away, I wanted to lean in closer. I had no fucking idea what I wanted.

Finally, I found my voice long enough to answer. “Okay.”

“B!” My name found us from across the pool and Jamie and I both snapped our necks in unison to find the source. Ethan waved from where he’d slid up on a bar stool in the pool, calling me over. I nodded, smiling, and turned back to Jamie.

“I guess I’ll see you around.”

Jamie’s eyes were still hard on Ethan, but he finally ripped them away to look down at me once more. “Yes, you will.” He watched me for a minute, and I couldn’t shake the way his eyes had changed. They were a darker, deeper brown, shaded with bad intentions. “Remember how you used to say I don’t play fair?”

I cocked a brow. “Yeah…”

His eyes smoldered as he stepped away from me, and I felt the loss of energy instantly. He wet his lips, and my eyes followed the sweep of his tongue.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget.”

With that, he gripped the Alder t-shirt he was wearing by the back collar and stripped it over his head, letting it fall beside his feet. My breath caught at the sight of his abs on full display, their definition stronger than the last time I’d seen them. I noted the scar just above his hip, the one I wanted so desperately to trace with my fingers, and I found his eyes again just in time for him to wink. Then, he climbed onto the railing and jumped into the pool to the sound of a roaring crowd.

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