Since it's my birthday, I decided to do something useful and write another chapter. Enjoy!
** Update** it's been two freaking years since I wrote this little fanfic thingy. I was only 12 when I did, which is a little concerning because I was writing some things I maybe shouldn't have 🤷♀️🤷♀️
⬌
I move around the room, throwing things into suitcases, making sure I have enough pairs of shoes, evaluating my clothing choices, and ignoring Jameson, who is sprawled across my bed, shirtless.
I suspect he's trying to distract me from what's important by using his muscles to lure me into his love trap.
I won't fall for that one again.
"Heiress, you refuse to look at me," Jameson lifts himself up on one elbow, his observation sparking a question, "Why?"
"You're distracting me," I answer simply, zipping my suitcase up. Jameson laughs, the sheets rustling with his movement.
I turn to face him, suitcase in hand, backpack slung across my shoulder, high heels digging into my hardwood floor. Jameson evaluates the sight, his eyes drinking in my skin and bones. It feels unusual to be wanted by somebody, craved to the point where they cannot go a day without touching you. Jameson looks at me as if I'm the most important thing to him, and I cannot deny I love him.
It's simply too soon to confess such attraction.
"When should we expect you back?" Jameson swings his long legs over the side of my bed, standing with such swiftness and precision, the movement reminding me of Grayson, his older brother. I pause my thoughts for a moment, remembering the interview where he kissed me, the sword fighting, the close moments we shared.
As quickly as I'm put in the trance, I snap out of it, answering Jameson's question, "Five days, at the most."
"I won't be able to kiss you for five days," Jameson comments, taking a step closer to me, his eyes flitting back and forth before my mouth and watchful eyes. He arches an eyebrow.
"That's correct," I reply.
Jameson turns, his finger rubbing his chin as he thinks. I watch the muscles in his back, each defined and sculpted, giving his skin the appearance of marble and stone.
He turns back, reeling me in by the waist. I close my eyes as he lowers his lips to mine, expecting a dramatic kiss that would brand my soul and melt my body.
Instead, it's a feather-light kiss, one that only a child would give. Jameson steps back too soon, too quickly. I frown as he grins.
"There will be more waiting when you get back."
Then he's gone.
