I wake up the next morning, Jameson's arm draped over me. (We decided one arm didn't count as cuddling; it's basically just holding hands.) I look down at the pile of clothes on my bedroom floor; everything except his boxers stripped off and discarded beside my bed. I sit up, perched on the edge of the bed and watching the sunlight stream through my windows. I walk into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door while I brush my teeth and wash my face. I brush my hair, then, as I push it back with a plaid headband, I notice a small, red mark just underneath my ear. Then it hits me; it's the hickey Jameson gave me.
"Shit," I whisper, realizing that, at least to my eye, it's much more noticeable than I was expecting.
As I'm reaching for concealer and a beauty blender, I hear the door creak open, and watch a half-naked Jameson walk into my bathroom. "Did no one ever teach you to knock before you walk into rooms?" I reprimand, "I could've been naked."
"Did anyone teach you to close doors?" he responds. He crouches in front of the sink, searching through my cabinets and finding an extra toothbrush I didn't even know was there. He looks over and notices me attempting to cover up the mark on my neck.
"You're doing that wrong," he says, walking closer to me. "May I?" he asks, gesturing to the makeup in my hands.
Instead of verbally answering, I hand him the supplies and toss my hair over my shoulder, exposing my ear and the dark mark underneath it. "Turn your head a little, please, I can't see," he says, cupping my jaw in his hand and gently turning my head to a different angle.
He reaches over, running water over the beauty blender then dotting blots of concealer over the hickey and blending them in. "Sorry, I know I said you could give me one," I say. "It's just...darker than they are in movies."
"Don't apologize," he says, scanning the counter for something.
"Sorry. Thanks for asking in the first place," I say.
"Actually, on that note," he says, finding what he's looking for; a small container of setting powder. "If you were uncomfortable with something, you would say something, right? Without caring about me?" He dabs the powder onto my neck, then closes the container and puts it back where it was.
"Yeah, of course. Same goes for you," I say dismissively.
"Really, Heiress, say no if something starts to happen that you don't want to do." He starts to brush his teeth as I put on some mascara and lip balm and mess with my hair, pulling it so it isn't in my face but still covers my ears.
Once he spits out his toothpaste and rinses his mouth out, he walks behind me, going back out into my bedroom. "So, 8:00?" he asks from my room, walking over to his mess of a wrinkled suit and putting his pants and shirt back on.
"Sounds good," I say. I walk into the doorway of my bathroom, leaning my shoulder against the wall. "Hey, um, Alisa put me on birth control but do you mind-"
"I'll still wear a condom, whatever you need," he says without hesitation while he buttons his shirt up.
"Thanks," I say, watching him put on his shoes and pick up his blazer.
"Don't worry about it. See you at 8:00," he says, walking over and giving me a quick kiss on the forehead.
I watch him leave, then go into my closet and change into my Country Day uniform.
I have no idea how I'm going to focus on schoolwork today.
Jameson Hawthorne is fucking me tonight. That's what I'm thinking during science class when Max walks up to me and takes the seat to my right. She opens her laptop up, pulling up a Google Document filled with vocabulary words pointing to various places on a green multi shaded Periodic Table. I've been missing too much school.
