We aren’t kids anymore and Jameson gave up on me—on us. I can’t do this. I suck in a deep breath and close my eyes.
Just walk away, Peyton. You can do it one foot in front of the other.
It’s not that simple. Not for me. I’ve been waiting years for this moment. For the guy I fell in love with to come back and tell me he’s here to make things right. Only that can’t happen. I can’t allow it to.
The Jameson I lo
ved died five years ago. This guy standing in front of me is a stranger, no matter how much my heart remembers him.
No matter how much my body craves to lean into him and let the rest of the world melt away.
My cell phone pings, and I finally break away to look at my screen. Wes’s name is flashing on the device.
Stepping away from Jameson for privacy, I take a deep breath and answer this call hoping he doesn’t sense how shaky I am. “Hey, I’m just leaving the meeting.”
“How’s it going? I miss you.”
I sigh. “Wes, stop it, we ended it, okay. I know you’re upset, and whatever, but it’s done. We’re done.”
“Pey, sweetheart, I love you, we can work around this. We’ll just push the wedding off for a bit. Do your silly little show, and then we’ll get married when it’s over. I get that you need to get this out of your system. I do. I was young and had daydreams myself. I told you about that summer I took off and wanted to be a race car driver.”
“Stop, just stop. Why are you being like this now? Why? This has always been a dream of mine. Hell, even my own dad is encouraging this. I know what all of this is like. If I make it, we’ll never see each other or have time together anymore anyways. This is for the best. I don’t want to hurt you, I care about you, but please stop contacting me.”
I don’t want to deal with this on the damn street, so I hang up.
When I turn around, Jameson is gone.
He’s good at disappearing. It’s what he always does and yet it still hurts as much as it ever did.
Chapter 12
Jameson
Walking away from Peyton at the restaurant was hard, but I had to get away from her before I did something dangerous for both of us, like kissing her. Fuck, did I want to kiss her tears away. I’ve never been able to cope with her crying. I hate that I’m the cause of her pain, yet again. All I seem to do is hurt her.
When they dug up mine and Peyton’s past, it made me nervous. I knew when I was called into the office something was wrong. They filled me in on their plan. While I hate they want to exploit Peyton like this, maybe, just maybe I could have a shot at winning her back for real. This no longer feels like a singing competition anymore, it feels as though they want a twisted version of The Bachelor instead.
I could breach my contract and say fuck it. Leave now while I can. I should leave and let Peyton move on. I should’ve stayed away. However, the money this would cost me—what the publicity could do for the band…fuck. This could give Peyton a shot at what she’s always wanted.
The way she looked at me, as though I was her anchor, fuck, that shit right there tore at my chest and made me feel like the old me, the man I was before I lost her and allowed fame takeover. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I wish I could go back to when things were simpler, but I can’t. I’ve built up this persona for years. Built it up to shield myself from what’s buried beneath—my love for Peyton…my guilt for what I did.
My self-reflection is interrupted when the car stops outside the house I’ve been eyeing since I stepped back in town. It’s gorgeous and homey. An hour’s drive from the city, it has everything I could ever want complete with a fishing pond, that is fully stocked. I smile, at the thought. Peyton’s Pappy would love it.
He used to take me fishing on the weekends when Peyton went to her dad’s place in the city. In a way he was a grandpa to me too. Her Nan was always good to me as well. They treated me like family. The only person that hated me was Barb, Peyton’s step-mother. Man, that woman has a few screws loose. She also played a part in why I fucked it all up with Pey in the first place.
Flashback
Parking my truck in her driveway, I grab the photos I had printed off my cellphone and the photobook Ruby Jane picked out. It’s almost Christmas but Peyton’s sick. I’m not sure what’s going on with her.
I walk on in without knocking. Peyton and I have become permanent fixtures in each other’s lives and homes. We never go a day apart, unless she goes to her dad’s apartment in the city or I go to visit my mom.
I’ve never told Peyton the truth about my mom. My mom is a drug addict, who can’t see past her next fix to take care of Ruby Jane. We were about to go into foster care this year, but Rodney and Thea stepped up and was awarded custody of both of us. Ruby Jane’s dad tried taking her once but couldn’t handle raising her on his own. The first summer we came to stay with Thea and Rodney my mom was in rehab. She did good for six months and then she lost her job and fell into old habits. Our mom is also an alcoholic. She got so bad she would even drink mouthwash.
Ruby’s lucky. She doesn't remember the bad shit that I do. I always made sure my sister was taken care of. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’ve stole bread to make sure she didn’t go hungry. The smell of tater tots coming from the kitchen at Peyton’s makes my stomach turn. When I was in fifth grade, my mom had traded her food stamps for beer. If it wasn’t for the tater tots that I’d steal off my friend’s trays at lunch during school, I wouldn’t have eaten at night. I’d take the tater tots and wrap them in napkins and hide them in my pockets.
I’ll never forget one of my teachers making me empty my pockets one day in class and everyone laughing at me for having contraband tater tots. It was a Friday and I knew I wasn’t going to have any food at home for two days. I was so angry. Mrs. Blevins made me throw them in the trash. The next week I rode my bicycle to her house and put dogshit under the driver’s seat of her car.
“Jameson, that you?” Peyton calls from her room.