The Studying Hours (How to Date a Douchebag 1)

I lean down to kiss her smiling lips, heft my bag, and shoulder into the hotel room. “Wow. Place looks just how we left it.”

“Yup.” Jameson pops her P with a loud smack. “Same bed, same dresser, same tiny bathroom.”

“Ah yes, the tiny bathroom of sin, scene of all masturbatory emissions.” My laugh fills the outdated hotel room as I walk to the dresser to set my things down.

“Could you please not remind me?” Jameson’s question hits my back.

I glance over my shoulder. “You stood and watched babe. It couldn’t have been that awful.”

“That’s only because I was caught off guard.”

“Righttttt…but then you listened at the door as I finished.”

“I find it very rude of you to bring that up,” she points out indignantly.

“Rule number twenty…”

Jameson holds up a finger and gives it a flirty little wiggle. “Nuh uh—we’re up to twenty-three.”

“Oh pardon me, ma’am. Rule number twenty-three: while we’re on vacation this weekend, we have to try to do everything the way we did it last time we were here.”

She’s skeptical. “You want to go to the lobby and watch me give my number to complete strangers?”

“Sure! It will be romantic.”

“That trip was not romantic. It was exhausting.”

“You didn’t think it was romantic when I tackled you in the snow on the way back to the bus?”

“Not really, no.”

“Bullshit. You moaned when I fell on top of you.”

“No, you were squishing me and I was trying to push you off. There’s a huge difference. Plus, I had snow down my pants.”

“Hmmm.” I think for a second, trying to think of all the nice things we did in Snowbasin when we were here last, but only a few things stick out in my mind. “You slept with me in the same bed because you couldn’t resist me. Admit it, that pillow wall was a desperate ploy for my attention.”

My gorgeous girlfriend bites down on her smile. “Fine, I’ll admit it—I might have wanted to snuggle up to you in bed, but you have to admit you had a huge crush on me.”

I look at her like she’s crazy. “Pfft, of course I had a huge crush on you—probably from the moment we met. You’re fucking adorable.”

My delivery might be saying What’s the big deal, but Jameson’s expression rivals the time I gave her a dozen long-stem red roses. “Sometimes you say the sweetest things!”

“Only sometimes?” I move closer, teasing as she pulls the bed linens down and fluffs the pillows.

Jameson yawns, tired from traveling. “Fine. Most of the time.”

And she’s right; rarely am I an asshole to her. I’ve reserved the sensitive and softer side no one else has the privilege of seeing for Jameson. As lame as it fucking sounds, she’s the light in my life.

And if anyone heard me saying shit like that, I’d get my ass beat.

Not that I’d care.

Slowly, James unsnaps the fly of her jeans, pushing the dark denim down her hips. “I’m exhausted.”

“My family won’t be here for, oh”—I check my phone for the time—“another twenty-four hours. How shall we ever pass the time?”

“Speaking of your parents, I can’t believe you never told them we were going to arrive early. And I can’t believe they’re giving up their Thanksgiving holiday to come all this way to be with us.”

I snort. “Please. My mom thought this would be more fun than cramming all those people into our tiny house. Plus, now she doesn’t have to cook. She hates cooking and always fucks up the turkey.”

“I know, but—”

“Trust me, they’re pumped.”

A frown mars her forehead. “I know, but are you sure you’re okay giving up your spring break to be here now?”

“You’re going to be with me in March, so what do I care if I go anywhere.” I shrug. That’s what we decided when we booked this trip: we’d spend the Thanksgiving holiday in Utah with my family, then stay home and work through spring break to save up money for an apartment. We plan on living together the rest of our senior year—as soon as we have enough money for a deposit. “Relax. You have nothing to be nervous about.”

I watch as she nibbles the nail of her thumb nervously. “I’m anxious about meeting your parents.”

“Babe, they’re going to love you. And you’ve already texted with Kayla a bunch of times—she thinks you’re the shit.”

“Right, but moms are different.”

Her concern has me dipping down to kiss her mouth. “Stop worrying. We’re going to have a blast. And aren’t you glad we have enough snow this early in the season to do some boarding, lift tickets compliments of Zeke Daniels and his five hundred bucks?”

That perks her up.

“Heck yes. So glad he finally paid you.” Jameson unzips her purple suitcase to retrieve her snow pants and jacket, hanging them inside the small closet. “I’m ready to take on the mountain.”

I dig mine out and they join hers. “Can you at least pretend to wait for me as I creep down the hill behind you?”

“We’ll see. Try to keep up and we won’t have a problem, will we old man?” With a cocky, confident flick of her hand, James gives her hair a toss.

“It’s fine; I love watching you—especially your ass from behind.”