Awkward Love (Stumbling into Love 2)

He tossed his arm over his eyes. I didn’t know where my courage came from, but I rolled to my side. Will was on his back, and I tugged his arm away from his face. He looked up at me with those damn blue eyes that rivaled the ocean. “Sometimes, I consider not going to grad school. Not using my degree at all and working with my dad. I know he loves me, but I also know I’m different from him. Like I said, I don’t fit, the same way you feel like you don’t fit. I would be miserable, though. I know it, but I still think about it, every day. I don’t want to follow in his footsteps, but sometimes, I’m afraid if I don’t, someone will replace me. That my sister will meet a guy, and he’d work with Dad, and he’ll be the son I never was. That someone, anyone, will come along, and they’ll hit it off, and he’ll think, This is who I wish Jameson was.”

I never told anyone that last part before, not even Kira or Ali.

“That would never happen,” Will said, but we both knew it was just one of those things people said, even though they had no way of knowing.

“Oh, and how do you know? Do you know my dad?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“If I did, I’d tell him how fucking adorable you are and that he’s lucky to have Professor Jameson as his son. Then he’d look at me and say, No shit, kid. How could I not know that?”

I laughed, leaned over, and laid my head on his chest. It was weird, that this was simply something I could do. That I didn’t feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, because Will somehow was taking that away. “If I met your brothers, I’d tell them to wake the hell up. I’d tell them how fucking adorable you are, and that they’re lucky to have you as a brother, and they’d be like, No shit, dork. How could we not know that?”

This time, Will was the one who chuckled. He wrapped his arm around me, his fingers dancing up and down my body, and I realized that we got each other. On the surface, it would be impossible to see how we could. We were so different, in so many ways, but we still understood each other. We felt similar.

“Thanks,” Will said after a few minutes.

“There’s nothing to thank me for.”

He kissed the top of my head, and we just lay there together. This wasn’t what we were supposed to be doing. This didn’t feel like orgasm-fling behavior, and there was that stupid term again, but I didn’t know what else to call it.

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, his fingers still drawing circles and squares on my arm.

“It’s getting late. I should head home. I have to work early tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I felt slightly disappointed. I’d hoped he would stay, which was so incredibly stupid, I shoved the idea into the corner of my mind and tried to forget it.

He kissed the top of my head again before I rolled over and Will stood up. He got dressed, and I followed him to the door.

“Sorry I didn’t make you come tonight. I’ll make up for it next time.”

My cheeks filled with warmth. “It’s okay.”

Will leaned in, held my face with both his hands, and pressed a soft kiss to my mouth, then walked out.

I still felt him against my lips, hours after he was gone.

I was still thinking about my evening with Will when I met with my mom the next day for lunch. He had been so sweet and sad in this way I was familiar with when it came to Will. He exuded a confidence that was sometimes hard to contain, but last night he’d been needy, he’d felt unwanted, and for whatever reason, he’d come to me. Yeah, it was likely because he thought we were going to have some kind of sex—and if he’d tried, I would have—yet he’d just talked to me instead. It had been perfect, and I had no business thinking of it that way. The last thing I needed was to get attached to him.

Something sharp hit my ear, and I jerked my head forward. “Ouch.”

“Boy, I said your name twice, and you wouldn’t snap out of it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, Mama.” I gave her a hug and a kiss. I’d been leaning against the car, waiting for her to arrive before going into the restaurant.

We were eating at a Cajun place we both loved. She hooked her arm with mine as we made our way through the parking lot. “What were you thinking about so intensely?”

The statistical probability of me telling her about Will was basically zero. Yeah, I’d already said I had a date, but I didn’t want to give her much more than that. She’d want to meet him or make it seem like more than it was. I definitely wasn’t telling her the whole point of it was to jizz our way through the summer. If forced, I’d give the bare necessities about the guy I was “dating,” but I’d try like hell not to. “Just school in the fall.”