I cock an eyebrow at him. “So, what’s wrong with ironing a shirt?”
“He’d only go to school if she ironed them that morning and they were still warm when he put them on.”
“Your friends are such brats.” I snort from laughing so hard. “And what about you? You have a weird story, too?”
“Are you kidding me? If I as much as complained when I was a kid, my dad would tell me a sob story about his childhood and how he never knew if he’d eat. Then, he’d tell me I should consider myself lucky that I don’t have to walk to school or starve to death.”
“Sounds like your dad grew up more like me.”
His expression darkens, his voice lower. “Is it really that bad for you?”
I shake my head, turning away from him to flip the French toast. “No, not at all. But we don’t have any money. Just enough to get by.”
“My dad said if he could give all the money back, he would. That’s why he donates so much of it to charity. He feels guilty.”
“He shouldn’t,” I say. “He works hard for it. Your dad kinda gives me hope. If someone who came from a worse situation than me can build an empire, then I can make my dream happen, too.”
“My dad will like you,” he says. “He loves people with entrepreneurial minds. Actually, he has an internship program for young entrepreneurs.”
“For tech, though, right?”
He nods. “Yeah. He works with coders and teaches them how to become video game developers.”
“That’s amazing,” I mutter. “Now, I see where you get it from.”
“He wants me to make a choice,” Jamie confesses. “Between hockey and his company.” He peeks over at his friends who are talking amongst themselves at the kitchen table. “But I haven’t decided.”
“They don’t know,” I say in a hushed tone. “Do they?”
“Only Preston does,” he admits. Jamie bites the inside of his cheek, clearly torn between both sides of his life. “It’s complicated.”
“Sounds like it.” I lift a heavy tray filled with French toast and hand it to Jamie. “You ready to eat?”
He pats his stomach and then takes the tray with a smile. “I can always eat.”
After we finish, Jamie orders his friends to clean up the mess and then runs upstairs to grab our bags. I meet him at the front door, holding it open with my back for him to pass through.
He extends his hand to me, shifting the weight of our backpacks over his right shoulder. “Can I walk you to class?”
My heart melts from the boyish look on his handsome face. “I’ll allow it,” I joke, slipping my fingers between his.
He laughs, squeezing my hand as we walk down the street. “Thanks for making breakfast for everyone.”
“No problem.” I shrug. “I was up early and needed something to do until class starts.”
“I’m afraid they’ll get used to it and expect you to cook for them every time they see you. None of them can take care of themselves. Well, Preston can…”
“If I’m cooking for you and there’s enough food for everyone, I don’t mind.”
“You really don’t have to do that for me,” he says, his tone serious. “I appreciate it, Shan, but I don’t want you to feel taken advantage of.”
“I never do things I don’t want to do.”
“Okay.” He sighs. “But I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”
I glance over at him and smile. “Me either. I like you, Jamie. I always thought of you as a friend.”
He cocks his head in my direction, one eyebrow raised. “And now?”
“Definitely more than a friend. There’s no going back now.”
Jamie winks.
We walk the rest of the way to Penn Hall in silence, dodging students crowding the walkways as we pass.
“Am I going to see you this weekend?” I ask when we stop in front of my building.
He looks confused at first until it dawns on him. “Oh, right. The dance thing. Yeah, I’ll be there. Is it okay if I bring some of my teammates? I invited a few of them already.”
“Of course. Invite whoever you want. We need as many votes as we can get to win.”
Jamie hooks his arm around my back and gives me a one-arm hug, kissing my forehead in the process. “I have a lot going on today and tomorrow with school and hockey, but I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to watch you dance.” A smirk turns up the right side of his mouth. “Especially after getting a preview of your moves last night.”
“Typical man,” I quip. “Always thinking with the wrong head.”
He snickers, releasing me from his grasp. “I had fun last night. We should do it again.”
“Yeah, we should.”
“I’ll text you later. Okay?”
I nod. “More than okay.”
Jamie’s smile mirrors mine, and as I watch him walk away, my heart slams into my chest. So many feelings hit me at once. Going from friends to lovers almost overnight is kind of overwhelming. And the problem with having sex with your friend? You have a lot more to lose if it doesn’t work out.