A Love Letter to Whiskey (11 page)

I did a lot of looking around for the first hour, hanging onto Ethan’s arm as he walked around to different groups. Everyone knew Ethan, mostly because of his position on Student Government, and it was magical watching him talk to so many diverse groups of people. He just clicked with everyone.

I joined him for a few dances in the middle of the makeshift dance floor before the music and the heat inside got to be a little too much. It wasn’t that I wasn’t enjoying myself, because I was, but I just needed air — a little silence — a little calmness.

“I’m going to step outside for a sec,” I screamed over the music into Ethan’s ear. He nodded and I kissed him on the cheek before pushing my way through the crowd. I passed a coffee table lined with four lines of coke and tried not to stare as four eager girls made them disappear to a roar of applause around them.

This was
definitely
not a PSU party.

As soon as I shut the sliding glass door behind me, it was like shutting off the entire world. Silence. Beautiful silence.

I actually sighed, taking one deep inhale of the salty air before turning to find one of the most beautiful pools I’d ever seen. It was just below the balcony where I stood and was set in gray rock, with a swim up bar to the left side. There was a waterfall just above the bar, and a mini bridge that connected the two sides of the pool. To the right, it had the illusion of completely dropping off into the ocean that lay spread out below it. The moon was bright that night, and it lit up the ocean in a straight line that continued through the top of the pool to the exact spot where I stood.

It was odd. Everyone was dressed for a pool party, but not a single soul was actually in the pool.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

I probably should have jumped at his voice, but I think my body already knew he was there. It was buzzing, just slightly, like when in the presence of a ghost.

Jamie leaned over the railing to the right of the sliding glass door I’d just exited, his back to me as he lifted his beer bottle to his lips. I slid up beside him, resting my elbows on the lip of the rail to mirror his and breathing in a deep inhale. The air was so fresh in California, so light. It was warm and salty just like Florida, but it didn’t have the same weight.

“It is,” I finally answered, turning to face him. I always loved that, the first sight of him, the first hit. It was a little jarring, like a slight burn, but the aftertaste was smooth, welcoming, like an old friend calling me home. “So you’re acknowledging my existence now?”

He tipped the bottle again with a shrug, but his eyes hadn’t left the ocean yet.

“Stop being a brat, Jamie Shaw,” I said, sipping on my own drink. He smirked then, I saw it out of the corner of my eye.

“I can’t believe you just called me a brat.”

“I can’t believe you’re acting like one.”

“How so?” he asked, finally facing me. He was on the defensive, but the line between his brows vanished once he really looked at me. I fought the urge to shield myself as his eyes trailed a fire down to my chest. I knew the top had paid off because he swallowed, eyes heated, and I suddenly wondered why I’d wanted that attention. I had a boyfriend, and yet this was it — this was the exact reason why I’d shelled out fifty bucks for a bathing suit top. For the look Jamie was giving me now, for the rush I felt along with it.

“By ignoring me for the past month,” I whispered, my voice failing me in my time of need, but it was enough to snap his attention back up to my face.

He scoffed. “I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve been busy. And I figured you probably were, too.” He didn’t finish that sentence, but I knew what he wanted to say was that I was probably busy
with Ethan
. He took a long swig from his bottle before bracing his elbows on the railing again. “How are you liking San Diego?”

I hated this conversation. It sounded forced, like two strangers instead of two people who used to share the deepest secrets. “It’s fine. I haven’t really seen much,” I replied flatly, one hand on the rail and the other on my hip as I remained facing him.

“Ethan’s not showing you around?” I didn’t miss the slightly mocking tone when he spoke Ethan’s name.

“He is,” I clarified. “He’s been taking me to a lot of places on campus. He’s been telling me a lot about the traditions on campus and giving me some ideas of organizations to join. I got a job at the coffee shop, too, which is great since he has the Student Government meetings there.”

Jamie’s profile was so strong against the moonlight, his jaw defined by the shadows that fell beneath it. “Sounds like you’re well on your way to becoming the senator’s wife.”

“Hardly,” I choked out on a laugh, and that finally made him look at me again. “I’m nineteen, Jamie.”

“And?” he answered quickly. “Ethan is already building that life. He’s working on the ultimate plan — right positions in SGA, right classes, right internships with notable politicians…” he paused. “Right girlfriend.”

I glanced through the sliding glass doors where Ethan stood in a group, laughing, telling a story that had everyone around him enthralled. Was that true? I knew he was into politics, knew that was where his future existed, but was he really planning it all out already? Was
I
part of that plan?

“So he’s serious about his future. Nothing wrong with that.”

He laughed. “How much do you really know about him?”

This time it was me on the defensive, and I crossed my arms beneath the coral top biting into my skin. It drew Jamie’s eyes down again, just for a second, but I smiled at the victory. “I know enough. And I like him, so drop it.”

When Jamie’s eyes met mine again, they were different. They reminded me of the night after he graduated, the hint of mischief, the glint of challenge. “What are you drinking?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but it stayed open, and I fought the smile threatening to break through. When I pressed my lips together to bite it back, Jamie grinned.

“B,” he said, and I felt the moment he stepped into my space, that familiar burn washing over me before the haze set in. “What are you drinking?”

I let out a long exhale. “Whiskey.”

A wide smile split his face just as the sliding glass door slid open, mixing our silent oasis with the chaos inside. Someone yelled something — what, I couldn’t be sure — and then bodies were splashing into the pool. It seemed it finally was an actual pool party, and just in time to save me from letting myself brush past the tipsy threshold with Whiskey.

“Let me show you around San Diego.”

Jamie was still standing close enough that I felt his breath on my lips with the words.

“I have to study.”

He laughed, but moved just a millimeter closer. The heat multiplied. “It doesn’t have to be tomorrow. Just let me take you out, show you your new home city. I bet you haven’t even surfed yet, and that’s just a crime.”

He was right, I hadn’t taken my board out yet, and I was itching to. My grip tightened on the rail, keeping me in place. I wanted to pull away, I wanted to lean in closer. I had no fucking idea what I wanted.

Finally, I found my voice long enough to answer. “Okay.”

“B!” My name found us from across the pool and Jamie and I both snapped our necks in unison to find the source. Ethan waved from where he’d slid up on a bar stool in the pool, calling me over. I nodded, smiling, and turned back to Jamie.

“I guess I’ll see you around.”

Jamie’s eyes were still hard on Ethan, but he finally ripped them away to look down at me once more. “Yes, you will.” He watched me for a minute, and I couldn’t shake the way his eyes had changed. They were a darker, deeper brown, shaded with bad intentions. “Remember how you used to say I don’t play fair?”

I cocked a brow. “Yeah…”

His eyes smoldered as he stepped away from me, and I felt the loss of energy instantly. He wet his lips, and my eyes followed the sweep of his tongue.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget.”

With that, he gripped the Alder t-shirt he was wearing by the back collar and stripped it over his head, letting it fall beside his feet. My breath caught at the sight of his abs on full display, their definition stronger than the last time I’d seen them. I noted the scar just above his hip, the one I wanted so desperately to trace with my fingers, and I found his eyes again just in time for him to wink. Then, he climbed onto the railing and jumped into the pool to the sound of a roaring crowd.

You know those gut feelings you get that warn you of impending doom? I had swarms of them that night as we danced around each other at the party, never getting close enough to talk again, yet never getting completely out of the other’s sight. I stayed close to Ethan and Jamie kept his distance, but whenever our eyes met across the crowd, my stomach twisted in warning.

I should have listened, but if you haven’t learned by now, caution signs didn’t work when it came to Jamie.

EVEN THOUGH I KNEW EVENTUALLY
I would cave, I did resist the first few times Jamie asked me to hang out after that night. The first time, not even a full week later, I said I was studying. The time after that, I was with Ethan. And, the third time, I claimed period cramps. I thought for sure he’d let it go after that last excuse . But the thing about whiskey is that it’s a stubborn drink that refuses to be ignored. It doesn’t just sit on a shelf in a pretty bottle and wait patiently. No, it clamors for attention, and that was just shitty news for thirsty fools like me.

It was only ten in the morning and yet I’d already worked a full six-hour shift at the coffee shop. Opening sucked, especially since the biggest rush of the day came between six and nine. Thankful as I was for the job, I missed sleeping in something fierce.

I was yawning, ready for a Friday spent curled up in my tiny twin bed when I rounded the corner to my dorm and saw Jamie leaned up against the same cherry red Jeep he’d driven in high school. He wasn’t even in a parking spot, just pulled up against the curb closest to the entrance of the community where my dorm was housed.

He didn’t see me at first, and I took those few stolen moments to shamelessly check him out. He was still just as lean and tall as he was in high school, but his arms had filled out since then. In fact, it seemed all of him had filled out — even his neck, which was a strange thing to notice about a person, but I did. He was in a weird state of being between the high schooler I’d left on the beach over a year ago and the man I wasn’t sure I’d have the privilege of knowing five years from now.

When he noticed me approaching, Jamie stood straighter, a shit-eating grin in place. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he offered as I approached him with another yawn.

“Pretty sure this is illegal,” I spoke through it, my voice morphed, pointing to his Jeep in a sweeping motion.

“It’s okay. No chance of being caught since we’re about to move.”

“We?”

He nodded. “We. Hop in.”

“Jamie…” I started to argue.

“Nope. No excuses. I’ve heard enough of those over the past few weeks.” He pushed off his Jeep and circled to the other side, opening his passenger door. “Let’s go.”

“I’m so tired. And I’m not dressed for anything.” I motioned to the white jean shorts and pale-green polo I’d worn to work.

“What you’re wearing is fine. And we’ll get coffee.” He lifted a brow, nodding toward the front seat again. “Come on. In.”

I debated arguing again, but at that point I knew it was useless. “Brat,” I huffed as I slid inside.

Jamie smirked, but didn’t press his luck, simply shutting the door behind me and jogging around to the driver side. I have to admit, it was surreal being back in that seat, in that Jeep. A rush of memories flooded in, of long nights driving around our lazy beach town in South Florida, talking about our fears, our secrets, our dreams.

“She’s missed you,” he said, watching me as my fingers traced the dash.

“She?”

“ScarJo,” he answered, opening his arms wide to gesture to his car.

“Oh my God, you can’t be serious. Like Scarlett Johansen?”

“Hey!” Jamie defended. “Don’t judge! I was a horny sixteen-year-old when I got her.”

“Nerd,” I teased, but when I ran my hand over the door panel, I sighed contently and leaned back into the seat, kicking off my sandals and propping my feet on the dash.
Home.
“It does sort of feel like this seat belongs to me.”