Something More Page 9

  “No, you’re not,” she reasoned, pulling her hand away and putting it on her lap. “You might be infatuated with me, but you don’t love me.”

  “How do you know that?” he asked, as he scooted a little closer to her. “Because you were so mean in high school. You made my life miserable. I didn’t have a queen bee to be afraid of. I had you. I tried to hide from you, yet you always found me. There were days I dreaded going to school. And now, here you are, and you’re in almost every aspect of my life, dating my supervisor, who, by the way, wow, really?” She rolled her eyes. “And—”

  “You’re jealous,” he interrupted her.

  “I am not,” she defended, appalled. He closed the gap between them.

  “I broke things off with Angela.” He put his hand behind her back on the bed and leaned into her. She willed herself to stand and cross the room, but she couldn’t. She looked down at her hands in her lap. “You should just go ahead and admit you have feelings for me, too. Maybe not love, but we are drawn to each other. You feel the pull as strongly as I do. You always have, the same way I have.” He lifted her chin and forced her to turn her head and look at him.

  “Don’t touch me.” She pulled away, finally standing, and crossed the kitchen to put some distance between them. “I don’t know what happened tonight. Maybe it was the nostalgia of remembering our first kiss or pent up aggression, but I don’t love you. I don’t even like you; I never have.” She felt a pain in her stomach even as she said the words. She knew she was lying. She felt something for him, but she didn’t want to. She didn’t know if she’d always felt it because he was horrible to her, but recently she had felt it. He stood and crossed the room not giving her the space she craved so that she could think straight.

  “You are in love with me.” He stood in front of her now; he put both of his hands against the counter cornering her against it.

  “You’re mistaken.” She pushed against his still bare, smooth, perfectly sculpted chest to push him away. He wouldn’t budge. He pressed himself against her and leaned into her ear.

  “You are in love with me.” His lips grazed her ear and sent chills down her spine. His lips hovered over her neck, and he breathed in deeply. “I’m not going to leave you alone either. You’ve made me a better person, and I will prove my worth to you.” Then he pulled away from her and watched her face for a long moment as if he were looking for something. Then he crossed back to her bed, picked his shirt up, and turned it right-side-out. She leaned against the counter, unable to walk. If she tried, she might collapse. He watched her as he put his shirt back on. She allowed her eyes to look at his abs as his face was covered, but they were back on his face when he pulled the shirt down. He reached for his jacket; still, his eyes were locked on hers. He turned, opened the door, and looked at her once more. “Make sure you use the chain; I won’t sleep unless you promise me.” She nodded OK. He turned back to the open door, to the hallway, and just stood there. Suddenly, he closed the door and took five long strides and was in front of her again, pressed against her. He kissed her again. He kissed her roughly and desperately, his hand trailing up her thigh and squeezing her. She lost her breath, and he pulled away and looked at her. Her eyes were still closed, her lips still reaching for his. She opened her eyes and looked at him dreamily; he smiled with the knowledge that she was in love with him as much as he was with her.

  “I love you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead to hers as his hands twined in her hair behind her neck. She didn’t say anything; she just looked at him, her eyes clouded with worry. “It’s OK. I know the truth now. When you’re ready, I’m here.”

  Chapter 12

  There was a sexy glow to Nyla’s face when she rushed into anthropology almost late. Ethan noticed it right away. She looked hotter than he had ever seen her. He had noticed the same air about Jamison after he came home the night before.

  When Jamison had entered the apartment, Ethan still sat at the kitchen table. He waited up for him much as a father would for his rebellious son. He thought maybe he’d gone to see Nyla after she left, but when he asked Nyla if she’d made it home safely alone, she’d said she had. When Jamison came in, he ignored Ethan completely.

  “What did you say to Nyla out on the terrace?” Ethan demanded as Jamison walked across the room toward his bedroom. “What did you say that upset her so much?” Ethan pressed after Jamison didn’t answer him.

  “I apologized for stuff from high school,” he said as he reached for his door knob. What happened between Jamison and Nyla was no longer Ethan’s business. Jamison knew his days were numbered; he no longer cared about

  Ethan’s feelings.

  “I want you to stay away from her.” Ethan stood and crossed his arms.

  “That isn’t your decision,” Jamison turned and said solemnly. His expression was warning to Ethan, but he ignored it.

  “It’s part of my decision to make. I want you out of our groups.” He glared at Jamison.

  “We’ll put it to a vote tomorrow,” Jamison said as he went into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

  Nyla refused to look at either Ethan or Jamison, instead smiling at Maddie as she sat down in the seat beside her. She could feel both Ethan and Jamison’s eyes on her. The thought of Jamison watching her made her flush. She dropped her book as she pulled it out of her bag. She quickly recovered it and sat quietly as their professor began his lecture. After class Ethan waited patiently for her. She gathered her things. As she stood he took her hand but she jerked it away. It didn’t feel right, but after seeing the confused look in his eyes, she gave it back to him. She glanced at Jamison, who was taking his time putting his books into his bag and watching her. She looked away.

  “Are you OK?” Ethan asked as they walked across the quad.

  “Yeah, just didn’t sleep well last night.” She shrugged.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked hopefully.

  “This.” She squeezed his hand as they entered their Spanish class.

  Jamison watched her. His chest ached to reach out to her. He couldn’t concentrate in class and gave the wrong answer each time he was called on. Finally, his suffering was over. Class ended, and he couldn’t stand to look at her any longer without touching her, holding her, and kissing her. He heard Ethan ask her to lunch. She declined saying she wanted to go home to rest. Ethan still looked at Jamison accusingly. They had settled nothing the night before. Jamison knew that, and he knew that Ethan wouldn’t let it drop either. He didn’t go home himself. He found himself wandering the streets of their neighborhood. Then he found himself outside of her building standing there looking up at her third-floor window. He saw the curtains move but still watched, hoping that she was up there thinking about him, maybe pacing, wondering how she was going to break up with Ethan. His phone rang; it was her.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  “If I let you up, can you be trusted?”

  “What do you think?” He smiled up to see her peering down looking at him.

  “I think I should leave you on the sidewalk, but we have to talk about what happened last night. If I let you up, you can’t try to kiss me or even touch me.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked.

  “I’m serious Jamison,” she spoke softly but sternly.

  “I know,” he sighed as he hung up the phone and approached the door to her building. He heard the mechanical lock buzz and opened the door. He climbed the stairs two at a time, and within seconds, he was standing at her door. It was cracked open. He pushed it open and stepped inside, closing it behind him. She stood in the kitchen holding a coffee mug in both hands and leaning against the counter waiting for him. He leaned against the door and looked at her. Her living room/bedroom was in living room form. She didn’t say anything for a long time; she just looked at him.

  “What happened last night can never happen again, Jamison,” she said in the most adult voice that she could muster. He didn’t say anything. He just looked at her with a penetr
ating stare. She continued, “I’m in a relationship with Ethan, and I want to give that a shot. He deserves to have a shot.” She looked down at her coffee mug, unable to look at his face any longer.

  “What do you deserve?” Jamison asked, taking a step toward her.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, looking up at him in alarm. He took another step toward her.

  “You deserve to be happy and be challenged and have passion. You felt it last night, that heat between us.” He took another step toward her. She warned him with her furrowed eyes.

  “You and Ethan will not be anything other than friends.” He stood in the threshold of the kitchen.

  “I need that chance, if that’s the case, to learn for myself. But I’m asking you, if you have feelings for me like you say you do, not to interfere.” He looked down at the floor, not wanting to hear the rest. She continued, “That means we’re casual friends. I don’t think it would be a good idea if we sit in Wilson’s lecture together.” He began to formulate a plan as he opened his mouth to interrupt her. “And—” She held up her hand as she continued, “We can’t tell anyone about this. It would only hurt Ethan if he found out. Also, we shouldn’t be alone together.” She looked resolved. He realized that she was setting these guidelines up as much for herself as for him.

  “If you can keep these rules, then I can,” he said, nodding his head to her.

  “That is my intention. Ethan sent out an email saying he wants you out of the groups. I have responded and said it’s not necessary. It’s not fair to kick you out for no reason.” She was all business now.

  “Thank you,” he said softly. She stood there ready to dismiss him, but he wasn’t ready to go. He had his piece to say; he summoned the courage as she looked at him. She expected him to turn and leave; he didn’t.

  “I will do what you want on two conditions.” He looked at her, and she rolled her eyes. “First, when you accept that you want to be with me, I will be the first person you tell.” He closed the distance between them and took the coffee mug from her hand and sat it on the counter. “And—” He paused, searching her eyes, before he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. He kissed her long. She kissed him back and finally put her arms around his neck as he tried to pull away.

  “See, that is why I was leery of asking you up,” she accused him and pounded her fist against his chest, but she didn’t leave his embrace.

  “That was my second condition. That should hold me over until all this other stuff blows over.” He smoothed her hair away from her face. She looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, hoping her desperation didn’t show. He kissed her forehead. Then he turned and left her apartment. He left her standing there watching him leave.

  Chapter 13

  It took a couple of weeks for things to feel normal again, or the new normal, because Jamison no longer spoke to Nyla unless she addressed him first. He rarely showed up randomly where she was, and when he did, it was purely coincidence. When he did, he ignored her as if she wasn’t there. He still stole glances at her, but she didn’t see them. Neither did Ethan. He began to dream every night about her coming to him and confessing her love for him; in those dreams he always made love to her.

  In the groups, he was himself as much as he could be, but he held back. He didn’t want to make Nyla uncomfortable. Her happiness was his priority now, and if Ethan made her happy, he would accept it, but he could never move on. Ethan had backed off his case when Nyla was around, but living with him was becoming unbearable. He didn’t respect Jamison’s rules for the apartment, and he purposefully made messes that he refused to clean up.

  It was beginning really to bother Nyla that Jamison was being so casual. There was a week and half left of school, and she was counting the days till she could go back home and ignore both Ethan and Jamison. Ethan wanted so much more, so much faster than she was willing to give him. Just the night before when they were in her apartment having a makeout session on her couch, he tried to put his hand up her shirt. He had gently lifted her blouse and softly traced her skin. She smacked his hand away, leading it out of her shirt, he groaned in frustration. She ignored it and smiled at him innocently.

  “What are we waiting for?” he asked, as he moved his hand to her side, trying to cop a feel of her breast.

  “I’m not ready,” she simply said, moving his hand back down to her waist.

  “I’m not asking to sleep with you; I want to feel you a little,” he whined a lot these days, not an attractive feature, but one of a growing mental list she was compiling about him.

  “I’m not ready.” She stood and put some distance between them, grabbing their drinks and taking them to the kitchen with the intention to refresh them.

  “Why not? We’ve been dating for four months. It’s time I got somewhere.” He slouched back on the couch.

  “You want to get somewhere? I can tell you where you can go.” She meant to say it under her breath, but it came out louder than that.

  “What are you saying?”

  “Nothing, Ethan. I’m tired; maybe it’s time you went home.” She leaned against the counter with her back to him.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t come back,” he threatened putting on his coat.

  “If that’s what you want.” She inhaled deeply.

  “It’s not what I want, Nyla, but I think it’s what you want. I think you want me to end this so you can go be with Jamison?” She jerked her head up and looked at him with hurt in her eyes.

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “So you’re not denying it?” He stood by the door with his hand on the knob.

  “I just don’t want to be pressured into doing something that I’m not ready to do with you.”

  “With me.” He rephrased the words. “Would you do them with someone else? You’d probably already be sleeping with someone else if you were in a relationship with anyone else. I see the way you look at him, and I see the way he looks at you. What’s happened between you two? Something has, and now I’m not the one you want to be with.” He opened the door.

  “Ethan,” she pleaded. “Don’t leave like this.”

  “Make up your mind, Nyla. Do you want me to leave or not? Do you want to be with me or Jamison? Make a decision.” He turned and walked out the door. She stood there her face in her hands, and the tears flowing freely.

  Now they sat in group, their study session over. She was grateful that Maddie was dominating the conversation as usual. Ethan wasn’t talking to her, and Jamison wouldn’t look at her. She stared at her notes and let the conversation pass her by. She didn’t know what was said, but then everyone was packing up, so she did too. She found herself walking home. She refused to use her car for such a short distance even though it was beginning to get bitter cold. They didn’t call it the windy city for nothing.

  Later that week, Jamison sat at a wooden table in the middle of the library. He couldn’t stand to be in his apartment any longer with the sulking Ethan. He heard him talking on the phone about Nyla. They were fighting because she wouldn’t put out. He was proud of his girl. He smiled thinking of the frustration in Ethan’s voice.

  “Is this seat taken?” A pretty blond put her books in front of the chair diagonal from him even though there were three empty tables around him. She wore a wool sweater with a low V-neck. She leaned over as she asked him, and he could see all the way down her sweater. He was sure she did that on purpose. He shook his head no. “You’re Jami right?” She smiled as she sat and opened her books.

  “Yeah,” he said and went back to the notes he was making for his final paper in anthropology.

  “I’m Brianna.” She sat there and annoyingly seemed to have no intention of working or letting him work. He nodded but didn’t look up.

  “There’s this party tonight; it’s supposed to be a real rager. Like totally epic. Do you think you’d want to come with me?” she asked as she leaned toward him, again letting him glance down her sweater if he wanted to.


  “I’m actually busy, sorry.” He didn’t look up.

  “You don’t have a girlfriend do you?” she asked.

  “Actually, I am involved with someone.” He finally looked up at her with a “bug off” expression. She stammered and stuttered something about being sorry to bother him and left. He smiled, relieved to be alone.

  Nyla was at the grocery store when her cell phone went off. It was Ethan, begging to come see her. She wasn’t in the mood for him, especially with his new pity party. She told him she was at the grocery and would call him when she was home. She continued perusing the aisles. She had a list of things she needed, but she was suddenly in no hurry to get through them. She looked at things she wouldn’t normally. Her mind was going in so many different directions, but they all led back to one place, Jamison. She didn’t like how he was now consuming her mind. She had been in the stacks near him in the library when the told the skanky blond that he was “involved with someone.” She wondered who it was.

  “So much for that kiss holding him over,” she mumbled to herself as an older woman looked at her cautiously and hurried past her. This was supposed to be easy. He would leave her alone; she would be with Ethan; and she would be happy, but instead she was miserable. Ethan was miserable, and Jamison? He always landed on his feet. He wasn’t a frog; he was a cat, a leopard, or tiger. She wondered who he’d found already. There were a ton of girls interested in him as always. He’d been sitting by a Darcy chick during the Friday lecture. She wondered if Darcy was the “someone he was “involved” with. She hated Darcy. She looked down at her cart and realized she’d unconsciously put three different kinds of ice cream in her cart. She left them there and made her way to the check out.

  When she arrived home, Ethan was sitting by the back stoop. She pulled into her assigned parking spot, took a deep breath, and looked at him. His cheeks were white, but his nose was red. He rushed to her car and stood by the trunk as she popped it and got out of the warm car. He lifted the trunk and grabbed four of the six bags, leaving her to grab the last two and the milk. He followed her up to her apartment and into the kitchen. She thanked him for helping her.