Fall (Seaside #4)(26)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“You can stay here.”

“Really?” A smile returned to his face.

“Guest room, and I’m locking my door so don’t get any ideas.”

“We’re friends,” he said simply. “I can control myself around friends.”

Well, at least one of us could. I hated that his comment made me sting. Even though I was the idiot that put us in that zone in the first place, I still wanted him to want me… as ridiculous as that sounded.

“Cool.” I pointed back to my room. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Alright.” He started walking in the opposite direction whispering, “Goodnight, love.”

“Night.”

Chapter Nineteen

Jaymeson

I stared up at the ceiling and swore. No way did that girl see me as a man right now, especially considering I’d been too scared to go back to my own lonely house.

The movie hadn’t freaked me out as much as the storm.

I freaking hated storms.

They reminded me of my childhood, of being alone while my dad was filming. They’d left me with a housekeeper, but she was so old and cranky that she offered no help whatsoever.

I’d missed Nanna so much that night — it felt like someone had stabbed me over and over again.

One night during a storm, a tree branch crashed into my bedroom window.

The housekeeper didn’t even come.

Neither did my dad. I even called him. He told me to tell the housekeeper and go back to sleep.

But her bedroom door had been locked, so I‘d lain under my bed, with rain pouring through the window, hugging the toy truck my dad had given me when I was really little, and praying that the storm would end.

That was the day I had realized nobody would come for me — that in the end it was me against the world and that was it. Girls always joke about wanting to be rescued, needing saving, but what about guys? What about little boys who grow up parentless? Sure I had money, but money’s a cold bitch at night when you’re scared of your own shadow.

I hated what that money did to my parents, to their relationship. It made me sick inside whenever I thought about it. Maybe that was why I pushed people away — eventually they would leave me just like my dad did, just like my housekeeper. I mean, she was freaking paid to love me and she still didn’t care.

I punched the pillow with my hand and grabbed my cell. Pris hadn’t messaged Jamie Hudson that night, I wondered if I should be worried. I mean, technically she was with him because I was him, but still.

Wow, tangled web.

Me: Hope you are having a goodnight.

She responded right away.

Priscilla S: Kinda freaked after watching a scary movie, but yeah, I’m good.

Me: Please tell me that tool who took you on a date wasn’t watching the movie with you.

Priscilla S: Um, no… not him.

I smirked, wondering if she would ‘fess up.

Me: So you were alone?

Priscilla S: Not really.

Me: ?

Priscilla S: Jaymeson was here.

That was it. No explanation, nothing, just Jaymeson was here. Like I didn’t freaking matter.

Me: Jamie Jaymeson? Him? The one you refuse to discuss with me? How is the movie star?

Priscilla S: He’s good… we had fun. Well, until the scary movie got too scary for both of us.

Me: Why’s he in Seaside?

Priscilla S: Vacation.

Me: Are you okay hanging out with him? I mean, I don’t know what went down, but last time we talked about him you, seemed pretty upset…

Priscilla S: He apologized. That’s enough for me.

Me: Really? Seriously? He apologized and boom, he’s forgiven?

Priscilla S: Nobody’s perfect, and I always trust the first apology, it’s the second that I’m leery of.

Me: The second?

Priscilla S: First apologies make sense. Someone says their sorry and they promise not to repeat the behavior. If they do the same thing over again, then I know the first apology didn’t mean anything. The second apology is worse, because it tells me that they’re really great with words, but suck at action. So yeah, I’m good with his apology as long as he keeps his promise not to screw around with me.

Shit. I suddenly felt like I was going to have a panic attack. Because that was exactly what I was doing. I was screwing around with her. I mean, I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I was just so desperate to make sure she was okay. The lights flickered as if the man upstairs was warning me not to mess with the innocent girl. And then thunder crashed nearly sending me sailing to the floor in terror.

Me: I think that’s a good philosophy. I’m glad you forgave him.

Priscilla S: Well, he’s hard to stay mad at — it’s the accent.

Me: Ahhh and the world makes sense. You’re a sucker for accents.

Priscilla S: Maybe… J but we’re just friends.

Me: I have an accent. I’m awesome. Can we be friends too?

Priscilla S: LOL I thought we already were.

Me: True, so the only logical step is to move past that…

Priscilla S: Umm…

Me: Stop freaking out… just know if I was there, in your house, I wouldn’t be watching a damn movie, and if I was watching a movie, it would only be because I had to take my eyes off of you so you wouldn’t freak out from my staring.

Priscilla S: I’m rolling my eyes.

Me: I’m dead serious.

Priscilla S: J

Me: Go to bed, sweetheart.

Priscilla S: Night J

I tucked my phone under pillow like I did every night and fell asleep with a smile on my face. I liked her.

There I admitted it.

Maybe not out loud, but it was there. I liked her. I wanted to spend time with her, and for once in my life, it wasn’t about sex first.

It was about her.

Chapter Twenty

Priscilla

I woke up to screaming.

And not the type of screaming that makes you think someone fell off the bed — no, it was utter terror.

The covers tangled around my feet as I struggled to get out of bed. I kicked at them and nearly crashed to the floor. Finally free, I ran across the room to the door.

The screams got louder.

Jaymeson.

It didn’t make sense. He probably lived alone when he was in LA. Was he that freaked out by the movie?

I stood in front his door listening to him scream, each scream got louder and louder, making my heart clench in my chest. He was having a nightmare, and I was just standing there!

Without a second thought, I quickly opened the door and walked over to his bed.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I didn’t even want to know if he was naked under the covers. The moonlight cast a glow over his perfect body. He tossed to one side, yelled, then tossed to the other side of the bed, thrashing his body like he was trying to escape something.