There are definitely holdouts, like Kim.
“And who thinks he needs to move on with his life?”
Literally only Jared, Kim, and the drumline raise their hands.
Jimbo grins. “Now, you know why I didn’t ask the drummers for advice.”
Well, that backfired.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It’s late, but the front door is unlocked. A candle flickers in the living room, casting a warm glow and an inviting scent around the space. All the other lights are off. Everyone else must be asleep.
Everyone, except Jim, who’s waiting for me on the couch.
“How is she?”
I don’t ask how he knew I’d come to him. I don’t ask why he didn’t expect me to go back to my hotel room. I simply cross the space between us and curl into his side when he opens his arm for me.
“She cried herself to sleep. I would have stayed with her all night, but her roommate was annoyed enough with the drama. I didn’t want to make things worse. She might want some alone time when she wakes up anyway.”
He presses a lingering kiss to the top of my head. “She psyched herself out. That’s why she lost. She’ll get back on the horse and win her spot back next week. She just needs to find the middle ground between working hard for what she wants and not letting the anxiety of failing control her.”
I raise my gaze to his, resting my head on his shoulder. “Are you talking about Emily or about me?”
“Maybe a little of both.”
“So, you think I should work harder to give us a shot and not let the anxiety of you throwing me away again control me?”
“Well, the masses have cast their votes …” He chuckles then traces his finger along my jaw and dusts my nose with another kiss that lasts a breath too long to be innocent. It’s like he’s testing the waters to see how much I’ll allow. “I think … you should finally let me apologize adequately and at least try to make it up to you. And if I can win your forgiveness, then we’ll see where it goes from there.”
“Is my forgiveness another competition?”
“No. Are you going to withhold it from me out of spite?”
No. He already has it.
“You’re right though. We’re running out of time.” I pull my gaze from his and fit my head into the crook between his chest and shoulder. It’s the perfect pillow. “What happens tomorrow when the drum major voting takes place? What happens when they announce you as head drum major on game day, and I can’t handle that?”
“What happens when they announce you as head drum major, and I can?”
“Can you?” I murmur. “Can you really? Or is that just your way of telling me this has never been a fair fight? Did you already throw the competition in some misguided way of winning me over?”
“Shit.” His chest rumbles beneath me with another low chuckle. “Would that have worked?”
No. “Maybe.”
“I’d like to say that I’ll keep that in mind for next time, but …” He lifts my face to his with a single finger beneath my chin. The gap between us lessens as my heart rate slows to a peaceful rhythm. His lips touch mine with tenderness that wasn’t there when we were younger versions of ourselves, all gnashing teeth and hurry to become adults.
I open my mouth to him with longing I could never have understood the first time.
This kiss is slow, meaningful, and intentional. It’s a taste of everything we could be together if we just abandoned the war and the hurt.
He rests his forehead against mine when we break for air. “Now, you understand why I was so desperate. We’re running out of time.”
“We’re graduating at the end of the year, no matter what,” I remind him. “We still might part ways.”
He shakes his head against me.
I smile because the movement tickles. And because he’s still arguing.
“Not necessarily,” he whispers. “Maybe we fight for something different this time. Maybe we fight on the same side. Maybe we fight to stay together.”
“Jimmy …”
He presses my hand to his cheek. “James. I’ll always be the James to your Sophie.”
Because that’s what we called each other that night so long ago. It felt so grown up then. It feels so childish now.
The names don’t matter nearly as much as the people who wear them.
It’s been three years of cloaking love with hatred. I’m just not sure how to reverse that cape in only a day’s time.
“Come on.” He pulls me up as he stands. “It’s late, and we have classes tomorrow. Let’s go to bed.”
I hesitate. We might be running out of time, but jumping in with both feet without knowing the true depth could be worse than the initial dive.
He rounds on me when I pull free from his grasp. “You want me, and I’m right here. What’s stopping you now?”
“I just don’t think …”
“So, don’t think. Feel. You don’t have to completely change who you were in high school. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying life and attending parties and taking risks. You can have the best of both worlds. I know you. You’ll never ignore the trees for the forest again.”
I smirk. He’s become attached to that Dr. Kimball phrase.
“Give us a test drive, Soph,” he pleads. “Just come sleep with me. We’ve never tried that before.”
“You meant what you said to my parents?” I give him a playful shove with my whispered shout. “You wanted me to stay here all week and actually see what living with you was like? Without sex?”
He pretends to wince. “Yeah.”
I head toward the staircase. “You’d better not have meant the four kids part where I stay at home, and you further your education.”
“No, but I have been seriously considering your suggestion to go into music education. I really hate political science,” he whispers as we ascend past all the people sleeping in their rooms.
“Please tell me you didn’t choose a major just to stay in competition with me.”
“No. I chose that major when I heard you talking about going to law school. I figured I’m never going to be a millionaire like Alex, but being an attorney is pretty good money.”
I shake my head as we enter his bedroom. “I was not joking about you needing to let go of that football-shaped chip on your shoulder and all the toxic masculinity that comes with it. Do you even like music? Or did you just become a band geek because it’s the total opposite of being a football player?”
“Yes and no. That is absolutely what I did at first, but I fell in love with it over time.” He smirks and throws me a T-shirt from his dresser. “Sort of like you.”
We change in silence in the dark. He wasn’t kidding about trying out just sleeping together and nothing more. There’s no staring at each other’s naked bodies, no sleeping in nothing but underwear, not even copping a feel as we climb into bed.
It’s kind of disappointing.
“I’m glad you have a bigger bed than Shannon’s.”
“Me, too. But I should warn you, I’m used to sleeping alone, and I have a queen-size bed because I like to starfish in the middle of it.”