Jamie Hudson: What’cha doin’?

Me: Finishing lunch.

Jamie Hudson: Ooh, what did you have? I’m a huge foodie. Tell me. Every. Detail.

Me: Fish and Chips, but I TRIED BEER!

Jamie Hudson: Naughty girl. I should call your parents.

Me: You don’t know them. Not a solid threat.

Jamie Hudson: The police?

Me: The chief goes to our church.

Jamie Hudson: I’m fresh out of ideas.

Me: It tasted good.

Jamie Hudson: Of course it did. It’s alcohol.

Me: Very funny.

Jamie Hudson: J I thought so.

Me: What are you doing?

Jamie Hudson: I just got done eating and now I’m getting ready for work.

Me: Oh yeah? What do you do? I mean, other than surf.

Jamie Hudson: You mean what do I do other than talk to a beautiful girl I’ve never met?

I felt my cheeks heat.

Me: Yeah.

Jamie Hudson: I work in the film industry.

Me: Doing what?

He didn’t respond right away. I waited for his message for a few seconds before almost clicking out of messenger.

Jamie Hudson: Sorry, dog was barking, things like that distract me. Um, I’ve done some directing and screen writing.

Me: Like writing scripts?

Jamie Hudson: It’s fun.

Me: Have you written anything I’ve ever seen?

Jamie Hudson: I sure hope so! Sorry, gotta run, work calls! See you later, sweetheart.

“Ready?” Jaymeson said, snapping me out of my smiley gaze. I dropped the phone onto the table.

“Yeah.”

“Who was that?” he asked curiously, dipping his hands into his pockets.

“No one.” I licked my lips.

Jaymeson rolled his eyes. “Right, and I’m not famous.”

“Ha ha.”

“No seriously.” He scooted our chairs in and placed his hand on the small of my back as he led me out of the restaurant. “We’re friends now, friends share with friends. I mean, I don’t want to you to paint my fingernails or put makeup on me or anything, but you can discuss guys with me. I do happen to be one.”

“No way!” I snapped my fingers. “I had no idea.”

“Don’t make me take my pants off.”

“Feeling threatened?” My eyebrows arched as I crossed my arms and waited for his answer.

He took a step toward me, towering over my body. “Never.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Easy.” He stepped away and winked. “I’ve seen myself naked. Oh, and I’m awesome.”

“Cocky.”

“Only when I need to be.” He grinned.

“I feel like there’s a hidden perverted meaning there and I’m going to choose to ignore it so your face doesn’t end up on the opposite end of my palm.”

“Wow.” He looked both ways then raced with me across the street. “I didn’t get slapped, but I could have sworn I just felt it.”

“I’m magic.”

Jaymeson stopped. His hair fell over his eye making me itch to push it back, you know to help him, um… see better.

“That, I believe.” He opened the door to the church and let me go in first. For being such a whore, he really did have amazing manners. He’d done the same thing at the restaurant and even pulled out my chair like we were at some fancy restaurant in Portland.

“So, boxes.” We both faced the tower of boxes we had left to do. “Tell you what…” He turned to me. “Every box I finish, you have to tell me details about lover boy.”

“Lover boy? Are you ten?”

“Deal or no deal?”

“Deal.” I rolled my eyes. “At least it will keep things interesting, and since you are a guy, you can give me really good advice on how to not be boring.”

Jaymeson froze then dropped the box onto the floor and turned around to face me. “Don’t ever call yourself that. Rule number one, if a guy says you’re boring he’s a jackass. If every fiber of his being isn’t focused on you — especially when you first start dating — you run. You don’t make excuses for his inability to pay attention. You don’t put yourself down. You run, and you don’t look back. Okay?”

“Whoa, that it, Dad?”

Jaymeson scowled. “And say no to drugs.”

“Wow. You’re the definition of wisdom.”

“I try.” He turned back around. “Now I’m going to work my ass off so I get more details. I want to know what type of guy just turned that pretty little head of yours.”

I didn’t respond.

But he’d called me pretty.

The funny thing? I actually sort of believed him.

Chapter Fifteen

Jaymeson

“Box ten is done and all I know about this boy — don’t scowl, he’s a boy until I say he’s a man — is that he works for the film industry. Lame.”

“Lame?” Pris got down on all fours and pushed the heavy box toward the wall. Her back arched. My mouth went dry. She grunted.

I looked away and almost had a freaking seizure. No joke. I swear I almost had an episode.

“Don’t you work in the film industry?”

“I’m the talent.” I shrugged. “Totally different scenario.”

“How so?” She got off the floor — thank God — and started packing up another box.

“Because.” Oh wow, great answer Jaymeson, hitting it out of the park with that one. “I have to pretend. He just writes shit.”