For the next week or so, we lay low. My mom had a few days off work and Derek came home, so the four of us spent quite a bit of time together, and it really wasn't all that awkward. It was almost like there were two Jaymes: the Jayme who treated me like a twelve-year-old and the Jayme who made me feel like a woman. But still, there were times when he'd get too close and I'd breathe in the smell of him and melt inside, or I'd brush up against him and he'd get this agonized look on his face, the heat in his eyes telling me that he'd like nothing more than to rip my clothes off and have his way with me. A couple of times we ran into each other in the hallway, and he'd grab me and kiss me and then release me, dazed and damp. But we kept up appearances for the family's sake, and we took no chances. Until the night that we were invited to the Hickman's house again, this time for a pool party.
I was in my room changing into my favorite black bikini when he tapped on my door. I called him in and he stepped inside and stopped in his tracks.
"Wow," he said in a strangled voice.
I stepped closer to him. "You like?" I asked coyly.
He nodded. "I like. And I bet Josh will like, too, that little fucker."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
He sighed. "Look..." he started, "there's something I need to tell you."
"What?" I looked at him expectantly, confused.
"About Josh."
"So tell me."
"Josh likes you. He wants to date you. He asks about you all the time."
"Really?" I wasn't sure what to do with this information, but I did know that had he told me this just a few weeks ago, I would've jumped at the chance to be with Josh. Only now, I couldn't because I was...my uncle and I were...what exactly were we doing? "And?"
"And... I guess I don't know how I feel about that. Or rather I do know how I feel about that. Because we agreed this can't go anywhere. We agreed we would just get it out of our systems. So I guess if you like Josh, maybe you should date him. And I'm telling you this because he's probably going to ask you tonight, and I just wanted you to be prepared, since I didn't mention it before."
I felt like he'd kicked me in the stomach. "I can't believe you," I said.
"What?"
"Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"No!" he insisted. "No, not at all. But you're young, you know? You shouldn't miss out on something just because of...just because we..." He stopped, then reminded me, "You were all over him at the party. And clearly he wasn't forcing you. There's something there, is all I'm saying. You like him, and he likes you. And maybe this...whatever it is...is just horniness on your part. And once you're with Josh, you won't worry about me because you'll be too busy with him."
I looked at him incredulously. "Do you believe that? You really think I'm just a horny little girl, you son of a bitch, and that if I just spread my legs for anyone I'll be satisfied? You think this is about sex?" I pushed him away, and he grabbed for me, but I slapped his hand.
"Don't touch me!" I cried. "I know what you're doing! You're trying to let me down easy! Well, it's bullshit."
I threw myself on the bed, sobbing angrily. He was beside me in an instant, stroking my hair, crooning softly in my ear. "No, Dana, no, babe, I promise, that's not it. I swear, baby, that's not it at all."
Just then, Derek knocked and called my name, and Jayme moved away from me as Derek cracked the door. I heard him and turned to him, my eyes red, my makeup smeared. Derek looked from me to Jayme and back to me, clearly confused.
"Boy troubles, man," Jayme said.
"Good luck with that," Derek muttered, and ducked back out.
I buried my face in the pillow again and shook with sobs. "I'm not a little girl," I cried into the pillow. "That's all you think I am."
"No, that's not it. Look at me," he begged.
I buried my face further into the pillow.
"Please."
Reluctantly I turned over and faced him. He looked at me like he was going to be sick. "Please don't cry," he said. "I'm sorry. Just don't cry." He rubbed my arms and planted light kisses on my forehead, my eyelids, the tip of my nose. I felt the anger fade as he kissed me so softly on the lips, and I reached for him, pulling him against me by the hips.
"If you only knew how long I've been watching you, waiting for you to grow up, you'd never say things like that to me," he whispered huskily. "I've been here summer after summer, watching you turn from a little girl into a beautiful woman, and hating myself for noticing you."
I searched his face, but all I saw there was honesty.
"Last summer," he continued, "you were still dating Ryan, remember?"
I nodded, and slid my fingers into his blond, shaggy curls.
"Do you remember Fourth of July? That red sundress you had on? With the tie straps?"
I couldn't believe he remembered an outfit from almost a year ago. I barely remembered it myself.
"We were at the fireworks, and he was standing behind you, rubbing your shoulders because it was a little breezy that night. And I was standing behind both of you, watching it happen, his hands on your bare shoulders, his fingers near those little red tie straps, and my stomach just tied in knots, I was suddenly so jealous. I swear, I thought my head would explode. It was like I wanted to kill him for touching you. No," he corrected himself, "for being able to touch you. For having the right to touch you, which I couldn't ever have. And all I could think about when you two left was him untying those little straps, and touching you, and kissing you. And I left that night and just drank myself silly. Do you remember how hungover I was the next day?"
I nodded.
