Avoiding Amy Jackson (21 page)

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” James rebuts immediately. He slides his arm around my shoulder and tucks me into his side. “Kendall, this is Amy. Amy, this is Kendall…an old friend.” I immediately hate her. An old friend? Yeah, apparently he’s using this term very loosely these days. An old slutty fuck buddy would have probably been a better description.

Kendall finally acknowledges me and her eyes give me a quick once-over. She doesn’t offer a hello, and neither do I. This bitch can suck it. For once in my life, I’m uncomfortable with this scenario. There’s obviously history here.

History I want to know… Wait. No I don’t.

“James, I think whatever you have on the stove is starting to burn.” That’s a lie. I’m determined to get him as far away from
Kendall
as physically possible. I feel possessive and this is unnerving. I choose to turn on my heels and head back into the kitchen. My brain can’t handle any more conversation between them. This woman is bound and determined to ‘catch up’ with James, and I don’t think I can tolerate hearing any more of her flirtatious responses.

It hurts to think about James with other women.

That doesn’t sound friendly.

Oh fuck you, subconscious!

I act like I’m busy putting stuff inside of his fridge when he walks back into the kitchen. All I’m doing is rearranging the beer in mindless movements. I’m such an idiot. What is wrong with me? Why do I care so much? I don’t care. No, I don’t care that James and that woman have a past. Maybe they’re still fucking each other’s brains out… God, I can’t even think about that without feeling like puking.
Stop fucking thinking about it then! His sex life is none of your business.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes after I close the fridge. His eyes meet mine in a hesitant gaze.

“No worries.” I try to convey that I’m unaffected.

“Are you sure? I obviously didn’t invite her over here. I haven’t seen Kendall in a long time.” He runs his hands through his hair in unsure movements.

I cringe at the sound of her name on his lips. “Seriously, you don’t have to explain anything to me. We’re friends, right?” I feel like I’ve just gutted myself with my own words.

“Of course,” he agrees. His eyes analyze my face, taking in my current state. He doesn’t seem happy with whatever he found. James doesn’t push this topic of conversation any further or continue to offer any more reassurance. Instead, he turns for the stove and resumes making dinner.

Why would I expect him to reassure me about anything?

It’s not like we’re in a relationship.

We’re friends. He can fuck, screw, date anyone he wants…

I choose to push the uncertain emotions out of my head. “Is there anything I can do to help?” I rest my hip on the counter as I watch James move about his kitchen with finesse.

“Nope,” he declares, loudly popping the p, his little endearing quirk I’ve come to love.

“Come on, there’s got to be something I can do to help make dinner. Don’t make me look like the asshat who just sat around and watched you do all the work,” I demand with a determined gaze.

He chortles as he adds some spices to the chicken in the skillet. Whatever uncomfortable moment that just past between us, he’s managed to brush off. “Okay. Just follow my instructions very closely. I don’t want you to mess this up.”

I roll my eyes and place a hand on my hip, letting him see my annoyance.

“Open that bottle of Merlot.”

I give him a perplexed look but just go with what he’s telling me. Maybe he needs the wine for cooking. People use wine to cook, right? I uncork the bottle and wait for his next instructions.

“Now pour the wine into a glass, but make sure it’s only about a third full. I need the measurements to be exact,” he instructs as he flips the chicken over in the pan and slides a casserole dish into the oven.

I do as he asks and place the glass on the counter beside the stove. He shakes his head no, refusing to take it. “I need you to taste it first.”

My nose scrunches up in confusion. I take a sip and then attempt to give him the glass. “Tastes fantastic. Here.”

He shakes his head again and keeps his eyes intently on the stove, throwing more spices into the skillet. “Try it again. I need to make sure it’s perfect.”

I take a hearty swallow and push the wine glass into his chest
.
“Here. Take the fucking glass before I throw it at you.”

James laughs and shakes his head
again
. He completely ignores the wine glass that is pressed to his chest and steps around me to grab a few onions from the fridge. “I think you should taste it again.” He peers at me out of the corner of his eye and a sexy smirk crests his mouth.

I peek down at the glass and then back at him, finally catching up to his ulterior motives. “You’re such an asshole, you know that? I must be off my game tonight, because it took me far too long to realize you were just trying to keep me occupied.” I raise my eyebrow at him. “It’s either that or you’re trying to get me drunk.”

“Probably a little of both.” He shrugs and cocks his head to the side. His face beams into a giant smile, revealing all of his perfect pearly whites and one tiny dimple. That tiny dimple in the corner of his cheek is a secret dimple. It rarely comes out, but when it does, it’s one of my favorite things about him.

I roll my eyes heavenward and walk away, heading towards his stereo. “What are you in the mood for?” I start scrolling through his iPod that’s docked above the speakers.

“Whatever you want, bossy,” he responds while chopping an onion.

“You have an awful lot of Frank Sinatra on here.”

“Nothing beats Old Blue Eyes.”

I accidentally press on
The Way You Look Tonight
as I’m browsing through all of James’s Frank Sinatra collection. The voice of one of the all-time greats starts to croon loudly from the speakers and I can’t help but grin. There is nothing like hearing the soulful, raspy, husky, most-perfect voice of Frank Sinatra.

I feel James’s hand at the small of my back and his warm breath is on my neck as he whispers into my ear. “Come on, doll. Now you have to give me at least one dance.”

I turn around to face him, and he grabs my hand, spinning me away from his body and then pulling me close as he starts to sway back and forth. A girlish giggle escapes my throat as I try to give him an exasperated look. He unleashes those emerald green eyes on me, and any sarcastic comment I was about to say gets caught in my throat. James tugs me closer; my head falls gently to rest on his chest as he starts to sing the words into my ear.

I’m enjoying the feel of his warmth and embrace far too much for friendship standards, and I wish I could pull away from him, but for some reason…
I can’t
. I can’t and I don’t. I’m trapped in this entrancing moment and I continue to let him sway me back and forth to the music while serenading me.

God, he feels good.

His body is warm and his large hands make me feel like I have the tiniest waist in the world.

I shouldn’t be thinking this or feeling this or wanting this.

These are not friendly thoughts.

James looks down at me as he places his hand under my chin, bringing my gaze to his. His eyes lock with mine. Those green orbs nearly knock me on my ass and have reduced me to a woman who is swooning over a dance. All I can think about is that he’s beautiful
and his arms are the most comfortable place in the world. James is without a doubt the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Somehow, he’s managed to burrow himself into every facet of my life, and now he’s looking at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

Is he going to kiss me?

Do I want him to kiss me?

Yes. Fucking kiss me, dickhead.

I bite down on my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The force of his eyes does things to me that I’m not willing to admit to anyone, even myself. His eyes move down to my lips, locking their gaze to them and staring at them with an urgent hunger
.

A familiar buzzing sound pulls my attention away from him.

“Open up, assholes! Don’t make a starving pregnant woman stand out here and wait!” I hear Ellen’s voice yell through the door.

James kisses the top of my forehead, his lips lingering longer than most would consider friendly. “Thanks for the dance, sweetheart,” he throatily whispers to me before heading for the door.

I’m left standing in his living room, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

I turn away and look out the large window that encompasses the entire living room. My eyes glance lazily around the view of downtown Charlotte, my mind in an unfamiliar fog. I shut my eyes and let out the deep breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. I’m not sure what just occurred between James and me. I can’t really wrap my brain around the feelings, the emotions that passed between us.

Was he feeling the same way I was?

He was looking at me with an undeniable intensity, an almost palpable passion. And when his eyes focused on my lips, it felt as if he could hardly hold himself back from eating me whole. His hands gripped my hips tightly, causing a silent shudder to rack through my entire body. My fingers trace my bottom lip gently, feeling the sore spot I bit.

“You okay?” Ellen questions quietly as she comes to stand beside me.

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” I give her a bewildered look as I pull my focus away from the window. She looks adorable. Her baby bump is proudly pronounced in an adorable pink maternity shirt she paired with black leggings and ballet flats. Her boobs are ridiculously huge at this point in her pregnancy. Ellen has always had generous curves—
not nearly as generous as mine
—but right now, she’s has to be sporting double D’s. Pregnancy does some crazy, ridiculous things to your body.

“First of all, stop looking at my enormous tits. I know they’re huge. And seriously, my nipples have to be the size of saucers right now. Secondly, you were just standing here in a daze, like you were trying to solve the hardest mathematical equation known to man. What were you just thinking about?” She places her hands on either side of my shoulders, bringing us to stare down. I know why she’s doing this; she’s going to try to use those notorious cross-examination skills of hers to figure out what has me so baffled.

I jerk away from her. “Nothing had me in a daze. I think I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night. And stop looking at me like that! You can go ahead and put your interrogation skills away, Detective Cum Twat.”

She stifles a laugh and tugs me in for a tight hug, her pregnant belly pressing up against me. I feel a small movement against my stomach and look down at her bump. “Did I just feel the baby move?” My eyebrows rise in surprise as I place both of my hands on her stomach.

“Yep. You sure did. Meet crazy Baby Hamilton. She’s in constant motion these days, twenty-four-seven.” Ellen’s eyes glance down to where my hands are resting and a warm, beautiful smile spreads across her lips.

Did she just say she?

“Hold up. Did you just say ‘she’?” My mouth is agape as I watch her face closely for any clues on whether or not she and Trent actually found out the sex of their baby at their last ultrasound.

“Umm…” Ellen nervously bites down on her lip. “James! Trent! Do you need any help in there?” she hurriedly asks as she tries to walk away from me.

“Not so fast, preggo.” I stand in front of her with a resolute look on my face. “Did you two find out what you’re having?”

Ellen’s eyes go wide as she looks over at Trent for what I’m assuming is help to get out of this situation without having to answer my question.

The two of them have gone back and forth on whether or not they were going to find out the sex of the baby. I had a feeling Ellen wouldn’t be able to resist waiting until the baby was born. If she found out, my pregnant friend better tell me, because I’m dying to know if I’m going to have a niece or nephew.

“Ellen! You better give me some answers. I’m not afraid to cunt punch a pregnant lady.” My hand is on my hip as I impatiently tap my foot on the hardwood floor.

Trent chuckles huskily behind me. He moves towards Ellen, pulling her into his lap as he sits down on the black leather sofa. “There will be no cunt punching the mother of my child.” He looks at Ellen with a ridiculous grin on his face before whispering into her ear. She smiles and places her hand on his cheek, nodding her head lightly. James is now beside me, watching Ellen and Trent, waiting for them to give us the big news.

“Okay. I was planning on telling you tonight over dinner, but I guess since you’re so fucking impatient, I’ll just tell you now.” Ellen stops talking and just smiles mischievously at me.

“Seriously? Enough making me wait! Spit it out! Is it a girl? Are we having a girl?” I urge noisily with a combination of excitement and irritation in my voice.

Ellen nods her head in two fluid movements and finally puts me out of my misery. “Yes. We’re having a girl.
Baby Lucy
.” My eyes immediately fill with tears as I take in the fantastic news, especially the name.

“Lucy? Baby Lucy!” I squeal with enthusiasm. “I can’t believe we’re having a girl! I’m going to have a little niece!” I’m nearly jumping up and down in thrilled hysterics. I pull Ellen from Trent’s lap and wrap her in a giant hug. “I can’t believe you chose Lucy as her name,” I whisper in her ear.

Tears are streaming down her cheeks. “Of course I’d name her Lucy. Only the two most awesome chicks I know have Lucille as their middle name.” Her statement and overwhelming joy has a domino effect as my tears start to spill out, flowing down my face.

“Wait, what am I missing with the name Lucille?”

“Both Ellen and Amy have the same middle name—
Lucille,
” Trent responds to James with pride shining from his face.

“How did I not know your middle name was Lucille?” James gives a fake pout. “I thought we were best friends, Amy. This hurts.”

“Oh shut up, dickhead,” I cajole and smack him loudly on the chest. James snickers and proceeds to give the happy couple a hug, telling them both congratulations.