Light. That was the only way to describe how Jamie felt as he headed back to the ale house. Like a weight had been lifted, like everything was going to be better from here on out. Not that things were bad. He hadn’t been suffering or miserable or anything that made life less than okay. But that’s just it. Things had only ever been okay. And he wanted better. No. He wanted amazing.
He still couldn’t get over how easy things had been with Liz.
“It’s okay, James,” she’d said when he showed up in the ER waiting room an hour ago, asking to see her. As soon as Annie had forced him to admit what he felt out loud, he had no choice but to end things with Liz and tell Brynn the truth. “I like you a lot, but I knew you weren’t in it for the long haul.”
She knew?
“I’m not ready to settle down, and you’ve got that vibe, you know?”
Vibe? He asked the question only to himself, but Liz had answered.
“You’re waiting for something. Not sure what, but I don’t think we were it. No big deal, okay? It was fun.”
Fun.
After their conversation, Jamie wasn’t sure who broke up with whom. All he knew was there were no consequences. He was single, free, and not nearly as drunk as he planned on being when he set things in motion tonight. Either way, he knew this was the start of something, and as he hopped in a cab and headed back to the brewery, his thoughts went to one person—Brynn.
He went straight for the party deck, infiltrating every cluster of fellow grads as he looked for her. At one point, Stacy Fletcher grabbed his hand and tried to lead him to the bar for a drink.
“Teach me about your brews,” she’d said, and despite how much he admired the skin pouring over the top of Stacy’s dress, she wasn’t the girl he was looking for.
“Sorry, Stacy. I have to—do something.” It was a shitty exit but an exit nonetheless.
Brynn had made him watch When Harry Met Sally enough times to know that he was Harry at the end of the movie, in his big, New Year’s Eve grand gesture scene.
When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.
Spencer Matthews wasn’t the romantic lead. Jamie Kingston was, and Brynn needed to know that for him it had always been her.
Finally he found Annie talking to the asshole Ryan again.
“Where’s the fire, Jamie?” Annie teased, but her expression shifted when he didn’t return her smile.
He was buzzing with adrenaline and a sureness he hadn’t felt since the night he’d kissed Brynn.
“Where is she, Annie?”
And just like that, he saw Annie go through three visible emotions in seconds. First the teasing, then concern, and now? He could swear her wide eyes and fallen smile spelled pity.
“Shit, Jamie.” She gave him a once-over, noting his coat. “Where have you been? She just took off with Spencer.”
Took off? Brynn wouldn’t leave without telling him. They came here together, which meant the unwritten rule—they’d leave together.
“You didn’t stop her?” His deep voice grew hoarse as panic set in, any hesitation he had about telling Brynn how he felt erased by the need to find her before he blew his chance.
Annie excused herself from Ryan and moved off to the side.
“Jesus, Jamie. What was I supposed to do? Tell her to wait because maybe you were finally going to make things right between you guys? I haven’t even seen you since we left the front bar.”
Her voice cracked, anger morphing to worry.
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “You’re right. I’m just…”
He stuck his hand in his coat pocket, then patted the one in his jeans.
“I left my phone in my office. I’ll call her. Or text. Or something. She can’t be far, right?”
Annie shook her head, but he didn’t wait for more confirmation. He raced to his office—to his phone—so he could catch Brynn before she did anything he wouldn’t be able to get over.
He didn’t remember locking the door, but he thought nothing of it as he fished for the keys in his pocket, remedied the situation, and burst into his office.
His heart sank, right to his toes and possibly through the floor. He swallowed back the burn in his throat that had nothing to do with Jack Daniels this time and braced himself against the doorframe. All those years of self-preservation, and Brynn was still able to demolish him in mere seconds. Because there she was, perched on Spencer Matthews’s lap, one arm round his neck, the other poised to deposit an empty shot glass on his desk. Her seductive smile faded quickly.
Shit. She’d definitely never smiled like that for him.
He stood there, rooted in silence, waiting for some cosmic force to end this moment so he could get the hell out of it. An asteroid pulverizing Earth sounded pretty fantastic right about now. A Lake Michigan tidal wave? Bring it. The fuck. On.
Anything but this.
Brynn slid off Spencer’s lap, and he stood, looking no worse for the wear.
“I’m going to head back to the party,” Spencer said. “Great place you got here, Jamie,” and he offered a hand to shake. Jamie had to do everything in his power not to say, It’s James, asshole.