The Enemy of Time, page 21
Jamie moved about five feet in, his eyes roaming the walls as if they would tell the story of my life these past years. “So, how have you been?” This was awkward as hell, but at least it was better than asking about the weather.
“I’ve been …” I tried to think of something borderline braggy to say, something that would show Jamie how well I was doing on my own, but that would mean I needed something actually to brag about, and with just one look at my apartment, anyone would know I didn’t have anything to be boastful of. “Great. I’ve been great. Got a job at this cool law office.” I thought that adding the word “cool” would make “law office” sound less depressing.
Jamie looked puzzled. “Do you want to be a lawyer?” This earth-shattering idea was about to knock Jamie off his feet.
“No!” I spoke louder and faster than I intended. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being a lawyer, but four more years of college just isn’t for me.” Nice recovery. “I’m working there until writing starts paying the bills.”
Jamie stood a bit closer to me. “And how long has that been?”
“A few years …” I know where he was going with this.
“And what have you written during that time?” He quizzed me like one of my old English professors.
I shot my hands to my hips. “Hey, you don’t get to show up at my doorstep with your cute smart-ass grin and accusatory tone and assume I'm going to answer your questions,” I jabbed back at him.
He stepped forward. His face was so close to mine that I could feel the steam of his breath on my cheeks. “You still think I’m cute.” His smile was dripping with arrogance, making my blood boil and my skin shiver.
I was practically panting as my eyes lingered on his lips. “Maybe. But I also think you're a smart-ass.”
He swiftly placed his hands on my hips and pulled me into him, our bodies connecting like two magnets. “So, nothing changed.”
Those three words made the last shred of my restraint shatter like glass. Without a word or a witty comeback, I crashed my lips into his. It was anything but gentle: it was raw, angry, passionate, and filled with an urgency that bordered on desperation. Our lips moved hungrily against each other as if trying to consume every ounce of longing and regret that had lingered between us since we parted.
My fingers tangled in the back of Jamie's hair as I pulled him closer, desperately trying to get my body to melt deeper into his. My movements were erratic, burning with a fever, veering into madness. We gripped each other so tightly, our hands moving desperately over every inch of skin, that I feared we would leave a trail of bruises in our wake. We were two halves of the same broken soul, finally reunited after years of wandering in the darkness.
Suddenly, Jamie stopped. His breath hovered above my lips. “Alex,” his voice was breathy and low as if he feared the thoughts about to slip out of his mouth.
I didn’t want to talk anymore. I didn’t want to think anymore. I wanted to forget and feel his body on top of mine. I didn’t wish for the past or the future. I wanted now.
I grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down to my level. “Just fuck me already.”
Jamie's teeth grazed his lower lip as the corners of his mouth curled in a grin that sent quivers down my already wet thighs. “Yes, ma’am,” he smirked.
Our lips crashed together hard in a desperate kiss that tasted like anger, passion, and
need. Fuck, I need him. I needed every inch of him.
He slid his hand from my arms to my waist, pulling me closer. I felt the cool edge of the counter push against my back, but I didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of Jamie's body pressed into mine, the way his hands moved over my figure as if he couldn't get enough; they roamed up and down my thighs, gripping my ass, his nails almost tearing the fabric of my dress.
There was a deep groan from Jamie's chest, then his hands moved to my hips and thrust me effortlessly onto the counter. The cold surface sent a shiver down my torso to my cheeks, but the heat of his touch quickly extinguished it as he gripped the hem of my dress and yanked it upwards until my bare thighs were exposed. His thumbs suddenly trailed down my inner legs; just the damn anticipation of his fingers dancing toward my clit made my body quiver with a begging pulse.
“I’d tell you to beg, but it looks like your body already is.” He snickered against my lips, his breath hot and heavy.
“Screw you.” I tugged on the base of his hair and bit his bottom lip.
“You’re about to,” he whispered into my neck. I could feel his smile on my skin.
His fingers slid beneath the smooth satin of my underwear, two of them easing inside, stretching me gently as they pressed against my sides, while his lips traced a path down from my throat to my chest. His hand ran through my hair and clawed down my skin as if we were two starved animals finally devouring our first full meal in weeks. I gasped as he explored deeper and deeper, his thumb rubbing in circles, keeping perfect harmony with his two fingers as they found their ideal spot inside me, a move he had mastered since we were teenagers fooling around. I moaned, leaning into him, my hands springing back and slapping against the counter for stability. His hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back slightly to give him better access to my neck. His lips attacked my skin as if he might bite, nipping at me as his fingers moved in and out with a relentless rhythm. Each forceful touch, each deliberate stroke, sent jolts of hot pleasure through me, igniting a fire in every atom, threatening to consume my every movement.
“God, I've missed this,” I said in a moaning yelp.
“I've missed you,” he whispered back.
I released my grip on the counter and thrust my palms onto his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as the pressure inside me coiled tighter and tighter. Incoherent pleas and moans slip past my lips as my knees try to close, my body begging to feel every last aching sensation building in my core.
“Faster.” I whimpered.
“As you wish.” And just like that, my wish was his command.
His fingers moved faster, pushing me closer to the edge. I felt my body tense, a wave of ecstasy crashing over me as I cried out his name. Every nerve in my body shakes until my eyes roll into my head, and my back arches tightly. Suddenly, the spasming stopped, and my limbs collapsed on my kitchen counter.
I gasped for air, needing a moment to regain my composure, but Jamie didn't give me a moment to recover. He captured my lips and gave a fierce kiss, his hands moving to my hips again and lifting me off the counter. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and we stumbled towards the bed, his hands keeping me straddled on his body until we tumbled onto the bed, the sheets cool against our heated skin. He tore my dress off, physically tore the seams apart, and threw it aside as if it were nothing but a piece of paper in his way. I repaid the favor by ripping off his clothes as fast as my fingers could fumble with the fabric and tossing them across the room.
I paused, letting my eyes linger over Jamie's exposed torso as he hovered above me. His body had changed since high school; he was no longer the scrawny teen I remembered. His shoulders had broadened, each muscle defined under his skin, and his chest was so solid that I bet I could bounce quarters off it.
I’m so screwed.
He leaned down and pressed two lips on my neck, then my chest, and danced his mouth over my bare breast. I gasped softly, arching into him as he slid in and out of me, my fingernails clawing down his back from his neck to his waist, leaving red scratch marks in their wake. His lean body fit perfectly between my legs, and his hot skin felt heavenly on top of mine. He lifted my thigh to wrap around his waist, his fingers digging into my leg as he pushed harder and deeper into me. My toes curled, and every muscle in my calves tightened and quivered around his back as I screamed his name repeatedly in rough, moaning breaths. Then, as fast as it struck, the sensation released and left me breathless and motionless, buried in my bed sheets.
Jamie rolled to my side, his arm gripping my waist and pulling my limp body on top of his, forcefully stealing my lips as if he were sure that if he released me, this moment would disappear.
My phone buzzed on the counter. Its ring snapped Jamie and me back to reality. Our lips parted from each other so fast that it was as if a scorpion had stung us. Our chests heaved, and our eyes were startled, partly from the continuing ring of my phone and partly because I don't think either of us planned for our bodies to silence our brains.
I sat up and pulled the blanket at the foot of my bed over me, wrapping it around my body. “Let me—let me just answer that.” My cheeks were red and pulsing, and my breath still did not return to its normal pace as I hopped out of bed, leaving Jamie speechless and alone on my comforter.
I picked up my phone to see who the intruder was. Damn, it’s Mark. “Hey, I'm busy. Can I call you back?”
He seemed frustrated in his response, as if somehow my lack of time for him insulted his fragile ego. After enduring a few backhanded remarks and angry sentences, I hung up, fully anticipating an argument that would come later.
I smacked the back of my phone case on the counter before turning around to face Jamie, who had reclothed his body and was now walking over to me. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to cool down and begging my brain to reboot and refocus on the situation at hand. I kissed Jamie. What was I thinking? What am I doing? And what do I want to do? This was all too much. He was too much. But no matter how many times I told myself these past years to stay away from him, I knew we would end up right here. He was fire, and I was ice. Two halves of perfect balance, forever destined to be each other's destruction.
“Who was that?” Jamie interrogated me.
“My boss,” I tried to deflect.
Jamie squinted. “Does your boss always call you at 10:00 p.m., sounding like a bitchy boyfriend?”
“He’s not bitchy,” I defended, gripping the blanket tighter around my body, suddenly realizing I was still very much naked. “Not all the time, anyway.”
Jamie huffed. “Sounds like a real keeper.”
Jamie was right; Mark was the worst. Honestly, I was only with him so that my job wouldn't vanish before my eyes; it was a job that was also the worst. But Jamie had no right to come into my house and judge my life, not after he chose to throw away the one we could have had together.
“You don't get to act like a jealous boyfriend anymore, Jamie. You're the one who cheated on me, remember?” I pointed my finger at his chest and jabbed it at him with every word I said. “You broke me. Not the other way around.”
His face softened, and his shoulders hunched in. “You're right.”
I was? Yes, I was!
He tucked the piece of wild hair out of my face and placed it behind my ear. “I wasn't ready back then, but I'm ready now.”
“Ready for what?”
“Ready for you.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could he come here after all these years and expect me to fall back in line, fall back into his arms, and allow my heart to fall for him again? It wasn't right; it wasn't fair. I wanted to be the one to walk away this time.
I pushed his arms off me. “No, you can't do this. You can't do this to me again!” I gripped my head as it spun and pounded with his words. “What are you even doing here? How did you even know where I live?”
His eyes were begging me to give in to his pleas. “Your mom told me.” He paused for a moment, his chest rising as he drew in a long, deep breath. His eyes flickered with momentary hesitation as if he was about to reveal a long-held secret. “She told me you're a mess. That you're dating some douchey lawyer, living without power, and that one of your old professors nominated you for the chance to get a book published through the university press, but you never sent anything in.”
I could feel every nerve in my body exploding with fury as I screamed back, “And?! So?! What does any of that have to do with you?”
As he leaned in towards me, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my body ache. “Because I gave you up so you could have the life you deserve.” He shook his head. “Not this.” He gestured around my apartment.
There was a deep pain in my chest, and I genuinely was concerned I was having a heart attack. “I'm sorry I didn't live up to your expectations.” I could feel the corners of my eyes puddling with water; I held my breath, begging for the tears to retreat.
Jamie immediately reached out his hands and put them on my shoulders, his thumbs rubbing little circles on my neck. “Alex, you're everything to me. Everything.” His voice broke with each word as if the letters were daggers piercing his skin. “I couldn't give you the life you deserved back then, but I can now.” He rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. “Please let me give you that life. Let me fix what I broke.”
That did it. Hot streams of tears flowed down my cheeks, past my lips, and down my neck. “I can't—I just can't” I cried into him.
He lightly released me, his hands trailing down my arms. Then, reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out an object and handed me a small, velvet box. “Think about it.” My lungs had abandoned me as all forms of breath evaporated, and I was left there standing, staring motionless at the little jewelry box in my hand. “I'll be back in fourteen days. Think about it and tell me then,” he said, walking back towards the door without me even speaking a word, without giving me time to comprehend what was happening. His hand was on the doorknob, twisting it open. “I let you go once, and it was the biggest mistake of my life. I will spend the rest of my time trying to make that up to you. I’m going to give you the life of your dreams. You’ll see.”
He opened the door, his body halfway between the hallway and my apartment.
“I love you,” he said.
“Forever and always,” I whispered.
With those last words, he walked out the door, closed it behind him, and left me with the weight of the world smothering me until I was lying on my kitchen floor, gripping an engagement ring in my palm.
Chapter twenty-five
Nothing starts impossible
But it becomes so when you cease to try
1:40 p.m.
I climbed into the backseat with Lucas and Kayla, my fingers curled tightly around the package from Jamie's dad. Its textured surface was cold against my skin. It felt daunting. I wasn’t ready to open it just yet. I promised Lucas I would, but only after we got home. After Kayla dropped the information bomb of the century, I needed a moment to catch my breath.
My dad turned the key, and the engine coughed to life. Honestly, I was shocked it still ran. When we finally arrived home, the house towered above us—an unspoken heaviness hanging over everything.
“Maybe I should go home and change. There’s not much time left,” Kayla suggested, her voice barely cutting through the silence.
“You can wear some of my clothes if you want. There are a bunch of my old dresses in the closet. They’re probably yours anyway,” I tried to keep my tone softer than usual—my attempt at offering an olive branch.
Kayla flashed me a grateful smile, and for a moment, it felt like a fragile truce was forming.
My steps felt like lead as I climbed out of the car. I could hear Kayla’s footsteps behind me as I walked inside and traveled up the stairs. Lucas … well, he disappeared to his room to get ready. My mother’s voice drifted from the bottom of the stairs, faint and far away. She said something about “forty minutes,” but the words barely registered. Time didn’t feel real anymore. Nothing did.
I reached my room and set the package down on my bed. The muted thud sounded louder than it should have. My hands felt numb, like they weren’t even my own, as I walked to the bathroom. Mechanically, I splashed water on my face, the icy water barely registering on my pale skin. My reflection stared back at me in the mirror, unblinking, as I put on makeup and curled my hair. There was no life in the motions—only routine.
Kayla moved to the closet after what felt like hours of silence, pulling out a dress. I followed her as if on autopilot, my fingers grazing the soft fabrics hanging inside, each item of clothing etched with a piece of my childhood. I lingered, my fingers pausing when they touched my graduation dress. It felt significant, somehow. That day was about goodbyes. Today was no different.
I slipped into the dress, the fabric foreign against my skin, like it no longer belonged to me. Maybe nothing did. I walked to my bed and picked up the package again. Somehow, it felt heavier than before.
A soft knock at the door shattered the fragile silence. Lucas stepped inside, and the sight of him in that black suit nearly knocked me over. His eyes were red, swollen; he’d been crying. “You ready to see what’s inside?” he asked gently, nodding to the package. He stepped closer, but I could hardly move.
“No,” I said back. “But I never will be.” My fingers shook as I fumbled with the package. The air between us grew thick, every breath heavier than the last. But there was no turning back. There, all three of us stood, looming over the package as if it were a snake about to bite.
We huddled together, and our heartbeats seemed to sync in the shared rhythm of anticipation and dread. My hands were cold and trembling as I peeled the tape away slowly; the sound of the cardboard tearing cut the air like a knife. My breath caught in my throat as I pulled the sides of the box apart, terrified of what lay inside. My heart raced, pounding in my chest as if trying to escape this moment.
I hesitated, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. Then, with a shaky breath, I peeked inside. Inside the box lay a neatly stacked manuscript, the pages slightly curled at the edges as if they had been handled before. Resting on top was a single envelope, its crisp white paper standing out against the yellowed pages beneath it.
Curious, I reached for the envelope first, my hands trembling slightly as I slid a finger under the flap and pulled out the letter inside. The sight of the official letterhead made my stomach tighten, but it was the bolded words in the first few lines that sent a jolt through me:
