Did I just say I love him? What the hell. I do love the way he looks. He shakes the guy's hand and makes his way over to me.
"Pretty cool place, huh?" He grabs my hand.
"This place is insane. I could spend all day here."
"Well, you'll have plenty of time to explore next week." He nudges me with his shoulder. Holy shit, I forgot about the bet. Does he really expect me to move in with him? I mean, it's not terrible, I do like him, but it seems too soon. I mean, I know it's too soon.
"Unless you don't want to stay here, you don't have to. Jay was just being, well... Jay." He blurts out before I can respond.
"Can I be honest with you?" I stop walking and turn to face him.
"I don't want you to lie to me." He laughs.
"I know that moving here seems crazy. I know it's crazy because we just met. I'm not naive enough to think that I could be yours forever by only knowing you for a few minutes. I know this is going to sound extremely cliche, but after all day walking around, this is the first time I've been somewhere that felt like home." I try to keep the tears from welling up in my eyes. He pulls me into a hug and places a kiss on my forehead.
"If you want to help me find an apartment or something, that's fine, but I think I could give staying here a chance. You know, find a job, maybe go to school." He pushes me out of our hug, both hands placed on my shoulders.
"I would love for you to stay at my house, you can get an apartment if you want, but you are welcome to stay with me, in my bed. I feel like it's where you belong. I know that sounds cliche too."
I smile at him, and he pulls me in. His arm rests around my shoulder as we walk back out onto the street.
It's beginning to get dark, and after grabbing a glass of wine and walking all over, I am beyond tired. Judson opens the car door for me, and I slide in. We laugh and joke the whole way back to his house, and as we pull in, I catch him staring at me.
"You have to stop looking at me like that. I feel like I have something on my face." I pull the mirror down and look at him, weird.
"There is nothing on your face. I just can't keep my eyes or my hands off of you." He flips the mirror back up and puts the car in park.
"They are the only hands I want on me." I smile and open my car door. He comes after me and throws me over his shoulder, and I know exactly what is about to happen. I wiggle around playfully, and he lays a big smack on my butt.
"Judson put me down!!!" I squeal.
"No chance in hell." He slings the door open and shut in one motion. I don't think I've ever been manhandled like this, but I can tell you I am here for it.
The next few hours go by faster than I'd like to admit. I managed to dose off, and now I can't keep from tossing and turning. My sleep schedule is way off. The clock light says 2:12 am, which has to go, by the way. I can't stand any light, and the tiny red numbers drive me insane. I'm a blackout curtains kind of girl. I roll over, and Judson is fast asleep, so I creep out of bed as quietly as possible to avoid waking him up. He just looks so peaceful, in this beautiful bed, his bed. This place is decorated exquisitely, it's beautifully modern with a southern charm, and it's perfect. Not your typical bachelor pad at all. This is ahome. I know creeping around the house at two in the morning seems a little strange, but I feel the sudden urge to explore.
I quickly find myself in Judson's office. The window looks out into the backyard, which has beautiful landscaping, I might add. It's pretty dark in here, so I switch on the desk lamp and look around. There is a bookshelf lining the entire wall, stuffed full of books. I run my hands over the spines and take in the smell; there's nothing like the smell of old books. Judson's college diplomas hang on the wall, and a few signed basketball and hockey jerseys hang meticulously in shadowboxes. Pictures line a shelf opposite the bookshelf, several images of Jameson growing up, some of Judson with his mom. One particular shot stands out to me, a picture of Judson. He looks younger in the picture, possibly a teenager. The giant fish he is holding is as big as the grin on his face. The man standing next to him looks like he is looking at his entire world. I pick the picture up off the shelf to tilt it into the light of the lamp.
"Trying to give me a heart attack?" His soft voice fills the small room.
"Won't be hard to do at your age." I tease. It's only seven years between us now, but I can't help to aggravate him about it.
"In that case, do I need to go make you a bottle?" He laughs. I walk over and slap his shoulder, still holding the picture in my hand.
"Who is that Judson?" I ask as I sit the picture down softly in its spot on the shelf.
He angles the picture and adjusts it as if it is so fragile and special that the thought of this frame being out of place is just too much to bear.
"That was Russ." He sighs and sits back into his desk chair.
I slip onto his lap and run my fingers through his bed hair.
"You look pleased with yourself."
"He was my best friend, and that was a huge catch." I can tell the subject makes him sad, but it's 2 am, and my filter isn't working tonight.
"It looks like you were his best friend too." I smile at him, hoping he will open up to me. It seems as if he knows all this stuff about me and is regularly saving me from myself and my panic attacks. This time I want to be the one he confides in. I can tell he wants to speak, but it seems like Judson just shuts down when it comes to Russ.
Talk to me, damn it.I promise you won't scare me off. He doesn't say anything, so rather than make him uncomfortable, I decide to change the subject.