Page 88 of All That Glitters

“I wasted so much time,” I whisper.

His brow furrows. He reaches up and brushes his fingertips over my cheek, sending a shiver through me.

“What do you mean?”

A smile stretches my lips. “I was so intent on living in the comfort of our friendship, that I wasted all the years I could have been loving you out loud.” I take his hand and kiss his palm. “I’m in love with you, Jameson. And I’m so sorry for not being brave enough to realize it sooner.”

Emotions flicker over his expression too fast for me to name.

“If we’re apologizing, then I should too. I waited far too long to kiss you.” His voice is low and raspy.

“I guess we have a lot of lost time to make up for,” I murmur, my eyes dipping to his mouth.

I catch a flash of a smile before he leans in and kisses me. The brush of his lips is gentle. It’s a sweet, lingering kiss that makes my toes curl. I’m careful not to move too much, afraid of hurting him somehow, but I do let myself reach up and drag my fingers through his hair. The action elicits a low hum that turns my core molten.

“I love you, Goldie,” he pulls back and whispers against my lips. “I’m trying to think of a quote to give you, but it’s hard to think after you kiss me like that.”

I let out a hushed laugh. “We didn’t have to stop.”

He hums again and then we’re kissing. And I know with all that I am that I want to kiss him every day of the rest of my life. I want to dream up metaphors and find new ways to describe the softness of his lips. I want to lose myself in his touch and forget about my surroundings, coming up for air like I’m coming back to consciousness. I want … him. And only him, every day, for forever.

“Well, looks like he’s just fine, Rosie.” A familiar voice laughs nearby.

I jerk away from Jameson. My face flames with embarrassment. There in the doorway are Jameson’s parents, wearing matching mischievous looks. I open my mouth to say something and then shut it. What would I say? Sorry for making out with your son? That would make everything worse.

“Has the doctor given any updates?” Rose asks, thankfully not saying anything about what they walked in on. Though based on the sparkle in her eyes as she walks over to the bed, I doubt we’ll live this down.

Jameson clears his throat. There’s a tinge of pink on his cheekbones, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling at the sight.

“We’re still waiting on the MRI. Hopefully it won’t be much longer.” Jameson pushes his fingers through his hair. “Y’all didn’t have to come all this way. I could have told you whatever they say over the phone.”

Rose gives him a scolding look. Stan’s expression matches it.

“You know better than to even say that. Of course we’re going to be here for you,” Rosie says. “Now, no more nonsense talk. Are you hungry? I had your dad stop so we could get some food. I figured since Marigold was here we didn’t have to rush.”

Rose shoots me a knowing look that has me blushing all over again.

“I wouldn’t mind something to eat. Thanks, Mom,” Jameson says, then looks at me. “What about you, Goldie?”

“I ate not that long ago, so you don’t have to share with me,” I tell him.

Rose scoffs. “Share? Now, do you really think we got food and didn’t get you anything?” She looks at Stan. “They think we’re bad parents.”

“Apparently,” Stan agrees.

You have so many people who adore you.

Jameson’s words from earlier come to mind as Rose starts pulling burgers out of a paper bag. My chest warms with so much love for the people in this room. I don’t think that the pain of my parents not loving me properly is going to go away any time soon, but moments like these are a balm on my wounded heart.

“We don’t think that,” Jameson says, giving me an exasperated look. “Goldie was trying to be considerate, and so was I.”

Rose rolls her eyes and drops a burger in each of our laps, then a bag of fries.

“Well, quit it. I’m the mama—this is what I do. If you can’t expect me to show up and feed you, then I’ve failed.”

My eyes sting with tears. I don’t want to cry again. I feel far more sensitive these days than I used to be. But how can I not cry when this is what I’ve wanted my whole life, and at the same time, I’ve had it this whole time? I’ve spent so long focusing on what I lacked with my parents that I didn’t see the family I had outside of them.

“Thank you,” I say to her as the tears start to flow.