me was so visceral that my body couldn't hold it—I was laughing and wrapping my arms around his neck and, yes, hormone crying.

Jamie's pillowy lips were endlessly familiar, probably because I hadn't replaced them with any other in all the months since promising to be friends again. We kissed and kissed as the rain poured down mere feet away from the overhang sheltering us.

I pulled away to gauge Jamie's reaction, our mouths parting with an audible smooch. His giddy smile matched my own.

A surprised giggle burst out of my lungs. "Hi."

"Hello," he said, his thumbs gently wiping away the moisture on my face.

Then Jamie's powerful arms encircled my waist and lifted me to his chest, spinning me around and around in the air. I felt lighter than hydrogen, and just as excitable—I felt like I'd found home. My jubilant laughter didn't stop until he set me down.

We stayed intertwined, gazing at each other. My fingers coiled lazily through his hair.

"You know, it was good until you said my full name," Jamie whispered. "For future reference."

I murmured back, "I like your full name."

"No-one likes my full name—" I do. I love everything about you. "—but thanks for saying that."

An argument bristled at the tip of my tongue, but Jamie swooped down for another kiss before I could push the matter. His mouth swept firmly across mine before I felt his teeth tugging my lower lip. A trickle of pure lightning slid down my spine and settled in my core.

Then Jamie slid his tongue in and my train of thought combusted. The way he explored the contours of my mouth, tasting, testing, teasing, and matched my movements, was more addictive than alcohol.

We parted, but not by much. Jamie rested his lips against my forehead, his chest rising and falling in front of my eyes. I was so ecstatic I'd stopped feeling my extremities.

"By the way," he said, the rumble of his voice reverberating through me, "I love you, too."

I bit my lip, ridiculously unfairly happy. "I— Wait." I glanced up at Jamie and stepped backward, out of his embrace. "Did you just cheat on Farrah? Am I the other woman now?"

Jamie shook his head. "Farrah's just a study buddy."

I cocked my brows. "Who you were 'getting to know' the whole semester. Who comes to visit you at the dorm and who studies with you. Who brings you free food all the time. Who supports you at all your events." Sounded like a doting girlfriend to me.

"Farrah and I have a Computer Science class together, which she couldn't grasp. I offered to help because I don't struggle with coding, but she wouldn't take any free tutoring, and I wouldn't give her my Venmo. So she paid me in UberEats whenever I wanted, with, I admit, startling frequency. I think I gained weight just from the last month alone."

I frowned. Tutoring someone precluded nothing. I was helping Jamie with Innovating Philanthropy the entire semester, but that didn't mean I hadn't wanted to jump his bones the whole time.

"Did you ever..." I touched my forefingers together.

"No!" Jamie laughed.

"But Farrah's into you! I know she is."

"She's definitely not."

"She is," I insisted. "Remember the night you two met? She'd been giving you bedroom eyes in the bar. You can't deny that."

"I won't deny it," Jamie agreed. "But she wasn't giving me bedroom eyes. If Farrah wanted to hook up with me, why wouldn't we have gone to 'study' in my bedroom instead of the first floor, where you and the girls were? Plus, the whole reason she wanted to come to the IP study sessions was because of you."

"What? Oh."

"If you could see how Farrah is when you aren't around, you'd understand. Though, I think she's really torn whether she wants to befriend you, be with you, or be you," he shrugged nonchalantly. "Bi struggles, according to her."

Warmth flurried in my chest. I was flattered and honoured by Farrah's opinion of me—somehow, being complimented by heterosexual men meant far, far less than being complimented by a woman.

And then I felt like a bitch.

I hadn't been rude or unwelcoming outwardly, but I'd harboured a lot of bitterness and jealousy this semester. I'd wrongly treated Farrah like a competitor for male attention, all because of a stupid misunderstanding—

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me this?" I exclaimed, jabbing a finger into Jamie's pectoral. "I thought she was your girlfriend the whole semester."

Jamie's hand gripped my hip and tugged me closer. "Hey, we never lied about anything. I just... didn't correct your assumptions. Farrah agreed seeing an 'alternative ending' would give you some much-needed context."

"So she doesn't think I'm a catty bitch?"

"She thinks you're the shit."

"You should have just told me," I grumbled once more, burying my face into his citrus-scented shirt.

"Well, you told me to move on from you. I thought if I pretended I was, you'd feel more comfortable being around me. Because I missed being your friend." The smirk was evident in his voice as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Obviously, the sex was great. But I missed talking to you. And your bad jokes."

"Bad jokes?" I pulled away with a glare.

"I love you, Viv," Jamie reminded me.

Butterflies erupted in my chest, and the indignation faded.

Damn it. Those three words were too powerful a weapon to hold.

"You're evil."

"Say it back," he pouted.

I rolled my eyes and tiptoed to peck his nose. "I love you, too."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Unlike me, Jamie came prepared with an umbrella.

We walked arm-in-arm back to the dorm underneath drizzling rain, dashing through the empty common room, and now he was peppering kisses along my neck as I dug around my handbag for my room key.

Once in my bedroom, I kicked off my pumps and wrapped my arms around his ribs for a long hug. I mumbled against his chest, "If you're tired from presenting we can just sleep."

"I won't be able to sleep. I'm buzzing right now," he returned excitedly. "I've waited the entire semester for this."

I lifted my chin to stare up at Jamie, his ecstatic expression igniting a flurry in my chest. "It really didn't seem like it."

"Well, I made you a promise to be friends again," he explained. "And I keep my promises."

Walking backwards, Jamie guided us to my bed. He sat back against it and pulled me onto his lap, my arms shifting to encircle his neck. This was so nice. I couldn't believe how much I'd underestimated pure, simple hugging while we were friends with benefits, but now I never wanted to leave his embrace.

"What would have happened if I didn't tell you how I felt?" I wondered, a bolt of nerves striking my gut.

"Nothing," Jamie admitted, his thumbs stroking my hips. "Pushing you for a commitment was only pushing you away, right? You were very clear about what you needed from me, and making advances was not on the list."

"So you're ambivalent either way? You are okay with not being with me?"

As soon as the words left my lips, I winced. The embarrassment welled up from within. That sounded so needy, so insecure, but there it was. I wasn't perfect, especially not in a relationship. I wondered if now Jamie would see exactly what he was signing up for—all my jealousy, all my doubts—and run for the hills.

"The last thing I am is ambivalent. It would have gutted me if we graduated and I never found out what we could be," Jamie murmured, his green eyes comforting. "But I would have waited and I would have hoped that, if you were ever ready to fall in love again, I would be at the top of your list."

Pride and contentment swelled in my lungs. "Tanner, you really are something special."

"Why, thank you." His hands slid between our torsos to unbutton my blouse. A shiver of a different kind ran through me as I leaned towards his touch. "I tried to tell you the first time we met, but I'm pretty happy things happened this way, too."

I giggled, my hands raking through his hair, up until his lips skimmed across my skin.

With each sliver of my torso revealed, Jamie pressed a gentle kiss to my chest—one on the collarbone, one on my raging heartbeat, one on my sternum, and lower still...

Heat pooled between my legs.

"You know I can't go back to pretending I'm not in deep for you, Viv," Jamie murmured against my skin. "I want to be your boyfriend, not your boy toy. I want anniversaries and I want you to meet my parents."

I squirmed on his lap, trying to ease the ache in my centre. Jamie's lips stopped when the cups of my bra were uncovered, lightly skimming side to side.

"I want it all," he said huskily. "So tell me now if you want something else."

I whispered lovingly, "I want it all," before my eyes fell shut and our lips fell together.

I let out a low groan of approval when Jamie sucked my tongue into his mouth and tangled it with his. Deft, determined hands slid my blouse down my arms and off my body. In the back of my head, I heard it land—noisily knocking over the empty water bottle on my desk.

"Shit," Jamie laughed, his warm fingers caressing each of my ribs. "Sorry about that."

I chuckled into the kiss. "No harm, dude."

Jamie's hands at my sides suddenly tightened, holding my waist in an insistent grip. "Never call me dude again," he said, before sucking on my bottom lip with such intensity I moaned and swept my tongue over it to check for broken skin.

Tearing my mouth away, I agreed, "Done."

I shifted my weight on his lap and felt Jamie's length underneath me, hard as steel. "You know, this shirt," I fiddled with the pastel blue collar, "flatters you so much."

"Let me guess, but it looks better on the floor?" he smirked.

"Read my mind," I quipped, working at the buttons. "So get it off."

"Yes, m'am," Jamie chuckled. His hands took over from me, and soon he shed the shirt to reveal the picturesque expanse of his chest.

"Much better."

His heated stare held my eyes as I took great delight in rolling my hips over him, increasing the friction every time. The hoarse sigh that left his throat sent another flood of heat between my legs; I'd probably soaked my underwear at this point.

Jamie turned sideways, holding me against his body, and laid me on the mattress. Each time he swept his lips across mine, or caressed my waist, or sighed contentedly into my mouth, I felt like he was pressing sentences into my skin. Soliloquies and poetry that faded after seconds, like breath on a frosty window, only to be adoringly replaced by more.

It had always been this way, with Jamie.

Each touch was charged with meaning, almost like music. He could play my body like an instrument, and vice versa. A whole range of emotions erupted each time we collided. When he tickled my back—comfort. When he laced his fingers through mine as we... made love. When I refused to look him in eyes during sex, riding him at speeds too high to differentiate between him and a faceless other, I was communicating fear.

This, here, now, was a claim. And I welcomed it.

Mouths finding each other again, my fingers unfastened my button and zipper. Jamie lifted off me to let me shimmy out of my trousers, unbuckling his own belt. Then I scooted backwards until my head landed on the pillow, lazily watching Jamie strip in front of me.

"Fuck, I've missed watching you on this bed," he admitted, pushing the waistband of his trousers off his toned hips. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you more." My lips pulled upward as I rolled onto my side and propped my head up on an elbow. "Even when I didn't know it."

Jamie matched my smile with a secretive one of his own.

Then he dropped his pants.

I took one look at his proud erection and stopped thinking coherently. "Definitely missed him, too."

"Women these days," Jamie joked, climbing onto the bed. The mattress wobbled as he pulled me into his arms. "They only want one thing and it's disgusting."

I slid my hand to the back of his neck, raking it through his soft curls. "A living minimum wage?"

"See, this is what I meant by bad jokes."

"Excuse me, that's comedic gold."

Both our laughter filled the room while our mouths found each other again.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

I should really just give my stories 'banter + kisses' as a logline because that's pretty much all they are ;)

Aimee x