“In what way?” she asks.
“Maybe it was more than his magic love-rod that made all those women fall for him,” I say, warming to my theory. “Maybe he gets them addicted to the love-rod, then turns on the lovey-dovey charm to reel them in, and then—BAM! As soon as they start to lower their defenses and want to snuggle up and play house, he decides he’s bored and moves on.”
Dawn makes a skeptical noise. “I don’t know, Maddie. It doesn’t sound like he was being manipulative. It sounds like he’s just having a great time being with you. You’re having a good time with him, right?”
“Yes,” I say around a mouthful of my thumb, my teeth digging into the skin so hard it stings a little. “The sex is so good I think I’m at risk of becoming a nymphomaniac.”
“Sounds like a good problem to have.” She laughs. “So why do you sound so miserable? You’re making problems where there aren’t any. Relax and enjoy things. Give him a chance. You might be pleasantly surprised.”
“Maybe. Or maybe not… I don’t know. I’m so confused.” I turn back to the window, gazing at the firehouse across the street where only half an hour ago I was happier than I’ve been in ages.
Argh! Why did Jamison have to start looking at me with mushy eyes and saying sweet things and ruin everything?
“I thought I was ready, but maybe I’m not. Maybe it’s too soon to jump into something serious with lots of feelings in it,” I continue, spinning away from the window. “Especially with a guy like Jamison. He’s been my friend since we were little and I love him, but I know what he’s really like. He’s the nicest heartbreaker ever, but he’s still a heartbreaker.”
“Now, slow down for a second,” Dawn says, but I push on.
“I mean, I’ve never seen him in a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks, and never anything serious.” I pace faster, running a shaking hand through my hair. “He says there was this woman, Wendy, in Atlanta that he was ready to commit to at one point, but no one in Bliss River ever met her. And how serious could it have been if he never brought her home to meet his family or friends?”
“Maddie, I think—”
“And what is wrong with him, anyway?” I huff. “To start saying things like ‘the morning doesn’t feel right without you’ to me right now? We’ve only been dating a week and I’m nowhere near as pretty as most of the girls he’s dated or as thin or as blond. I mean, sure, I have big boobs, but that’s only because I have a big bottom to match, and I’ve never seen Jamison with a girl with a big bottom. Never. So where is this obsession with my parts even coming from? And why is he—”
“Maddie!” Dawn shouts, loud enough to make me flinch and my mouth snap shut. “Stop this! You’re being crazy.”
“No, I’m not,” I say in a small voice, hurt that she can’t see where I’m coming from. “I’m trying to be rational.”
“Honey, love isn’t rational,” she says gently. “I’m not saying you should jump in blindly and ignore your reservations about Jamison. But bailing on him when you’re the one who said you were open to something serious isn’t fair either.”
I bite my lip. “Then what should I do?”
“Talk to him,” she says, as if that’s the easiest thing in the world. “Talk to him about your concerns and see what he has to say. He might surprise you. It sounds like there’s more going on in his head and his heart than you’re giving him credit for.”
I pull in a deep breath and let it out slowly, seriously considering what she’s said. Considering I’ve been naked with Jamison at least a dozen times, the thought of talking honestly with him shouldn’t be all that scary. But it is. This won’t be witty banter or light conversation, this will be the real Maddie standing in front of him, dressed in nothing but my fear and insecurities.
But Dawn’s right.
Jamison deserves to know what I’m thinking before I cut and run.
“Okay,” I finally say. “I’ll talk to him. Tonight.”
“Good,” Dawn says. “Now can I ask your advice on something?”
“Sure thing.” I relax, immediately feeling more like myself now that the conversation is shifting away from my problems. I’ve always been more comfortable being the strong shoulder than the one shedding tears on it.
“I’m thinking about moving to Atlanta. Like, in the next week,” she says, triggering a squeal of excitement from me.
Dawn’s lived in Little Rock, Arkansas, for years, far enough away that we only see each other once or twice a year. Having another best friend close to home sounds like Christmas coming early to me.