Days Go By

“Now, don’t tell me you took off your pants, just for me, sweetie,” Garrett smirked, leaning against the doorframe to her kitchen, his arms crossing over his chest as his gaze dragged up her legs, the chuckle leaving his lips at the light blue, animal print panties visible from under the tank top she wore. “And zebra print, hm?”

He watched the blush rise to her cheeks as she turned around, glaring at him. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the shirt over her underwear, glancing at the clock now with confusion. “You’re supposed to be here in an hour, Garrett.”

“You were holding out on me,” he laughed as she stepped past him through the doorway, his fingers catching the hem of her shirt as he tried to get a better look at her underwear. “I thought you were a white, cotton undie kind of girl,” he continued, following after her, amused. “Was that a hint of lace I saw—”

“It’s a laundry day,” Jamie told him before shutting the door, her voice echoing under the door. “And you’d be the last person I’d be wearing animal print lingerie for—”

“Lingerie?” Garrett echoed, his eyes widening now. “I thought that was just—does this mean you’re gonna showing the matching bra?”

“What’re you doing here an hour early, Gar?” she opened the door, a pencil skirt now covering her form as she buttoned up the top two at the front of her blouse, rushing her hands over her attire now with a sigh. “I said to come at eight, not seven.”

“I figured I’d suggest that ol’ breakfast raincheck,” he followed her into the bathroom now, placing himself at her counter as she opened the mirrored cabinet.

Jamie pressed her lips together before shrugging, taking the toothbrush from her mouth and spitting into the sink. “Alright,” she glanced at him, placing it back in her mouth and still talking over it. “Your treat?”

He smirked. “I prefer pet names like sexy and babycakes, but you can be my treat any day, Jamie.”

She glared at him, leaning over to spit out into the sink again. “God, you’re such a comedian in the mornings.”

“Here to brighten your day, one shitty joke at a time,” Garrett smirked as she rushed her fingers over her hair, her attention at her reflection as she began putting on her jewelry now.

“Well, sunshine,” she stepped away from the counter, holding out her arms now. “Whaddya think?”

Garrett let his eyes trace over her, his lips curving into another smirk. “Well, right now I’m thinking of how much lace there’s gonna be on your bra to match those panties, dear—” she swatted him, and he rolled his eyes, motioning for her to come closer to him. Jamie moved closer, standing between his legs now, and he fixed the collar to her shirt. “Ignore me,” he muttered when she tried to look down to see what he was doing, swatting her hand away. “What’s your day looking like?”

Jamie shrugged, trying to look down again, and he bumped her hip with his knee in a scolding manner. She sighed, licking her lips. “Oh, shit, I need lipstick,” she mumbled, shrugging again. “Uh, I’ve got a meeting with my professor before I assist the class he’s got today…”

He nodded along as she told him of her plans, his fingers at the front of her shirt now as he unbuttoned the first button at the top of her collar. She looked down but didn’t stop him, and he continued, grinning sheepishly as he’d reached the fourth button after finishing the third.

“Garrett!” she pushed at his chest, stepping away as she glared at him, laughing. “Jesus, I’m supposed to look professional, you know—not like one of your girls—”

“Professional, Jamie. Not like a damned nun,” he scoffed, grabbing her hand as she tried to re-button them. “Come on, fine—leave the fourth one, but, don’t—”

“The top one will stay unbuttoned—”

“Fifth—”

“Garrett,” she scolded again, and he groaned.

“Fourth—”

“Third, and you stop asking me to flash you my bra—”

He smirked. “Second, and you let me see it.”

Jamie glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re a pig.”

“But a cute one, like the ones we saw on Animal Planet last week.”

“Those were, like, the size of your face—”

“Well, they were probably as long as—”

“Don’t,” she covered his mouth, cringing. “Finish that sentence, mister.”

Garrett smirked, his gaze flickering down to her chest now. “Well, let’s see this infamous lingerie, my dear,” he gestured for her to unbutton her shirt. “I wanna see those guys get to when you’re—”

“Garrett—”

“Just a peek,” he winked at her. “I’ll even keep my hands to myself.”

Her brows rose, and Jamie stepped back, shaking her head. “Those hands better stay off my rack, Garrett Nickelsen.”

“Come on, Jamie,” he whined. “I just wanna look,” he laughed when she sent him another glare. “You’ve seen me in my underwear—or out of it—”

“More than I would ever like,” she corrected, shaking her head. “But you also have the tendency to strip when you come home, so that’s not my fault—”

“Well, you certainly don’t join me,” he winked at her again.

Jamie shook her head. “And there’s a long list of reasons for that, dear. Now come on,” she pulled at his hands. “You promised me breakfast—”

“Which you’ll get,” he pulled her back. “Once I get a good look at this lacy contraption of yours.”

“Garrett—”

“What?” he groaned. “I’m not asking to fuck you, Jamie. I know that won’t happen,” he sent her a glare. “I’m just saying—I just wanna see your fancy lingerie that you’ll never wear for me. Is that too much for your best friend to ask?”

She stared at him. “Yes.”

“Well, we’re not leaving till I see some of that lace,” he smirked, crossing his arms over his chest now with triumph as her jaw fell slack. “Come on, Jamie—it’s just your bra, it isn’t like I’m asking you to strip down—”

“Aren’t you?” she countered, raising her brow.

“No,” Garrett grinned. “Just, y’know, unbutton a bit and lemme take a look,” he laughed when she stared at him, still outraged at the request. “I mean, with underwear like you were wearing, isn’t it only natural for a guy to get curious?”

“That’s the point, Gar,” she deadpanned.

The laugh left his throat then as he smirked, raising his brow. “Well, well, whaddya know—my little Jamie is a tease.”

“And you’re a bit of a demanding pig,” she countered, glaring at him. “Garrett, I’m not going to show you my bra.”

“Why?” he groaned. “It isn’t like it’s see-through—” he stopped himself, raising his brow again. “Or is it?”

Jamie slapped his chest, shaking his head. “No, it’s not.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to need proof, darling,” Garrett smirked now, gesturing at the front of her shirt again. “Let’s see it.”

“And what do I get to make you do in return?” she argued, pressing her lips together. “This isn’t gonna be completely one-sided, Gar. I get nothing out of showing you my bra.”

“Other than the utter satisfaction of being a tease to your best friend?” he countered. “You’re the one playing hard to get, love. I’ll gladly strip down if that’s what you want—”

“No, I can see that anytime I like—or don’t like—unfortunately,” she shook her head.

“So whaddya want, Jamie?” he rose his brow, smirking suggestively now.

“If I let you see this bra—and you get off my case about it,” she glared at him pointedly. “Then…” her mouth slipped into a wide grin. “Then you have to finally call your mother back and agree to come home for dinner.”

Garrett’s jaw dropped and he pressed his hand to his chest, falling back against the wall now dramatically. “You cruel, cruel woman,” he groaned, glaring at her. “Using the mother card?”

Her brow rose with a smirk. “Well, if you’re not interested enough…” she began, her hands rising to the front of her shirt as she began to re-button it.

“Whoa, there,” he took her hand now, sitting back up. “I never said that,” he smirked again. “You’ve got yourself a deal, love.”

“You know, you’re assuming I even match my bra and underwear together,” she told him, and he raised his brow.

“We both know you do.”

She looked out at his outstretched hand with a heavy sigh, her jaw tight and glare prominent at her expression. Stepping away from him, she unbuttoned her shirt to where it was tucked in at her skirt, her hands dropping to her side reluctantly. Garrett smirked, his eyes leaving her glare now as he looked down to her chest—like with her underwear, her bra was the same light blue, zebra-printed fabric, the black lace at the curve.

“Well, look at that,” he smirked, looking up to meet her flushed face with a chuckle. “Aren’t you miss sexy? Is that a push-up, too? Because it makes your rack look—”

“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes, already buttoning her shirt back up and leaving the bathroom. “You can end that compliment there, you sleaze.”

* * *

“You know, I think this may be my favorite item of your clothing yet,” he commented when she folded her arms at the table, his gaze flickering to the sliver of black lace peeking from where she’d left the blouse unbuttoned.

Jamie flushed, looking down before she glared at him, now buttoning up the front of her shirt with a sigh. “More than you liked that sad excuse for a dress I wore for New Year’s last year?”

Garrett smirked, shrugging. “I think we both know that Max loved that dress more than either of us—”

“Oh god, please don’t remind me—”

“Well, he did,” he chuckled. “Spent all night telling me that I’d been keeping the ‘sexy Jamie’ in hiding for too long.”

Jamie shook her head, glaring at him. “And then you spent the rest of the night shouting that ‘sexy Jamie’ was yours and kept me from any New Year’s kiss, thank you very much,” she muttered.

“I offered.”

“And I respectfully declined,” she reminded him. “God knows all of the germs in your mouth from any selection of those girls you’re with—”

“Hey, I brush my teeth,” he argued, and she rolled his eyes.

“Gar, honey, as obsessive you are with your dental care, none of that shit can erase all of the germs from those girls you hook up with.”

He rolled his eyes, shooting her a grin now. “Toothpaste is a powerful thing, love.”

“So is abstinence,” Jamie mocked.

Garrett laughed, not bothering to reply as their waitress placed their meals in front of them. Neither needed to talk much as they ate—Garrett didn’t see the point and Jamie didn’t need to fill the silence, the two comfortable enough after the years they’d known each other that it wasn’t necessary. She mentioned the plans for the rest of the day and he made his few comments or spoke over his food to reply, but the conversation was at a minimum as she either scolded him for talking with food in his mouth or wasn’t expecting an answer anyway.

He finished his meal before her, ordering another coffee when the waitress took his plate away. His phone rested at the table, vibrating every so often—the third time it did so he didn’t bother looking at the caller ID before silencing it, already knowing who was calling. Jamie’s gaze flickered to his phone as it lit up, and she shook her head without commenting at it, instead taking another bite of her pancakes. Garrett simply leaned back in his chair, watching her with a smirk—the button she’d so hastily redone had slipped from the loop, exposing the black lace of her bra again, and he fought the laugh, instead simply humming “Wild Thing” under his breath. Jamie realized this once he reached the chorus, and she kicked him under the table, straightening her posture with another glare.

“You think you’re so clever,” she scolded, and he laughed, looking away from her to thank their waitress when his mug of coffee arrived before replying to Jamie now.

“I have my moments,” he shrugged, reaching for the cream and sugar next.

“Just like you have your moments of being a good son?” her brow rose, and she pointed at his phone now with her fork. “You should really tell your mother you’re coming to dinner, you know.”

“You want me to call her now?” he asked, and she shrugged with a smirk.

“What, would that interrupt you ignoring Tegan’s calls?”

Garrett laughed, looking to his phone as he saw another alert for his missed calls. “It’s impolite to talk on the phone during a meal—”

“It’s also impolite to ignore your girlfriend’s phone calls,” Jamie told him. “Or lead her on, or ditch her to go to the bar with the guys and pick up your new victim—”

“Good thing Tegan isn’t my girlfriend, then,” Garrett brushed her off, smirking. “I’ll call my mom later—”

“No, call her now,” she insisted, taking his phone from the table and holding it out to him. “I need to witness this—”

“Why?” he scoffed.

“Why?” she repeated, staring at him. “Uh, because you made me”—she looked around at the few families nearby, her voice lowering as she leaned over the table—“you made me flash you, that’s why,” she told him with a glare. “So the very least you could do is call your mother.”

“I’d rather just strip for you,” Garrett laughed, his eyes lowering to the view down her shirt now with another smirk. “But, I must say, I’m enjoying this angle almost as much as the first,” he added with a wink. “Push-up bras really do you wonders, Jamie—”

She kicked him again, holding out the phone. “Call your mother, or call Tegan.”

He sighed. “Can’t I just take off my pants?”

“It really worries me that you consider that the easier task,” she muttered, gesturing to his phone again.

“What can I say, darling? I’mma pro,” he smirked, finally taking the phone from her now and silencing it as it began to buzz again with Tegan’s name across the screen.

“Yeah, if the band thing falls through, you can become a prostitute,” she teased. “How classy.”

“Stripper,” he corrected, going through his contacts now that Tegan had hung up. “Strippers are far more classy.”

“Exactly why I said you would be a prostitute instead, hon,” Jamie smirked. Garrett rolled his eyes, pressing send when he reached his mother’s name on the list and holding the phone to his ear now as it rang. “Who’re you calling?”

He didn’t answer as the call connected, motioning for the check as their waitress passed now. “Hey, Ma,” he greeted after his mother answered, ignoring Jamie’s scoff. “It’s Garrett.”

“Oh, Gary, how’re you, sweetheart?” his mother gushed, and he sent Jamie a glare now, sighing.

“Fine, everything’s fine—uh, I was just thinking of coming home sometime this weekend,” he got to the point, not wanting to deal with the small talk his mother would demand for. “Maybe we can have dinner or something—”

“Well, your brother is coming home on Sunday,” his mother interrupted. “Why don’t you come over then, around five? I’d love to have both you boys under my roof again!”

He sighed again, nodding. “Yeah, sure, Ma—”

“Oh, and why don’t you invite that lovely Jamie girl, too? You’re still staying with her, right?”

Jamie was giggling now at his bored expression, and he sent her a glare. “Sorry, Ma, I’m afraid she’s all booked up this week,” he lied, kicking her under the table. “You know how she doesn’t get out much.”

She glared at him but he ignored it as his mother agreed, the excuse dripping off his lips to get off the phone next before he hung up. Raising his brows, now, he dropped his phone back to the table, reaching for his wallet as the check was resting between them and Jamie’s empty plate.

“Thanks for breakfast, Gary,” Jamie quipped with a smirk, and he shrugged.

“Thanks for the show, Jamie,” his gaze flickered down to her chest again in the same mocking tone.

She rolled her eyes, standing from her chair and smoothening her skirt as he grabbed his coat and followed her from the table. He pocketed his phone and wallet again before taking the keys from his jacket, the ring sliding at his fingers as he held open the door for her on the way out.

“So, your mom invited me to dinner again, huh?” she asked him as he unlocked his car, climbing inside as he did the same.

“You know how she is,” he shrugged. “Always welcoming you to this and that, trying to learn about who I’m living with or some shit.”

“You know, I don’t hate your mother quite as much as you do,” Jamie told him as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I could survive a dinner.”

He sent her a look. “I don’t hate my mother.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I just don’t see the point of going home every damn weekend,” he sighed now. “You know how she is. It always goes back to the same shit that I really don’t need to relive.”

Jamie shrugged now, turning on the stereo before leaning back into the passenger seat. “Maybe if I was there, she’d drop it.”

“If I brought home, she’d think I loved you or something.”

“God forbid, huh?” Jamie laughed, and he rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean.” She sent him a grin and he sighed, flicking the blinker before changing lanes. “So you’re meeting your professor by the Psych building or—”

She shook her head. “Nah, you know that big building on the far corner?” he shook his head now, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Instead of turning right to go into campus, on the left, it’s there and that’s where I’m meeting him”—he gave her a blank stare and she laughed—”I’ll just tell you when to stop.”

He nodded now, and she rolled her eyes, the silence filling between them again. The drive was quick as Garrett knew the way well, used to the routine of picking her up or taking her to campus when he could or she asked him to. He felt her stare each time his phone buzzed from where it rested in the cup holder, but he ignored it as easily as he ignored the sound, continuing in the drive despite her scoff. Once they neared her campus, she gave him the proper directions before he let his car come to a stop in front of the building, idling as she gathered her things from the front seat.

“Have a good day at school, girl,” he grinned when she climbed out of the car. “Go figure out what the meaning of life is or some shit.”

Jamie rolled her eyes, and before she could reply, his phone rang again, and she glared at him, shaking her head. “I’d rather just figure out why you can’t just answer the phone,” she rose her brow, and the smirk formed on his lips.

“Honestly, girl, you don’t even want to hear that answer,” he laughed, and she sighed, closing the door and leaning over to speak to him still through the open window.

“Try me.”

His smirk widened now, and he shrugged. “The longer I make her wait, the better the sex is.”

Jamie glared at him now, scoffing. “You’re a pig.”

“You’re a tease,” he countered, grinning as he looked down at her chest again.

“Goodbye, Garrett,” she straightened her posture now, buttoning the front of her shirt again, and he only laughed, calling out the lyrics to “Wild Thing” as he watched her walk away from his car.