VIVIAN
“So,” I started carefully, “is Jesse supposed to be short for anything?”
“James,” he answered, voice like rich honey, deep and smooth and mesmerizing.
I laughed nervously. “Isn’t that a syllable shorter?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders. His suit jacket looked like it was struggling to contain him. “That’s just what my mother called me. Somewhere along the line, it stuck.”
We walked alongside each other, a respectable foot and a half or so between us. Even still, I was enveloped in the scent of his cologne. It wasn’t overbearing, but subtle. Sophisticated. Manly. I knew for a fact that Wally still used that cheap Axe body spray, the type that hurt my nose when he used too much of it. Jesse, in contrast, smelled good.
And it was definitely more of a problem than I anticipated
