Brit’s eyes lit up. “Oh, my God, girl, we so have tons of time to get ready.”

“I need a week to get ready?”

Her head bobbed vigorously. “You’ve got to get your hair done, your nails done, and then you should get waxed, you know, down—”

“Alright, when you guys start talking about waxing unmentionable places, that’s my cue to get the hell out of here.” Jacob grabbed his bag and stood. Stopping by me, he kissed my cheek. “Seriously, it’s about time.”

My cheeks warmed and I murmured “Thanks,” but didn’t really know why because it seemed like a weird time to say thank you.

After Jacob stumbled out the door, Brit picked up her cup. “Serious moment?”

“Okay.” I figured I was about to get a detailed lesson on Brazilian waxes and prepared myself.

Brit twisted toward me and when she spoke, her voice was uncharacteristically low. “Last night at the party, when that guy tried to dance with you…”

Uh-oh. My stomach shot straight to my toes. “Yeah?”

“What happened between you two?” She wetted her lips. “I saw him grabbing you.”

I looked away, swallowing against the sudden nauseous feeling. “That’s all he did. He just surprised me and I overreacted. I feel like a total idiot.”

Brit sucked her lip in-between her teeth as she watched me. “Not that some guy grabbing you is cool, because it’s not and although it freaking happens at parties all the time, it’s really annoying.” She paused. “Why did you overreact?”

Shifting in my chair, I slid my hands over my thighs. “Like I said, I was just surprised. He caught me off guard.”

“He caught you off guard…” she repeated and then took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m going to be real with you. That’s what friends do, right?”

Unease rose swiftly, snaking its way through me. “Right.”

There was a pause. “I saw your face, Avery. You were scared out of your mind. It wasn’t just being caught off guard or because you don’t go to parties. And I’m not trying to be ignorant by saying this, so please God don’t take it that way, but that’s not a normal reaction.”

Not a normal reaction. Didn’t I know that? I glanced at her and all of a sudden I wanted to tell her the truth—tell her everything. The need was inexplicable and rode me hard. It came up, making it to the tip of my tongue. Years worth of silence hung in the air between us. Brit waited with an open look etched upon her face and already, before I even opened my mouth, I could see it in her eyes and in the taut pull around her lips. She wasn’t stupid. She suspected something, maybe even the worst. Sympathy. Maybe even pity shone in her eyes.

“Did… did something happen to you, Avery?” she asked quietly.

The need to tell her, to tell someone deflated like a balloon with a tiny pin prick in it. My gaze shifted to the window and beyond, to the congested street outside. I shook my head. “No, nothing has happened to me.”

Chapter 15

Brit didn’t bring the conversation up again after that morning in the coffee shop and like Jacob had promised, the following day, he’d been excessively excited—jumping, clapping, doing a little dance—over the upcoming date with Cam. One would think Jacob was actually going out with him.

I tried not to obsess over the date as impossible as that was. Even harder to not think about it every time I was around Cam. Nothing had changed between us but everything had in a way. When he sat beside me in class, I became absurdly aware of him. Each time he moved and his leg or arm brushed mine, a prickling sensation would wash over my entire body and would last the rest of the hour. I wasn’t sure if he noticed and I really hoped he hadn’t.

Over the next week, an early deep freeze had settled over the Panhandle. The trees were bare and the wind off the Potomac rattled them like hollow, dry bones, and it had been a long time since I’d been in this kind of weather. No matter how much I bundled up, I felt like I was in Alaska every time I walked to class.

The Friday before the ‘big night’ Cam was in an odd mood, actually taking notes in class.

“Look at you,” I murmured as Professor Drage flipped through pictures of the Milky Way on the projector. “You’re paying attention.”

Cam sent me a sidelong glance. “I always pay attention.”

“Uh-huh.”

He twirled his pen between his fingers, keeping his eyes glued to Drage. “You’d fail if it weren’t for me.”

My lips curved up. “I’d be able to concentrate more if it weren’t for you.”

“Is that so?” He leaned in so that his shoulder pressed into mine. Watching the front of the class for a moment, he then turned. When he spoke, his lips brushed my temple, causing heat to rise to my skin. “Why do you find me so distracting, sweetheart?”

“Not the way you think,” I said, which was a lie.

“Keep telling yourself that.”


“One day your ego is going to make your head implode.”

“I doubt that day will ever come,” he replied, and then with the edge of his pen, he trailed it across the back of my right hand, right up to the edge of my sweater. “Is that distracting?”

At a total loss for words, my fingers stilled around my pen.

“Is it?” The pen moved back down my hand, over my knuckles. “Did you pick up how many stars make up Orion’s belt? No?” The pen was on the move again, and who knew a pen could be so… so sensual. “There are three stars that make up the belt, sweetheart.”

I bit down on my lip.

A soft, low rumble emanated from his chest. “That’s fucking distracting,” he murmured, “whenever you do that.”

My eyes widened as the air pushed from my lungs.

He chuckled deeply, and a delicate shiver coursed down my spine. “You know what?”

“What?” I whispered.

Cam shifted closer, acting like he was stretching. I tensed, having no idea what he was up to. His arm came behind me and then his lips were warm and firm against my skin, below my ear. A pulse shot through me, unnerving and something else—something exciting.

His lips curved against me, and I shuddered. “I cannot wait for tomorrow night.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes. Cam chuckled again and settled back in his seat, eyes on the front of the class, pen scribbling across his notebook. I was so done with class. Nothing was getting through the fog that was my brain now and I was so, so incredibly in over my head with him.

Brit and I spent the afternoon getting our nails done. It had been so long since I’d had a manicure and a pedicure, that I forgot how incredibly bored I got during the procedure and how once there was wet nail polish gleaming on my nails, I wanted to touch everything I laid eyes on.

“Are you nervous?” Brit asked as she wiggled her hot pink toenails.

Resisting the urge to pull my hands out from the lamps and through my hair, I nodded vigorously. “Yes, I’m nervous. Does that make me lame? Because if so I am the queen of lame right now.”

She giggled. “I don’t think so. Being nervous means you’re excited. Hell, I’m excited! I’m so living vicariously through you. You have to call me immediately afterward tonight.” A sly look crossed her face. “Unless tonight turns into tomorrow…”

My mouth dropped open.

Another fit of giggles took her as she pressed back in her chair. “Okay. I doubt that’s going to happen, but you need to call me right away. I have to know if he’s a good kisser.”

“How do you know if we’re going to kiss?”

“Seriously?” she said, gaping at me. “He’s so going to kiss you.”

My stomach did the dipping thing. “Maybe not.”

“Oh, no, he’s going to kiss you. He’s probably going to want to do lots, lots more, but he’ll kiss you. I just know it.” Brit let out a squeal that brought a nervous grin to my face. “I bet he’s an awesome kisser.”

If I had to base his kissing skills off what I already knew of him, I’d have to say he was probably a great kisser, especially if he could have me damn near squirming in my seat just by running a pen along my hand. It was like foreplay… with a pen.

I giggled.

After the mani and pedi, Brit made me promise once more that I’d call her as soon as I could after my date and then I headed back to my apartment. Careful with my shiny purple nails, I took the longest shower in my life and then went through my entire closet. Every time I looked at the time and saw it getting closer and closer to seven, I felt my heart throw itself against my ribs like it was just about to climb out of my chest.

I had my whole freaking closet on my bed and half on my floor. Seemed kind of stupid to be this indecisive about what to wear, but I honestly had no idea. Finally, after almost breaking down and calling Brit for advice, I settled on a pair of skinny jeans tucked into black boots and a deep green cap sleeve blouse that was a little dressy and flirty.

I took the same amount of time on my makeup and hair, just as bad as it had been when he’d come over to watch movies. It struck me funny as I applied mascara that I’d be this concerned with my appearance when he always saw me looking like a rag-a-muffin on Sundays when he came over to cook eggs.

Oh my God, tomorrow was Sunday, which was a big duh, because that day always came after Saturday, but tomorrow would be a different Sunday. It would be the first one after our date. Would we still be doing eggs? What if the date did end up turning into a tomorrow morning thing? I wasn’t naive. Cam could easily expect that this date was going to lead somewhere.

In my reflection, my eyes were unnaturally wide in the mirror and the mascara wand was dangerously close to my eyeball.

The date was so not leading to my bedroom because it looked like Old Navy had thrown up in there.

Okay. I was being stupid. Tomorrow would be no different than today. Tonight was not going to become a sex-fueled all-nighter for several reasons. And there was no reason for me to act like I had no idea that Sunday was the day after Saturday.

Finishing my little come to Jesus pep talk, I forced myself out of the bathroom. The nervous excitement humming through my veins wasn’t a bad feeling. It was quite… different, like a good kind of anxiousness. I was literally two seconds away from doing a little ass shaking jig in the middle of my living room when Cam showed up.

He stepped into my apartment, his gaze starting at the top of my head and making it all the way down to the pointy tips of my black boots. Amazing how a look could feel like a touch and I felt it in a way that put my earlier edginess to shame.

Cam cleared his throat. “You look… really, really great.”

I flushed. “Thank you. So do you.”

And that was the freaking truth. Cam was just in dark jeans, a black v-neck sweater that stretched across his broad shoulders and with his dark hair tumbling over his forehead and the slight half grin on his face, he was absolutely stunning. So much so, I sort of wondered what I was doing here, about to go out on a date with him.



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