Page 37 of Elusion

If the tone wasn’t enough, the way her muscles tense make it clear I’ve stumbled upon the root cause of her bad mood. Despite an immense curiosity, I want to steer clear.

I stroke her hair, thinking of a topic change. “Who was your first childhood crush?”

She relaxes against my side again. “Pete Daniels in preschool. You?”

“Maggie Larsen, babysitter. What about your first kiss?”

“Pete Daniels.” She lifts her head to look at me. “Just to clarify, he was also my first date and first boyfriend.”

I shake my head, realizing I chose a shitty line of questioning. “Pete needs to die.”

A ghost of a smile appears, and she turns it back on me. “First kiss?”

I don’t even hesitate. “Maggie Larsen.”

A spark returns to her eyes when her smile fully develops. Callie’s back. “Really?”

“No, Callie.” I push her head back onto my chest. “She was fifteen, and I was five.”

She laughs, snuggling into me. “A real ladies’ man would have sealed that deal.”

Her mood exponentially improves as we talk. We cover a myriad of topics spanning from our least favorite movies to most embarrassing moments. Every time she laughs or smiles, a world outside of the makeshift tent ceases to exist. Even the concept of time folds and warps around us, losing all meaning. At least it seems to until my phone vibrates with messages, ruining the illusion of us being the only two people in existence.

I switch it off and toss it in the corner, not the least bit interested in anything but her.

Callie sits up and stares down at me. “Do you really want to start your twenty-first year on the planet in a blanket fort with a bitchy girl who won’t put out?”

“You’re right. My birthday wish included a bitchy girl whodoesput out. Do you think Jess knows how to build a decent fort?”

“You could go ask,” she says with a shrug. “If not, you two can borrow this one.”

“Celibacy sounds preferable.”

She lowers back on her side, facing me. “Is this still just to sleep with me?”

The urge to answer her nearly wins out, but my recently discovered self-control stops me. Even the slightest chance of it being about meeting a challenge poses too much of a risk.

I roll over and push up my elbow. “Ask me on Saturday.”

“I won’t be here on Saturday,” she whispers.

I’m focused on her mouth, my resolve slipping with it so close to mine. Needing to feel my lips on her, I lean in and kiss her forehead, then the tip of her nose. It’s not enough, but I won’t stop if I let myself go any further. “Just do as you’re told, you maddening woman.”

She holds my gaze, the space between us harder to maintain. All of a sudden, she drops onto her back and lets out an exasperated sigh. The dramatics suggest she’s spending too much time around me. “This is the longest five seconds in the history of the world.”

“Five seconds?” The choice of number snags my attention, and with the way her lips twitch, I know it holds significance. “Why do you and Benji both keep mentioning five seconds?”

Ignoring my question, she grabs her phone from above our heads. “Less than a minute to midnight. Should we start a countdown?”

I swipe her phone away. “Yeah, let’s start one at five seconds. Until then, you can explain the relevance.”

Her eyes widen, but she recovers with a smirk. “Ask me on Saturday.”

She amazes me.

Holy hell.

If given the option, I would walk over hot coals rather than sleep on a floor again.

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