Page 42 of Eight Count Heat
That gets a real smile. "Of course you do."
"Want to know a secret?" I pull her closer still. "I think you do, too."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because you're still here."
She considers this, head tilted slightly, then her eyes flicker to my lips. Just for a second. "Maybe I just like the lake."
"Maybe." My fingers tighten around the back of her neck. I'm encouraged when she doesn't pull away. "Or maybe you're tired of pretending all the time."
"With you, I don't have to."
"No," I agree. "You don't."
This time when she moves, it's deliberate. When she rises onto her toes and kisses me, it's a choice, not an impulse.
Her lips are soft, warm against the cool night air. The kiss starts gentle, questioning, but deepens when I respond. My free hand finds her waist, hers tangles in my hair, and for a moment the careful distance she maintains with everyone just disappears.
When we break apart, we're both breathing harder.
"That was..." she starts.
"A mistake?" I finish.
"I was going to say unexpected."
"Good unexpected or bad unexpected?"
She considers this, lips still close enough to mine that I can feel her breath. "Ask me later."
"How much later?"
"When I figure out what the hell I'm doing."
I laugh, surprising myself. "Fair enough."
She steps back, but not far. "We should really go back now."
"Yeah." I don't move. "We should."
Neither of us moves.
"Cameron?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For this. For seeing me."
"Thank you for letting me."
The ride back is different. She holds on tighter, less careful about contact. When I drop her off at the edge of campus, she lingers.
"This stays between us?" she asks.
"Whatever this is, yeah."
She nods, then impulsively leans in and kisses my visor. "Goodnight, Cameron."
