Page 67 of Wildcat
That sexy smile graces his face. “Jack started it. He bought a house in that neighborhood first.”
“It is a nice neighborhood. Neighbors are questionable.” I aim my camera at him and snap.
“Oh no.” He holds up a hand. “You don’t want to break that thing.”
I look at the picture on the display. His eyes are half-closed. Laughing, I show him.
“I told you. I have never taken a good picture.”
“Never?”
“I mean, they’re varying degrees of bad. From acceptable to flat-out awful.”
I turn the camera around to take a selfie. He grimaces.
“Smile,” I instruct. “Actually, maybe don’t. One, two, pretend I’m flashing you.” I click the button and then bring my camera to my lap to see it.
“You’re looking at my boobs!”
“You said pretend I’m flashing you.”
I set my camera down, and we stare out at the water. He rests one palm on the ground behind me, angling himself so my shoulder brushes his chest.
“I forgot how much I love it here.”
“The lake?”
“Minnesota.” I lean into him. “We left when I was in middle school. Dad got a coaching job in Maryland.”
“You didn’t like it?”
“It was fine. We were only there for two years before he got a job in Michigan. We were there for three years, and then we came back here.”
“How come you decided to go to London?”
“Sounded fun.”
He laughs.
“My high school boyfriend broke up with me about a month before graduation.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We never would have worked. I know that now, but I was heartbroken and wanted to do something drastic.”
“Were your parents supportive?”
“Yeah. Mom did a gap year, and she always talked about how it changed her life.”
“Did it change your life?” He uses the strings on his hoodie to tug me closer.
“Mhmmm. I learned to trust myself and be independent. It was easier there. Since I’ve been back, I feel like everyone is watching and waiting for me to get my life together.”
My eyes dart to his lips. He’s so close now I can feel his breath. My pulse kicks up a notch, and my stomach is doing somersaults. I wasn’t kidding when I told him I wanted to make sure that I liked him fully clothed (aka not naked and kissing me) before we told my dad. I convinced myself that I’d imagined the chemistry between us. Maybe I wanted to protect myself or him, but I’ve dated enough to know that what I’m feeling is rare, and it’s absolutely real.
“You couldn’t have just been a regular guy.”
He chuckles. “Sorry.”
