“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“It must be a tag. It’s itching my neck.”
He shifts to face me. “Here.” He reaches over and pulls the turtleneck away from my skin. “Let me see.”
I hold my breath the entire time he’s looking at my skin, hoping I haven’t broken out into some repulsive rash or something.
“I don’t see a tag.” His voice is steady, and his hands are soft and gentle as they brush my skin.
This is the first time a man has touched me so intimately. And I’m frozen, certain that if I move I’ll do something I can’t take back…like grab Cam and press my lips to his.
His fingers keep moving up and down my neck.
“Savannah…” His tone is low with promise.
Beeeep!
I jump at the sound of a passing car’s loud horn.
Cam clears his throat. He lets go of the turtleneck and pats my shoulder before putting his hands back on the wheel. “We should get going.”
I let out the big breath I’ve been holding. “Right.”
* * *
We hit some traffic and don’t reach Milwaukee until late afternoon, just as the sun is setting.
The desk clerk gives us rooms across the hall from each other. We take the elevator together and then walk down the hall.
“You want to get dinner in a bit?” Cam asks my back as I’m struggling to get my keycard in the slot.
I turn around. “Sure. Just knock on my door.”
“Cool.”
We look at each other in silence until I break the moment by shifting back and successfully opening my door.
“Bye.” I wave and then let the door close behind me.
The room is just a typical chain hotel room, with a bed and one window overlooking the parking lot. I put down my bag and check my phone.
Another text from Celie. Typical of my sister, this text is straight to the point—
Ask Cam to make your New Year’s resolution come true!
I laugh out loud. If Celie had only seen me when Cam did something as minimal as barely touch my neck, she wouldn’t be so quick to encourage. I acted like the shy, inexperienced woman I am.
Cameron Wild is way out of my league. And I need to get Celie’s insistent cheerleading out of my head and remember that.
I grab a change of clothes and my purse and head for the bathroom.
I get dressed quickly and brush my teeth. Then I look in the mirror.
My face is paler than usual, and my lips are chapped from the biting cold of a typical Minnesota winter. I go searching in my purse for some chapstick.
Nothing.
What falls out instead are the two old photographs I’d hurriedly stuffed into my bag the other day.
