Cam’s arm tightens around me. “Y—you—” His voice comes out strangled, and he clears his throat twice before trying again. “You want to lose your virginity?”
I nod, grateful my back is to him so I don’t have to see the look on his face.
“Yes. I’m twenty-two, and I want to have sex. Good sex,” I add.
“Savannah…” He mutters a string of words into my hair.
I don’t hear all of what he says, but the words “Fuck” and “Christ” are definitely in there.
“I’m sorry,” I say immediately. “I’m sure that’s not the kind of resolution you thought I’d need help with.”
“Not exactly,” he says in a calmer tone. “Why don’t we talk about this later when we’re both completely awake?”
So I close my eyes and will myself back to sleep.
* * *
When I wake up, Cam’s no longer next to me. Before I can wonder where he is, the bathroom door opens, and he steps into the room. I wonder if we slept cuddled together for the rest of the night, or if he moved away from me once I fell asleep the last time. After I asked him to take my virg…
I raise my eyes to meet his, which are studying me.
“Good morning,” I say, trying my best to sound casual.
“How’d you sleep?” he asks me.
“Fine. You?”
“Great.” He comes over and sits down next to me. “I’m sorry if I startled you, you know, by sleeping in the same bed.” He pauses. “After your nightmare, I just did what felt right and…”
I bite my lip.
“I had a nice night, Savannah.” His cheeks flush.
I smile at him. “Me too.”
Our eyes catch.
Cam chuckles. “We’ll talk about the other thing later. First, let’s go get some breakfast. I have somewhere in mind.”
* * *
We park on Main Street in Lovelake and step out onto the sidewalk.
As I look up at the building in front of us, I officially fall further into lust, or like, or love, with Cam. I don’t understand my feelings for him—I just know I’m crushing on him hard.
Because the place he has picked out for breakfast is called—
“Beignets?” I squeal like a little girl.
His eyes light up. “That’s why I’ve been bugging you to come here with me.”
“But the coffee shop in Climax has beignets.”
“This place, though—it’s hardcore.” He holds the door open for me, and as we step inside the shop, he points at the menu on the wall.
The beignets are hand-made, and there are so many varieties that my head is spinning.
“Salted caramel,” I read aloud. “Pumpkin pie and raspberry.” I turn to Cam, my smile huge. “I want to try all of them.”
