I feel him behind me, warm like a fire. His breaths are rapid, the heat of his words on my neck like a warm fire.
“It’s fucking beautiful,” I say, my gaze fixated on the whimsical motion of the water, the bright lights.
“Yeah, it is,” Cam says, his voice a mixture of sadness and warmth.
I turn to see his stormy grey eyes glistening just the slightest, his expression full of something that almost looks like pain.
Mack’s words dance around in my head, but I can’t hold on to them. I hate it when people are upset. Especially people I care about.
His dark hair is a mess and looks all windblown, his cheeks red, probably from running after me and the alcohol.
I reach out without thinking, running my fingers through his hair like a comb to straighten it out.
“There,” I say as I smooth it back out of his eyes. “Now you look perfect,” I say with a grin.
“Good enough for the Met.”
Suddenly I feel warm all over, my chest and throat tight with anticipation as Cam’s gaze settles on my face. And I swear, for a moment, he looks at my mouth, but it’s so quick I have to wonder if I imagined it.
Cam offers me a friendly smile, and just like that, the moment disappears, like a dancing fountain dissolving into thin air.
“Come on,” he says, and I relent. I yawn, reeling in the sudden realization that I am tired as hell.
“Okay,” I say as he wraps his arm around my waist, letting me lean on him.
When we get back to the hotel, I can barely keep my eyes open. Cam fumbles with the key card, and down the hall I hear hollering that can only belong to my band of teammates, even though I don’t see them anywhere.
The door opens and I push my way inside, brushing against Cam as I do so. I waste no time removing my shirt and pants, that heated feeling practically burning me from the inside out.
I collapse on a bed, face first into the pillow.
“Austen…” Cam’s voice is soft, familiar, and like a damn lullaby.
And it’s the last thing I remember before I wake up, my head pounding like a hammer as someone knocks heavily on my door.
“The fuck?” I groan, reaching for my pillow, if only to hold it over my ears. Whoever is banging on my door clearly doesn’t give a shit about the fact my head is fucking splitting.
“Go away,” I murmur, even though I know they can’t hear me.
A moment later, I hear footsteps and the door opens, and the room gets a lot louder as my brother hollers for me to get my ass up.
I groan, swatting the pillow at him, and judging from the sound of annoyance, Mack is here too.
“Looks like someone had a hell of a time last night,” Mack says as my brother jumps on the bed next to me.
“Looks like our little golden boy does know how to have fun,” my brother says, as if he hasn’t picked my ass up when I was drunk before.
Cam grunts something in the background, but I can’t discern what it is. Right now, I just want to be left the hell alone.
God, my head hurts.
“Leave me the hell alone,” I bite as my brother laughs.
“No can do, champ. The sun is up and it’s time to get fucked up.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m still drunk from last night,” I mutter, not bothering to look up. I curl into my comforter, the familiar scent of sandalwood filling my lungs.
“Only one way to cure a hangover, man,” Mack says. “Drink some more.”
