“I don’t know what you just said, but I’ll take your word for it,” I say, stealing a hot wing off his plate. He glares at me, and I can’t help but laugh as I dunk the crispy drumstick into his unused ranch.
Honestly, I don’t know why he orders the dressing since he never uses it. He’s lactose intolerant.
“Eye for an eye, bitch,” I mutter.
Cam drains the rest of his beer as I tear my teeth into my prize.
The annual festival is always a hit. Folks drive in from the neighboring states to attend, being as it’s one of the biggest fall festivals in the country.
“So, you going to the festival this weekend?” I ask as I take a pull of my beer.
Cam shakes his head, running a hand through his dark hair
“Probably not. Place is a pumpkin-spice nightmare.”
“I thought you loved pumpkin spice,” I say.
Cam shoots me a sarcastic glare. “One time, Austen. One fucking time.”
I shrug. “And my car still smells like pumpkin, since you so graciously spilled your damn latte after taking precisely two sips.”
I dunk my drumstick back in the ranch, knowing there’s no need to feel self-conscious about double dipping since he’s not going to use it. And even if he was, well, we’re friends, so who cares?
His gaze dips to the ranch, then to me as I tear into the remainder of the meat like a caveman.
He doesn’t blink, doesn’t give me a disgusted look. Not like Savannah does. Of course, I won’t say that though. Savannah and Cam’s relationship is… touchy. I’d love nothing more than for my best friend and fiancée to get along, but life isn’t so simple.
“You nervous about tonight?” he asks, pulling apart his wing. I don’t know why he doesn’t just tear into it like a normal person.
I sigh, chewing my lip. Tonight I’d planned on going to the strip club with some teammates and friends for the first time.
It’s not like I’d neverthoughtabout going before, but the situation just… never came up.
I didn’t want Savannah to be pissed at me, and the idea of paying strange women to rub themselves over my crotch just put me off.
“A little, yeah,” I admit sheepishly. “I swear, you don’t know how lucky you are, man.” It’s the truth.
Cam raises an eyebrow at me. “Lucky? How so?”
I grab another drumstick from his plate, dredging it in the extra buffalo sauce on his plate before coating it in a heavy dunkof ranch. Some of the hot sauce mixes with the ranch, turning it pink.
“You’ll never have to deal with this shit,” I say.
Cam’s never been quiet about his sexual preferences, and I respect him for that. But I’ve always been a little jealous, too.
Cam can just… be himself. Even in this stupid ass town that judges everyone for everything. He doesn’t hide shit. A part of me envies that he does what he wants, without having to answer to someone about it. He looks the other way when people make comments about him and he doesn’t let it affect him.
Cam coughs, pointing to his mouth.
“You, uh…”
“What?” I ask, my mouth half-full of ranch-coated, buffalo-sauced chicken.
“Got a little something in the corner, there,” he says with a smirk as he brushes his finger over the left side of his mouth.
I use my tongue, trying to lick the corner of my mouth, looking at him.
“Did I get it?” I murmur.
