“Outside of soccer? Ugh.” I exhaled. “I love watching Lo work with marketing and using PR to spin things in a positive light. I think that’s cool, but also running this youth camps is a highlight. I know saying being a social media star is silly, butI’d love that. Helping explain things to people or highlighting the good. I think I’d do that.”
“With your face, yes. You’re already killing it now. I love watching your videos. I sometimes watch them at night even if I saw you film them live.”
“Wait, really?” I grinned, hard. “You have a crush on me.”
“Shut up. Obviously, I do.” He rolled his eyes, but the tips of his ears turned red.
“You’re blushing. This is so cute.” I grabbed the camera and took a picture of him before he could stop me. “I love this. I’m saving this forever. The day Dean Romano blushed.”
“I want a picture of you then. That’s only fair.”
“Okay. Sure.” I turned it for a selfie mode and made a kissy face before snapping the shot. It printed it, and I shook it out, rolling my eyes. “I look ridiculous.”
“False.” Dean snagged it out of my hands and smiled at it. “Perfect. It has your eyes and hair. I love those parts of you. It’s gonna be hard to see your rainbow grow out.”
“Big fan of the rainbow?”
“Hell yeah.” He took my little polaroid photo and put it under his overhead visor. I watched with emotion in my throat. The gesture was so sweet my voice thickened. We pulled into the campsite, then exited the car. I took a deep breath of the fresh summer air.
Cicadas buzzed, and trees rustled in the wind. It smelled like moss and a lake nearby. I pointed toward our post as he neared it and grinned at him. I needed a distraction from these pesky feelings that would never be reciprocated. He liked me, that was clear, but love? Nah.
“Let’s make a tent and fuck in it.”
“Dream woman.”
It took…longer than expected to pitch a tent. Sweat pooled down my back, my face, between my boobs, but we did it. We made a little tent baby. “I’m so proud of us.”
“Why was that so hard? Fuck.” He wiped his forehead with the base of his shirt, his white teeth flashing at me. He looked super fucking good with his cutoff workout shirt and jeans. “You’re giving me eyes right now.”
“I like you sweaty.”
“Yeah?” His grin grew as he held up a finger. “Two minutes, then your ass is mine, Mallinson.”
“Two minutes? For what?”
He jogged to the car and brought back our duffel and sleeping bags. We had snacks and bug spray, a boom box with batteries for music, and a bottle of rum. The final piece was starting the fire for hot dogs, but my stomach swooped with anticipation over the way Dean looked at me.
Like love.
No. It was the moment. It was magical and perfect but just a moment. I shook off the feeling and covered my laugher as he struggled to open the sleeping bag. “You need help with the zipper?”
“Unless it’s your pants, no.” He grunted. “It’s stuck. Or jammed.”
“Or.” I walked toward him, carefully. “You’re doing it too hard. Sometimes, you need to be gentle.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is this in reference tome,Mack?”
I winked.
“God, you’re sexy.” He laughed and looped his arm around my waist. “I want to feel your sweaty body on me, riding me.”
“Well, someone can’t open up a zipper, so excuse me for saving the day.” I fixed it within a few seconds, and before I could do anything, Dean tossed it into the tent and picked me up.
“Your ass. In there. Strip.”
“Wow, you doing okay? You’re not using full sentences.”
He growled as he shut the tent, struggling to close the zipper again.
