And it’s an action that speaks more than words ever could.
“Should we go back inside or—”
My fingers wrap around the lapels of his suit jacket, and I drag his mouth down to mine before he can finish the thought.
We’ve kissed plenty of times at this point, but something is different about this one. A spark ignites in my stomach when hispalm cups my jaw, tilting my head up a little more to deepen the kiss.
His lips move gently against mine, keeping it measured and controlled. But then he shifts my world on its axis with the swipe of his tongue along my lower lip. The hand on his jacket tightens from the contact, and when I part my lips, allowing his tongue to dip inside and brush my own, I nearly come undone.
I fight back the surge of desire slamming against my willpower like waves crashing into a levee—a losing battle I know I stand no chance of winning. And when a soft groan somehow manages to slip from his mouth, all bets are off.
The sound breaks something inside me in a way I’ve rarely experienced. It sends all the blood in my body rushing south on a dime, causing my cock to twitch and thicken behind my dress slacks. I yank him closer, close enough to feel my growing erection against his thigh. I’m desperate for more contact. Craving more connection.
More, more, mo—
Camden pulls back, abruptly ending the kiss and dropping his forehead to rest on mine.
“I think…that was…enough of…a show,” he whispers between heavy pants.
I blink a couple times, trying to understand his meaning, only to remember the reporter just inside—if he were even a reporter at all. Part of me wonders, subconsciously, if I’d convinced myself it was just an excuse to kiss him. Because, somewhere in the midst of his lips on mine, I’d forgotten the entire reason I was kissing him in the first place. Instead, I was doing it just because I wanted to.
Oh, fucking hell.
Clearing my throat, I nod and take a step away. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Spearing a hand through his hair, Camden turns toward thedark expanse of the lake and takes a moment to right himself. After smoothing the wrinkles I made in his jacket as best he can and adjusting his cuffs, he glances over at me.
“What do you want to do?”
All I can do is shake my head.
“What I want and what needs to be done are two completely different things,” I reply ruefully, only to turn away from him, and head back inside to where my parents are waiting.
Thirteen
Camden
I stare at the ceiling of my bedroom like I’m waiting for my turn on the gallows, a sense of impending doom lingering in the air around me. Because this is it. Doomsday. D-day for short, because if that’s the letter that shows up on my philosophy final?
Well, then I can kiss my entire future goodbye.
I’m not generally an anxious person, but apprehension has kept me on edge all day, despite knowing it’s out of my hands now. Then again, every time my damn phone has gone off today, I’ve been sent into a panic spiral until I realize it’s not my test score.
But having gone through that cycle at least a dozen times since waking up, I think it’s a little understandable why I’m in this current mental state. Distractions like a gym session or going for a run haven’t done much to help either, so here I am.
Staring and waiting.
For what feels like fucking hours.
I truly don’t know how much time has passed when there’s a soft knock at the door, only for Logan’s muffled voice to come from the other side.
“Are you in there?”
Unfortunately.
“Yeah,” I mumble, my attention still fixed at the same spot overhead.
A couple seconds pass before the sound of the handle turning hits my ears, then the soft squeak of the hinge opening and closing again. Quiet footfalls grow louder as he slowly approaches, only for him to wordlessly drop onto the mattress beside me, mirroring my position.
