“So,” Josie started, popping a marshmallow into her mouth. “Since you guys are like, officially a thing now… what’s the ship name? We need to know for the hashtags.”
Cal blinked, startled. “The… ship name?”
“Yeah,” Cadence said, scrolling on her phone. “We were thinking ‘Cilas.’ Or maybe ‘Sal.’ But ‘Sal’ sounds like a pizza guy.”
“I vote for Dead Reed,” Taylor shouted from where he was poking the fire with a stick.
“Absolutely not,” I said immediately.
“Okay, okay,” Josie continued, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Serious question though, Cal. Has Silas ever tried to put you in a headlock? Because he has small arms, I feel like you could take him.”
Cal snorted, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me in tight. “Oh, I can take him. He’s all talk.”
“Excuse me?” I scoffed, elbowing him in the ribs. “I’mliterallycoming for your championship.”
“You’re a brat,” Cal corrected, kissing my temple right in front of them.
Cadence let out a loud, dramatic sigh. “Ugh. You guys are sickeningly cute. It’s actually gross. Do it again so I can get a video.”
“You guys are weird,” Cal laughed, but he didn’t move away. He tightened his grip on me, looking more at home here in the dirt and smoke than I had ever seen him in a VIP lounge.
The music shifted then, the upbeat tempo fading into the opening chords of Luke Bryan’s“Drunk on You.”
Cal groaned audibly, dropping his head back. “Oh, god. Is country music getting worse? I feel like it’s getting worse.”
I grinned. I knew he hated it. Which meant I had to make it a problem.
I started humming along, nudging him.
“Stop,” Cal warned, fighting a smile.
I sang louder, leaning into his space.
“Silas, I swear to god,” he laughed, trying to shove me away, but his hands lingered on my arms.
I looked over and saw Scott pull Jayme into his arms. They were swaying near the fire, Scott whispering something that made Jayme throw her head back and laugh. It was playful, happy, and so simple.
I wanted that. I wanted to be the guy dancing by the fire with the person he loved.
I stood up and held out my hand to Cal.
He looked at my hand, then up at me, eyebrows raised. “You’re kidding.”
“Dance with me, Kincaid,” I said.
“To fucking Luke Bryan?”
“To fucking Luke Bryan.”
He rolled his eyes so hard it probably hurt, but he took my hand. I pulled him up, and he stepped into my space without hesitation. I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him flush against me, and he draped his arms over my shoulders, his fingers toying with the hair at the nape of my neck.
We swayed there, the fire crackling beside us, the smell of woodsmoke and pine filling the air. I kept singing the lyrics softly, just for him, watching the way the firelight danced in his hazel eyes. He was pretending to be annoyed, but the softness in his expression gave him away. He looked peaceful.
I glanced over and saw Josie and Cadence holding up their phones. They were recording us, snapping photos, grinning like idiots.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Then buzzed again. And again.
I pulled it out with one hand, keeping the other on Cal’s waist.
