“But what?” I ask, lowering my gaze to the table and stirring the ice in my glass.
“I see the way he looks at you.”
That gets my attention. It’s my turn to prop my elbows on the table. “How does he look at me?”
“Like you’ve changed his life.”
After a delectable dinner and no sign of Cam, we snag a couple of bananas and apples from the lobby to snack on in the morning, then head back to our hotel room. We left the windows open, and as we enter, the white drapes billow in the breeze.
In tandem, we remove our makeup and brush our teeth. When I’m finished and in my pajamas, I settle under the sheets, set my alarm, and plug my phone into its charger beside me.Then I set two backup alarms that’ll go off in ten-minute increments, just in case, and flip off the light over my nightstand.
Alone in the quiet, dim room, I can’t help but let my mind wander to our conversation at dinner. Millie thinks Cam looks at me like I’ve changed his life? Doubtful. I’m pretty badass, but not that badass.
“It’s okay to like him,” she said. And I do like him. But do Ilikelike him?
What we have is just sex. That’s all it can be.
And damn, was it fantastic sex. Just the thought makes my blood heat and my pussy pulse. Refusing to overthink it, I grab my phone off the nightstand and prop myself up against the headboard. With my cousin still in the bathroom, I tug the front of my negligee—coincidentally, it’s the “cover-up” I wore the night we met—until just a peek of areola is visible through the lace trim. I wrap my right arm around my torso and lift. One strap falls off my shoulder in the process, but I don’t fix it. With my free hand, I swipe open my camera app and angle it so my face is hidden (rule number one of taking nudes: never show your face) then snap a few shots. Sinking lower again, I examine each one and then open my text thread with Cam.
Me
How were your photoshoots tonight? Anything like this?
When there’s no immediate reply, I switch to my Kindle app. The world may be scary and weird and overwhelming at times, but I sure do love living in an age where I have access to books on my phone.
I’m two chapters into Hannah Bonam-Young’s latest release when Millie crawls into bed, bringing with her a wave of orange blossom. I must remember to snag the travel toiletries from the bathroom before we leave. They’re heavenly.
“What’s wrong, boo?”
She knowsme too well.
I’m about to shrug off the question when a text notification appears at the top of my screen. I tap the banner, and my thread with Cam opens.
“Let me see,” Millie squeals.
I tilt the screen away, but she shuffles closer and twists my wrist so she can get a better look. Nosy bitch.
“Don’t you dare,” she scolds playfully when I try to pull away.
Cam
My dirty girl. I knew it was lingerie
He remembers what I wore a year ago.
Me
Cam
Come over
Me
Can’t Waking up early for a hike with Millie
Cam
