“I guess not,” Valeria says as she jumps off the bathroom counter, needing to walk some of the tension off. She grabs Camila’s hand and guides them into her bedroom, trying to put some distance between them and the needy energy now bouncing off the bathroom walls.
“Sit,” Valeria motions to her bed.
Camila looks at it and gulps. “Did I not just tell you I apparently have no self-control?”
Valeria laughs. “I promise to stay at a perfectly respectable distance. I need your opinion on two outfits.”
Camila nods, and Valeria disappears into her closet, her heart racing at the thought of Camila on her bed,sending restless energy through her, and she doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s like a switch has flipped in her brain. Yesterday, her thoughts about Camila were mostly innocent. Had her pulse spiked anytime they were close? Yes, but this is different. More intense, hungrier. Now that she knows the feeling is mutual, the pull between them seems impossible to ignore, and she can’t stop wanting.
She makes quick work of changing, throwing on a black crop top and a leopard-print maxi skirt she hadn’t worn in years because Brooke hated the high slit, but it was one of Valeria’s favorites, back when she’d worn things for herself.
When she walks out, Camila freezes. It’s subtle, but Valeria catches the way Camila’s breath falters, the way the pupil in her lighter eye dilates.
“You look perfect.”
Valeria twirls slowly, her heart kicking up into a nervous rhythm, and she inches closer. “You think?” She hates how much she wants approval, but loves how Camila is reacting to her.
“Very much so,” Camila says softly.
“You don’t think the slit is too high?” Valeria asks, suddenly feeling self-conscious as she juts her leg out.
Camila’s eyes land on the exposed skin of her upper thigh. Then, her hand reaches for Valeria. Valeria doesn’t move, her skin prickling with anticipation, her pulse quickening, a subtle thrumming in her ears as Camila’s fingers hover, nerves lighting up like exposed wire. The fabric whispers against her leg as she holds the pose, waiting for a touch that doesn’t come as Camila quickly places her hand on her own thigh.
“Definitely,” Camila says before biting her lip—a flush creeping up her neck, coloring her cheeks.
Valeria bites back a smile, spinning with flair, her heart fluttering in her chest as she realizes just how much she undoes Camila.
Back in her closet, Valeria quickly changes into her favorite pair of jeans, keeping the same shirt on. When she looks in the mirror, she decides on the skirt. She wants to feel pretty and desired by Camila. Not that she wouldn’t be in these jeans—which, frankly, make her ass look great, if she may say so herself—but something about how Camila reached for her with barely restrained need has Valeria wanting to chase that. Just because they’re going slow doesn’t mean she doesn’t relish having Camila’s attention on her. Plus, what is a little dating if there’s no flirting?
Valeria quickly changes back into her skirt and steps out, wearing her favorite red boots.
“I thought you were changing,” Camila says, her eyes going straight to the slit on Valeria’s thigh.
“Why would I want to change when you’re looking at me like that?” Valeria asks with a raised eyebrow.
She isn’t usually this bold, but something about Camila makes her want to be. Valeria wishes she had the words to explain it, but she doesn’t. All she knows is that with Camila, everything is different, even her confidence, somehow.
“You’re going to make me regret agreeing to this whole going slow thing if this is what you’re doing day one.”
Something about that gives Valeria a little thrill.
And it doesn’t let up at Lily’s birthday party as Valeria catches Camila watching her and checking her out anytime her eyes land on her, as Camila talks with other people. As if nothing was more important than those few seconds when she took Valeria in. Honestly, Valeria was heady with it even if she pretended not to notice.
By the end of the party, Valeria was glad to be going home. She didn’t think she could handle much more. She was desperate to hold Camila, even just her hand, like she is now—in the car, as Camila drives, a random jazz playlist playing low, their fingers laced and resting on Camila’s thigh.
“Did you have fun tonight?” Valeria rubs Camila’s knuckles.
Camila turns to look at her. “I did, did you?”
“Yeah, but after all we did this weekend, I’m really looking forward to never leaving my house again. I feel drained.”
“Yeah, me, too. I’m so glad I took the day off tomorrow.”
Valeria turns quickly then. “You did?”
Camila nods. “I always take an extra day to recalibrate after camping and vacations.”
“I do the same thing,” Valeria says excitedly. “Maybe we can hang out tomorrow, order in, and watch the rest of our show?”
