Chapter 16
By the time the bread arrived with our drinks and was placed on the glossy square table between us, I’d gotten better control of my breathing. The nervousness returned in the truck ride to the restaurant, though Cam didn’t seem to notice and was completely at ease.
I spent way too much time pouring over the menu as I resisted the urge to start chewing on my pretty nails.
Cam nudged me under the table with his foot and I looked up. “What?”
He nodded to my left, and I saw the waiter standing there with a smile. “Oh, um, can I get the…” I picked the first thing my eyes centered on. “Chicken marsala?”
The waiter scribbled that down and then Cam ordered a steak, medium rare with a side salad, and baked potato. When the waiter left, Cam went for the bread. “Want a piece?”
“Sure.” I hoped I didn’t choke on it. I watched him slice a piece in half and then butter it up. “Thank you.”
He arched a brow, but said nothing as I nibbled the bread, a tiny piece at a time. I racked my brain for something, anything to say. It didn’t even have to be interesting. I just needed to speak. For some reason, the conversation he’d had with Ollie resurfaced and I latched onto it. “Do you play any sports?”
Cam blinked as if caught off guard.
I flushed. “Sorry. That’s really random.”
“It’s okay.” He chewed the bread slowly. “I used to play.”
Thankful that he was playing along, I relaxed a little. “What sport?”
He cut off another slice of bread. “I played soccer.”
“Really?” Why were all soccer players hot? Was it some kind of universal law of soccer? “What position?”
Even though I knew Cam probably suspected I didn’t know squat about soccer, he went along with it. “I was a striker, which is a middle player position.”
“Oh!” I nodded like I had a clue what any of that meant.
Cam flashed that dimple. “That means I did a lot of scoring.”
“So you were good?”
“I was decent. Had to be fast, so a lot of running.”
That’s pretty much all I knew about soccer—a lot of running. “Did you play in high school?”
“High school, rec league, and my first year of college.”
I dared another bite of bread. So far so good. “Why’d you stop?”
Cam opened his mouth, but then closed it. Staring over my shoulder, several moments passed before he shrugged. “Just not something I wanted to do anymore.”
I was the queen of giving evasive answers, so I knew one when I heard one. And I so wanted to dig deeper and find out more, but I had given the same lame answer when he’d asked me about dancing. I wasn’t really in the position to push.
His ultra bright gaze settled on me and in the dim lighting, I felt my face turn a deeper shade of pink. Jesus, I needed to stop blushing.
He chuckled, and I wanted to throw my bread in his face. “Avery…”
“Cam?”
He leaned over onto the table and the small candle in the center sent dancing shadows across his face. “You don’t have to be so nervous.”
“I’m not.”
His brows rose.
I sighed. “Okay. I am. Sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing? You don’t need to. This is your first date.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” I muttered.
His lips twitched as if he wished to smile. “It’s not a bad thing. You’re going to be nervous.”
“You’re not.”
“That’s because I’m awesome.”
I rolled my eyes.
He laughed, and the sound was deep and rich. “You just don’t have to be. I want to be here with you, Avery. You don’t have to worry about impressing me or wowing me. You’ve already done that.”
“That’s…” I shook my head, ignoring the lump in my throat. I stared at him. “You’re just so… I don’t know. You just know what to say to…”
“To?”
I tucked my hair back and then dropped my hand in my lap. It was shaking. “You just say the right stuff.”
“It’s because I’m—”
“Awesome,” I supplied. “I know that.”
Cam leaned back. “I wasn’t going to say that, but I’m glad you’re starting to realize my awesomeness.”
“Then what were you going to say?”
“That I said that because it’s true and I want to.”
“Why me?” I blurted out, and then closed my eyes briefly. “Okay. Don’t answer that.”
The food arrived just then—thank God—and the conversation was deterred… for about two minutes. “I’m going to answer that question,” Cam said, peering at me through his lashes.
I wanted to face-plant my stuffed chicken. “You don’t have to.”
“No, I think I do.”
Clenching my silverware, I drew in a deep breath. “I know it’s a stupid question to ask, but you’re gorgeous, Cam. You’re nice and you’re funny. You’re smart. I’ve been turning you down for two months. You could go out with anyone, but you’re here with me.”
“Yes, I am.”
“With the girl who’s never been out on a date before,” I added, looking him dead on. “It just doesn’t seem real.”
“Okay.” He cut off a piece of steak. “I’m here with you because I want to be—because I like you. Ah—let me finish. I’ve already told you. You’re different—in a good way so get that look off your face.”
My eyes narrowed.
He grinned. “And I’ll admit, some of the times I asked you out, I knew you weren’t going to say yes. And maybe while I wasn’t always being serious when I did, I was always serious about wanting to take you out. You get that?”
Um, not really, but I nodded.
“And I like hanging out with you.” He popped a piece of steak into his mouth. “And hey, I think I’m a pretty damn good catch for your first date.”
“Oh my God.” I laughed. “I can’t believe you just said you were a good catch.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I am. Now eat your chicken before I do.”
Smiling, I started to pick it apart, going for the stuffed part first. With the exception of asking a stupid question, my first date was going well. Cam started steering the questions and I wasn’t a mute just sitting here. Though, every so often, our gazes would lock and I’d forget what I was doing or completely lose track of what he was saying. But I was having a good time—I was enjoying myself and Cam. And the best part? I wasn’t thinking beyond right now. I was just… here and it was a nice place to be.
Toward the end of dinner, Cam asked, “So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving? Going back home to Texas?”
I snorted. “No.”
His brows knitted. “You’re not going home?”
Finishing off my chicken, I shook my head. “I’m staying here. Are you going home?”
“I’m going home, not sure exactly when.” He picked up his glass. “You’re seriously not going home at all? It’s more than a week—nine days. You have time.”
“My parents… are traveling, so I’m staying here.” That wasn’t a huge lie. Around this time of year, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, my parents took cruises or went on ski trips. “Do your parents do the big Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze falling to his empty plate.
Conversation lulled a little at that point and as the check arrived, Cam didn’t seem like he wanted to linger. The night air was beyond chilly and our breaths formed puffy, misty white clouds. A fierce wind kicked up, picking up my hair and throwing it around my face. I shivered and hunkered down in my jacket.
“Cold?”
“It’s not Texas,” I admitted.
Cam chuckled and stepped closer, dropping his arm over my shoulders. His body warmth immediately slipped over mine and I worked hard at not tensing and falling flat on my ass. “Better?” he asked.
All I could do was nod.
Once out of the brutal wind, I buckled myself in. Cam climbed in, started the engine and then smacked his hands together, rubbing them. He glanced over at me. “Did you have a good dinner?”
“Yes. And thank you for the food. I mean, dinner. Thank you,” I stumbled over my words, closing my eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Amusement colored his tone. “Thank you for finally agreeing to let me take you out.”
He turned the radio on after that, not loud enough that we couldn’t talk, but I was too busy focusing on important stuff. Somewhere between Hagerstown and University Heights, I had made an extremely important decision.
If Cam kissed me, I would not freak.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
I would act like a f*cking nineteen-year-old girl with an iota of experience and not freak. Then again, he might not kiss me. He might’ve realized at some point during our date that I wasn’t kiss-worthy and high tail his ass back to his apartment to hang out with Ollie and Raphael. And if so, that would be okay. I would be okay with that.
But when we got back to our apartment building and as we reached the fifth floor, I realized I didn’t want the night to be over yet. We stopped in front of my door, and I turned to face him, twisting my fingers along the strap of my purse.
His lips quirked up on one side. “So…”
“Would you like to come in? For something to drink? I have coffee or hot chocolate.” Hot chocolate? Seriously? Was I twelve? F*ck me. “I don’t have any beer or anything more—”
“Hot chocolate would be good,” he cut in. “Only if you have the kind with those tiny marshmallows.”
My lips spread into a smile and I didn’t care how big or goofy it looked. “I do.”
“Then lead the way, sweetheart.”
Heart pumping, I let us into my apartment and turned on the lamp beside the couch. Shedding my jacket, I headed into the kitchen. Cam sat on the couch while I whipped us up some hot chocolate. While the water heated up, I yanked off my shoes. I brought two steaming cups back.
“Thank you.” He took one. “Got a question for you.”
“Okay.” I sat facing him, tucking my legs under me.
He took a sip. “So based on your first date experience, would you go out on a second?”
A pleasant feeling hummed in my chest. “Like a second in general?”
“In general.”
I shrugged and then tried some of my hot chocolate. “Well, this was a very good first date. If second dates were like this, then I guess I would.”
“Hmm. With just anyone or…?”
My lashes lowered. “Not with just anyone.”
“So it would have to be someone in particular?”
The pleasant feeling spread into my limbs. “I think it would have to be.”
“Interesting,” he murmured, taking another drink. When he looked at me, his eyes positively twinkled. Christ. I was screwed. Eyes were twinkling at me. “Is this someone in particular going to have to wait another two months if they ask you out?”
I couldn’t fight the smile, so I took a drink. “Depends.”
“On?”
“My mood.”
Cam chuckled. “Get ready.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to ask you out again—not dinner, because I like to change things up. It’s to the movies.”
I pretended to think about it, but I already knew I’d say yes. Might be a dumb move or pointless, but I wanted to go out on another date with him. “Movies?”
He nodded. “But it’s a drive-in movie, one of the last ones around.”
“Outside?”
“Yep.” His grin spread. “Don’t worry. I’d keep you warm.”
I didn’t know if I should giggle or tell him that last statement was kind of adorably corny. “Okay.”
His brows rose. “Okay to the movies?”
Biting down on my lip, I nodded.
“Seriously it isn’t going to take me another two months?”
I shook my head.
Cam looked away, laughing under his breath. “Okay. How about Wednesday?”
“Next Wednesday?”
“Nope.”
I sat my hot chocolate down on the coffee table. “The following Wednesday?”
“Yep.”
Counting the days down, I ended up frowning. “Wait. That’s the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.”
“It is.”
I stared at him. “Cam, aren’t you going home?”
“I am.”
“When? After the movies, in the middle of the night, or Thanksgiving morning?”
He shook his head. “See, the drive-in movie theater is just outside of my hometown. About ten miles out.”
I leaned back against the couch, confused. “I don’t understand.”
Cam finished off the hot chocolate and twisted toward me. He scooted over so only a handful of inches separated us. “If you go on this date with me, you’re going to have to go home with me.”
“What?’ I shrieked, sitting up straight. “Go home with you?”
He pressed his lips together and nodded his head.
“Are you serious?”
“Serious as my pierced eardrum,” he said. “Come home with me. We’ll have fun.”
“Go home with you—to your parents’ house? Basically for Thanksgiving?” When he nodded again, I smacked him on the arm. “Don’t be stupid, Cam.”
“I’m not being stupid. I’m being serious. My parents won’t mind.” He paused, nose wrinkling. “Actually, they’d probably be happy to see someone other than me. And my mom likes to cook way too much food. The more mouths, the better.”
There were no words.
“We can leave whenever you want, but obviously before Wednesday afternoon. You finishing the rest of your hot chocolate?” When I shook my head, he grabbed my cup. “And we can come back whenever.”
I watched him drink the rest of my hot chocolate. “I can’t go with you.”
He raised his brows. “Why not?”
“Because of a hundred obvious reasons, Cam. Your parents are going to think—”
“They’re not going to think anything.”
I shot him a look.
He sighed. “Okay. Look at it this way. It’s better than you sitting home, by yourself, all week. What are you going to do? Sit around and read? And miss me, because you’re going to miss me. And then I’m going to have spend most of my time texting you and feeling bad that you’re sitting home, all alone, and can’t even eat McDonalds because they’re closed on Thanksgiving.”
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. It’s not a big deal. I have no problem staying here.”
“I don’t want you sitting here alone and you’re making this into a big deal. I’m a friend asking a friend to come hang out with me over Thanksgiving break.”
“You’re a friend who just took a friend out on a date!”
“Ah,” he said, sitting my cup down. “That’s a good point.”
Shaking my head, I picked up a pillow, holding it to my chest. “I can’t do that. Visiting family over the holidays? That’s way too—”
“Fast?” he supplied.
“Yes. Way too fast.”
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing that we’re not seeing each other then, because yes, it would be too fast if that was the case.”
“What the, what?”
Cam pulled the pillow away and tossed it behind him. “You and I are two friends who went out on one date. Maybe two if you come with me. We’re not dating each other. We’re just friends who had one date. So we will be going back to my house as friends.”
My head was spinning. “You make no sense.”
“I make perfect sense. We haven’t even kissed, Avery. We’re just friends.”
I gaped at him.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Come home with me, Avery. I promise you it won’t be uncomfortable. My parents would be happy to have you. You will have a good time and it will be better than what you’d end up doing here. And nothing, absolutely nothing is expected from you. Okay?”
The word no formed on my tongue, but for some reason it didn’t come out of my mouth. My thoughts raced from vaguely entertaining the idea to flat out telling him he was insane. Go home with him? That was… way better than spending Thanksgiving here alone. It was bad enough when I did live at home and my parents skipped out of town without me, but at least the maid made me a turkey dinner. Mrs. Gibson. She’d baked me a turkey for the last three years. And was McDonalds really closed? Man, that sucked. But going home with Cam was insane. His reasoning made no sense whatsoever. It was like backwards reasoning or something. It was reckless and just so unlike anything I’d ever do.
Unlike anything I’d ever do.
I looked up, meeting his steady gaze. His eyes… were such an astonishing shade of blue. Was I really considering this? My heart started thumping in my chest. I swallowed. “Your parents really would be okay with this?”
Something glinted in his eyes. “I’ve brought friends home before.”
“Girls?”
He shook his head.
Well, that… that was interesting. “And your parents are really going to think we’re just friends?”
“Why would I have a reason to tell them we weren’t dating if we were? If I say we’re friends, that’s what they’ll think.”
Every logical part of me was screaming no. “Okay. I’ll go home with you.” Once the words were out, I couldn’t take them back. “This is an insane idea.”
“It’s a perfect idea.” A slow smile spread across his lips. “Let’s hug on it.”
“What?”
“Hug on it.” That glint in his eyes went up a notch. “Once you hug on it, you can’t go back on it.”
“Oh my God, are you serious?”
“Very serious.”
Rolling my eyes, I grumbled as I rose onto my knees and stretched my arms out. “Alright, let’s hug to seal our deal before I change—” My words ended in a squeak as Cam’s arms went around my waist and he tugged me over to him. I ended up sitting right next to him, practically on him, with my left leg tangled between his knees.
Cam hugged me. It wasn’t a tight one, not like it would’ve been if we were standing, but the fact we were so close this way had such a powerful effect on me. “Deal is sealed, sweetheart. Thanksgiving is at the Hamilton’s.”
I said something to the affirmative and as I pulled back a little, our faces were perfectly lined up. And I suddenly understood that glint in his eyes. “You…”
He chuckled, and low in my stomach, muscles tightened. “Smooth move, huh? Got you all the way over here. I would’ve taken you on your word.”
I was fighting a grin. “You’re so wrong.”
“I’m wrong in all the right ways. I have to admit something.” He regained that tiny distance I’d put between us. His lips brushed my cheek, and I found it hard to concentrate. “I lied earlier.”
“About what?”
His hands slid to my lower back. “When I said you looked great? I wasn’t being completely honest.”
That was not what I expected. I turned my head the slightest and then bit back a gasp. Our mouths were centimeters apart and I thought about Brit’s certainty that he would kiss me tonight. I forced my tongue to work. “You don’t think I look great?”
“No,” he said, his expression serious as one hand followed the line of my spine, resting below the edges of my hair. He lowered his head so that his temple pressed against mine. “You look beautiful tonight.”
My breath caught. “Thank you.”
He didn’t say anything as he shifted his head. His lips brushed the curve of my cheek, and I stiffened in his arms. My heart was thundering out of excitement and a different kind of emotion. Fear? Was that what I tasted in the back of my throat? It had come out of nowhere, raw and powerful. The mixture of the two, the need to stay where I was and to pull away was consuming.
Cam’s lips swept over the hollow of my cheek and then his nose brushed mine. His breath was warm against my lips and smelled of sweet chocolate. Would it taste that way? The curiosity rose and I reached up, putting my hands on his biceps.
“Avery?”
My eyes drifted shut. “What?”
“You’ve never been kissed before, right?”
My pulse exploded. “No.”
“Just so we’re clear,” he said. “This isn’t a kiss.”
I opened my mouth and then his lips were on mine. A sweet sweeping of his lips across mine, breathtakingly tender and soft, and way too quick.
“You kissed me,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his sweater.
“That wasn’t a kiss,” his lips brushed mine as he spoke. Shivers raced up and down my spine. “Remember? If we’ve kissed, then that means you going home with me could potentially mean something more serious.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“This is also not a kiss.”
The press of his lips the second time consumed me, awakened me. His mouth was all I could think about, all I wanted to think about. A wonderful warmth slipped down my neck, spreading across my chest, and then lower, between my thighs. He kissed me gently, tracing the pattern of my lips with his own. Something deep inside me was rising, opening, and aching. I clung to him as he shifted and I was suddenly on my back.
Cam hovered over me, the powerful muscles of his arms flexing under my hands. His mouth was still on mine. No other part of our bodies touched and I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or disappointed by that. But his lips… oh, God, his lips moved against mine. I started to kiss him back, slower and clumsy where his had been sure, practiced. I was worried I was doing it wrong, but then a deep sound came from him, almost a growl and instinctively I knew it was a sound of approval. A shudder rocked its way down my body. The ache was spreading, intensifying and it was terrifying in its own way.
His kiss deepened, coaxing my lips to open to his. My senses spun as his tongue slipped in, licking over mine. I gasped at the sensation, and his tongue delved deeply. I fell into the kiss, my fingers clenching and my neck arching. He tasted of chocolate and man and I was coming out my skin as lust stirred in the pit of my stomach, followed by a burst of fluttery panic. That was smoothed away as his tongue flicked along the roof of my mouth. When he lifted his head again, he caught my lower lip between his teeth and a pleased whimper escaped me. Both of us were breathing heavy.
“Still not a kiss?” I asked.
Cam sat back, pulling me up into a sitting position. His eyes were that intense blue, hot and searing. I felt flushed all over. My chest rose and fell rapidly. My hands were still attached to his arms. He reached up, tracing the line of my lower lip and then he leaned in again.
“No, that wasn’t a kiss.” His lips brushed mine in the most tantalizing, promising way. “That was a goodnight.”