Chapter 9
“Are you sure you know how to use this thing?” I asked, staring at the telescope.
Cam shot me a look over his shoulder. “What? You don’t?”
“Nope.”
“Weren’t you paying attention in class when Drage went over this and the imaging cameras?”
I crossed my arms. “You were drawing the cast of Duck Dynasty when he was going over that.”
He laughed as he turned back to the telescope and started adjusting the knobs and buttons and other things I couldn’t remember. “I was listening.”
“Uh-huh.” I inched closer, using his body as a shield against the cool wind whipping across the roof of the Byrd Center. “You’re actually a pretty good artist.”
“I know.”
I rolled my eyes, but he really was. The sketches were disturbingly life-like, right down to the beards.
He bent over, moving a lever. “I’ve used a telescope a time or two in my life.”
“That’s random.”
“Okay. I used it when I had the class previously,” he corrected, sending me a quick grin as he straightened. Tipping his head back, he checked out the dark sky. “Man, I don’t know if we’re going to be able to get anything before those clouds roll in.”
Following his gaze, I winced. Intense, tumultuous clouds were obscuring most of the night sky. There was a wet feel to the air, a smell of rain. “Well, you better hurry then.”
“Bossy,” he murmured.
I grinned.
“Come over here and I’ll show you how to use this.” He stepped back, and with a sigh, I took his place. “Are you going to pay attention?”
“Not really,” I admitted.
“At least you’re honest.” Cam leaned around me, putting his fingers on the telescope. His arm brushed mine, and I didn’t mind. He was really blocking the wind now. “This is a Philips ToUcam Pro II.” He pointed at a silver thing that reminded me of a webcam. “It hooks to the telescope. At these settings, you should be able to get a clear image of Saturn. Press this and it will capture an image.”
“Okay.” I brushed my hair back. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be getting an image of Saturn.”
“Huh.” He paused. “Hey.”
“Hey what?”
“Go out with me.”
“Shut up.” Grinning, I leaned forward, pressing my eye to the telescope. And all I saw was pitch black. Astronomy hated me. “I don’t see anything.”
“That’s because I haven’t taken the lens off.” Cam laughed.
I jerked my elbow back. It connected with his stomach, which was equivalent to hitting a wall. “A*shole.”
Still laughing, he reached for the lens. Cam could’ve moved, because I was so in the way, but he didn’t. His entire front pushed against my back, and I stilled, closing my eyes.
“What?” he asked.
“It would’ve been easier for you to just go to the side and do that,” I pointed out.
“True.” He lowered his head so his lips were beside my ear. “But what fun would that be.”
A shiver raced across my shoulders in spite of myself. “Go have fun by yourself.”
“Well, that’s really no fun,” he said. “Try it again,”
Taking a deep breath, I pressed my eye in again and holy crap, I saw it. The planet was a little blurry, but the faint brownish hue was visible, as were the rings. “Wow.”
“You see it?”
I pulled back. “Yeah, that’s pretty cool. I’ve never really seen a planet in real life. I mean, like taken the time to do so. It’s pretty cool.”
“I think so, too.” He looked away as he caught a few strands of my hair, pulling them off of my face. “What are we supposed to be looking at?”
“Sagittarius and then the Teapot asterism and its steam, whatever—”
A big, fat cold raindrop splattered off my forehead. I jumped back, smacking off of Cam. “Oh crap.”
Another fat glob of rain hit my nose and I squeaked. My eyes met Cam’s. He swore and then grabbed my hand. We started running across the roof, our shoes slipping on the wet surface. We’d almost made it to the door when the sky ripped open and chilly rain poured, soaking us within seconds.
He let out a loud laugh as I shrieked. “Oh my God,” I yelled. “It’s so freaking cold.”
Stopping abruptly, he turned and pulled me against him. My eyes widened as I was suddenly and most unexpectedly flush against his hard chest. My head jerked up and our gazes locked. Rain streamed down on us, but in that second, I didn’t feel a thing.
He smiled.
That was his only warning.
Wrapping an arm around my waist, he dipped and lifted me off my feet, laying me over his shoulder. I shrieked again, but it was lost in his laugh.
“You were running too slow,” he yelled over the rain.
I gripped the back of his hoodie. “Put me down, you son of a—”
“Hold on!” Laughing, he took off for the door, his arm clamped across my hips, holding me in place.
A couple of times he slipped in the puddles forming, and my heart dropped. I could easily see my skull cracking wide open. Each step jolted through me, causing little grunts to escape in-between my continuous threats to do him bodily harm.
He ignored them or just laughed.
Cam skidded to a stop and threw open the door. Ducking down, he entered the dry, slightly warmer landing above the stairwell. Still laughing his head off, he gripped my hips. I was prepared to lay into him the moment he let go, but as he lowered me to my feet, my body slid down his, inch by inch. It must’ve been our wet clothing, because the friction that occurred caused the air to punch from my lungs.
His hands were still on my hips, the touch searing through my jeans. And he stared down at me, the hue of his eyes darkening into a deep, intense blue that was as consuming as it was shattering. Those perfectly formed lips of his parted and his warm breath, slightly minty
My entire front was pressed against his. Sensation exploded in various parts of my body; deep in my stomach, my muscles coiled, the tips of my breasts tightened, and my thighs tingled. My hands were pressed to his chest and I wasn’t sure how that happened. I hadn’t remembered putting them there, but they were, and his heart pounded under my palm, a steady thump that matched my own.
One hand slid up my side, leaving behind an unfamiliar, heady rush of shivers. I gasped as his fingers trailed across my cheek, brushing the wet strands of hair back behind my ear.
“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice deeper than normal.
Mouth dry, I swallowed. “So are you.”
His hand lingered, fingers splayed so that his thumb was against my cheek. He made tiny, idle circles on my skin. “I guess we’re going to have to try this another night.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, fighting the urge to close my eyes and lean into his touch.
“Maybe we should’ve checked the weather first,” Cam said, and I had to smile at that.
Then he shifted just a fraction of an inch. A slight movement that somehow brought us even closer together, hip to hip. A shudder rocked its way down my spine. The awareness of my body and his, all of it was overwhelming. I was responding to him in an instinctual way, in a manner I was wholly unaccustomed to.
My body knew what to do, what it wanted, even though my brain was firing off so many warnings I felt like Homeland Security during a Code Red.
I jerked back, breaking contact. My breath was coming in and out in short bursts as I kept backing up, hitting the wall behind me. Soaked, cold clothing and I was too hot. Burning up. My voice sounded unfamiliar when I spoke. “I think we… we should call it a night.”
Cam leaned back, resting his head against the opposite wall, legs spread slightly apart. Everything about him looked tensed and strained. “Yeah, we should.”
Neither of us moved for a full minute, and then we did, quiet as we made our way back down and out to his truck. Whatever had passed between us lingered in terse silence and by the time we arrived back at our apartment building, anxiety had built in the pit of my stomach, erasing the few moments back in the stairwell, when I’d been nothing but sensation instead of thinking.
Muscles tense, I climbed out of his truck and raced under the awning of our building. Cam was beside me, shaking the rain out of his hair. I hovered at the bottom of the stairs, fingers twisting around my keys. I needed to say something. I needed to somehow make all of this go away, because I didn’t want our friendship to be strained or for it change.
It struck me then and a horrible twisty motion occurred it my stomach.
I didn’t want to lose Cam.
Over the last month and weeks, he’d become an intricate part of my life, weaving himself into my every day that if things were to change…
But I didn’t know what to say, because I didn’t know what had happened back in the stairwell. My heart pounded at a sickening rate as he took one step and then stopped, turning to me.
“Go out with me,” he asked, running a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face.
“No,” I whispered.
And then the dimple appeared in his cheek, and I let out the breath I was holding. He started up the steps. “There’s always tomorrow.”
I followed him. “Tomorrow’s not going to change anything.”
“We’ll see.”
“There’s nothing to see. You’re wasting your time.”
“When it concerns you, it’s never a waste of my time,” he replied.
Since his back was to me, he didn’t see my smile. I relaxed. I warmed up. Things were normal again and with Cam, everything would be okay.