Trust in Me

I was her first kiss.

Pride swelled in my chest and other parts of my body were also following the same reaction, which wasn’t helping things. After our date, I’d spent most the night with my hand fisted around my cock. And pretty much every night thereafter. Being around her didn’t make it easier, but I couldn’t stay away from her. Not kissing her again was driving me mad.

Once it quieted a bit in the living room, I peeked my head out from underneath the pillow. I really hoped that whatever Ollie was doing out there with whoever was not on the couch.

I had to sit on that thing.

Rolling onto my side, I grabbed my phone. I told myself not to, because I would see her tomorrow when we left for my house, but I was a loser, so therefore I couldn’t stop myself and I texted her.

Hey.

The response was almost immediate. Hey you.

My lips curled up. What u doing?

Reading your text. There was a pause and another text came through. Also reading ahead in history.

I laughed. Nerd.

Jerk.

Easing onto my back, I sent her another text. Admit it.

Admit what?

U r excited abt tmrow.

About a minute passed, and I sat up, frowning. Finally a response came through. I am.

Took u that long? I sent back. Fo shame.

LOL. Sorry. Figured I’d make you sweat.

Shaking my head, I swung my legs off the bed and went to the bedroom door, peeking outside. The living room was dark, but not empty. Two forms were entangled on a makeshift bed made out of pillows and blankets. Grimacing, I crept around them.

I sent her one more text. Knock. Knock.

Goosebumps spread across my bare chest as I slipped out into the hallway. My phone dinged and I glanced down. Sigh. Who’s there?

Grinning like an idiot, I hurried to her door, rapping my knuckles.

About ten seconds later, the door swung open. Avery stood there, her iPhone clutched in her right hand. Her mouth opened, then she snapped it shut and pursed her lips.

I leaned through her doorway, smiling shamelessly as her gaze drifted over my abs and then my chest, getting hung up on the sun tattoo. “Hey, girl, hey . . .”

She burst into laughter as she took a step back. “You are . . . oh my God.”

“I’m a sexy beast, I know. Anyway, there’s something else I want you to admit.”

Pulling her cardigan around her, she stared at me as she pressed her sock-covered feet together. “Aren’t you cold?”

“I’m too hot to be cold.”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you want me to admit?”

I flashed a quick grin and then shot forward, moving quickly. Her chest rose sharply and her lips parted, as if she anticipated a kiss. As I neared, I saw her lashes flutter closed, and hunger surged through me.

But I didn’t kiss her lips. Damn, I wanted to more than anything at that moment, but I knew I had to take things slow with my little Shortcake.

So I kissed the tip of her nose.

Avery jerked back as her eyes flew open and a wide smile broke out across her face. A soft, light giggle erupted from her, and I knew I’d do a ton of terrible things to hear that sound again.

“Admit it,” I said, my voice husky. “You enjoyed that.”

Eyes dancing and cheeks flushed, she tilted her head to the side. “I did.”

It was only after I was back in my own bed that I realized that the bracelet she always wore around her left wrist had been absent.

The giggling girl from last night was nowhere to be found today. For the last hour of our trip, she had been nibbling on her fingernail for so long I wondered how any of it was left.

“Are you sure your parents are okay with this?” she asked for the hundredth time, and I nodded for the hundredth time. “And you did actually call them and ask, right?”

Casting a sideways look at her, I couldn’t stop myself from teasing her. “No.”

“Cam!” she shrieked.

I laughed. “I’m kidding. Chill out, Avery. I told them the day after you said you’d go. They know you’re coming and they’re excited to meet you.”

She glared at me as she started chewing on her thumbnail again. “That wasn’t funny.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Jerk,” she mumbled.

“Nerd.”

One side of her lips curved up. “Bitch-ass.”

“Oh.” I whistled. “Them be fighting words. Keep it up and I’ll turn this truck around.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“You’d be distraught and in tears.” I reached over, pulling her hand away from her mouth. “Stop doing that.”

“Sorry. It’s a bad habit.”

“It is.” I threaded my fingers through hers and brought our joined hands down to my thigh, holding it there.

To distract her, I started talking about the recital my sister was having tonight. Teresa wouldn’t be home until early tomorrow morning. The change of subject seemed to work. Truth be told, as we hit the narrow streets of my hometown, I was nervous.