He pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me. I froze for only a second or two and then I placed my hands on his sides. I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against his chest.
I inhaled his scent, surrounding myself in it. “I’ve missed you.”
His hand moved up my back, burying deep in my wind blown hair. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” He leaned back and lifted me a good couple of inches off my feet and then sat be back down. Sliding his hands to my cheeks, he laughed. “You feel like a little ice cube.”
“I feel hot.” And that was true. My skin was numb, but I felt his hug and I felt his hands sliding over me. I raised my lashes and our eyes met. “Your eyes are really beautiful, you know that?”
“I think that’s the shots of tequila talking,” he replied, grinning. “Come on, let’s get you inside before you freeze.”
Cam stepped back and let go of my shoulders. I was a little tipsy on my feet, and when he reached down and threaded his fingers through mine, the biggest, stupidest grin lit up my face. It was like he hadn’t asked me to leave his apartment and I hadn’t been sitting outside for God knows how long like a loser.
Might have been the tequila and beer, but I wanted to run around like a lunatic.
Luckily I didn’t attempt that, because the stairs proved to be a tricky beast. I think the depth between each step kept changing on me. Back in my too toasty apartment, Cam shut the door behind us. He still held my hand tightly in his as he turned to me. He didn’t say anything, and a nervous anticipation swelled inside me.
“You’re missing the fight,” I said again.
“So I am.” He tugged me around the couch and then down, so I was sitting beside him. Only then did he let go of my hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” I smoothed my damp palms along my jeans. “Your friends are probably wondering where you are.”
Cam leaned back against the cushion, throwing his arm along the back of the couch. “I don’t care.”
“You don’t?”
“Nope.”
I sat forward and looked over my shoulder at him. He appeared to be waiting for something. Unable to sit, I jumped up and nearly face-planted the coffee table. Would have if Cam hadn’t caught my arm.
“Maybe you should sit down, Avery.”
“I’m okay.” Wiggling free, I moved around the table carefully, just in case it decided to move on me. The nervous energy buzzed along with the alcohol. I tugged my sweater off my skin, feeling hot. “So… what did you want to do? I can, um, turn on the TV or put a movie in, but I don’t have any movies. I guess I can order one from—”
“Avery, just sit down for a little while.”
Instead of doing that, I picked up a fallen pillow and placed it on the couch. Straightening was a little difficult, but I flitted over to the moon chair. “You don’t think it’s hot in here?”
Amusement filled his blue eyes. “How much did you drink?”
“Um…” I had to really think about that. “Not much—maybe like two or three shots of tequila aaand two beers? I think.”
“Oh wow.” Cam leaned forward, his lips tipping into a grin. “When’s the last time you’ve really drank?”
“Halloween night,” I blurted.
He looked confused. “I didn’t see you drink Halloween night.”
“Not this past Halloween night.” I stood, tugging on my sleeves and my fingers brushed the bracelet. “It was… five years ago.”
“Whoa. That’s a long time.” He scooted forward and then stood. “You got water in here? Bottled?”
“In the kitchen,” I said, wetting my lips.
He disappeared and reappeared pretty quickly, handing a bottle over. “You should drink this.”
I took it, but wasn’t thirsty.
“So that made you, what? Fourteen? Fifteen?” He sat back down on the edge of the couch.
“Fourteen,” I whispered, my gaze dropping to where his hands hung between his knees.
“That’s really young to be drinking.”
Sweat dotted my forehead. Sitting the bottle down, I picked up a hair tie from the coffee table and pulled my hair up into a messy bun. “Yeah, you didn’t drink when you were fourteen?”
A little grin appeared. “I snuck a beer or two at fourteen, but I thought your parents were strict?”
I snorted as I dropped into the moon chair. “I don’t want to talk about them or drinking or Halloween.”
“Okay.”
Feeling sweaty, I tugged my sweater up. It got stuck around my head for a second and then finally, I got the itchy material off. Knocking the loose strands of hair out of my face, I glanced over at Cam. You’d think I didn’t have a tank top on underneath by the way he was staring at me, but it was more than that.
I stood once more, wanting to be far away from that conversation, because Cam was looking at me again like he was seeing more than I was showing. I thought about how he’d looked when he saw the scar on my wrist and outside minutes before.