Cameron Cole has a plan.
After yet another relationship ends because of certain shortcomings-literally-Cameron decides it's time to swear off dating and focus her energy into her junior year at the University of Charlotte. There's an internship up...
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The red minivan hums steadily along the highway, the familiar Arizona landscape stretching out around us—dry desert and distant mountains.
It's funny how quickly I slip back into the rhythm of being home. Even the little things, like the way the car smells like pine-scented air freshener and the faint hint of my dad's coffee, feel comforting.
Which is needed, considering I'm already missing Wes.
I'm a weak, weak woman.
This morning had happened all too quickly.
Dinner had been an every-man-and-woman-for-themselves kind of situation when Clay came back to the house, both arms balancing multiple boxes of pizza. Clay and I were on Team Pineapple, while Rome and Wes shook their heads like we had just slaughtered a child.
We all ate on the sectional while watching replays of NFL games from the Friday before. The boys critiqued and chatted about the plays on screen while I sat cross-legged on the floor, my laptop on the industrial coffee table as I worked on some last-minute things for class.
Every now and then, I'd look up and find Wes watching me instead of the TV, and the way he still manages to make my stomach backflip just with his gaze is insane. Illegal, actually.
Lock this man up.
Rome had passed out on the sofa with a half-eaten slice of pizza on his chest, Clay had gone to pick up Scar from her late-night lab, and Wes eventually leaned over to shut my laptop and carried me into his bedroom.
We didn't fuck, we didn't take it to pound town, there was no wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am at all.
We made love.
It was slow, soft, and so goddamn beautiful.
Wes didn't rush. He didn't devour. He worshipped.
His hands weren't greedy, weren't desperate. They were steady and patient, sliding over my skin with reverence, mapping every inch like he was committing me to memory. Like he needed to.
And his eyes.
Jesus.
That stupid, stupid blue.
Stormy and endless, locked onto mine with something raw and unguarded—something that made my breath catch and my fingers tighten in his hair. He kissed me like I was the only thing in the world, like he had all the time in the universe to just be with me.
Wes whispered against my skin, soft things, beautiful things—things that made my heart stutter and my throat close up.
