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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Khalid's OTW filled the cabin of Wes's truck, the bass thumping gently through the speakers as the trees of campus came into view. His hand was casually sandwiched between my thighs, his fingers warm against the denim of my jeans, as if it belonged there.
And it did.
I lean my head back against the seat, still glowing from getting thoroughly cleaned in the shower we'd shared earlier.
My body hums with contentment, my skin practically sparkling. I don't know if it's the result of him or the mental block I'd finally shattered, but whatever it is, my orgasm is intense.
As are all of them.
And there's been a hell of a lot.
"...and then Aunty Lou thought it'd be a good idea to deep-fry the turkey in the middle of the driveway," I say, waving a hand in the air as I get to the main plot of the story.
Wes turns to glance at me, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "Fuck—that don't sound too good."
"Oh, it wasn't," I say, grinning. "The fryer caught fire, the turkey exploded, and my cousin Hannah ended up crying because her sweater got singed."
Wes scoffs. "Ain't no fucking way."
"Yep," I say, my cheeks hurting from smiling so much. "And instead of putting it out with the hose like a normal person, Aunt Lou grabs the closest thing to her—my uncle's bottle of beer from his hand—and pours it on the flames."
Wes lets out a laugh, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles against my leg. "What the fuck?"
"I swear to God, she thought she was helping," I say, giggling. "By the time the fire department showed up, my mom had practically disowned her, and that's why there's this huge, massive black stain on our driveway."
He smirks at me. "And where are you during all this, huh? I'da thought you were in the middle of all that."
I give him a sly smile. "Nope. I'm eating my weight in pie while dodging questions about my dating life."
"Smart," he says, nodding sagely. "Let the others duke it out while you sit back and enjoy the show."
"Exactly," I say, grinning. "Survival of the fittest."
He shoots me a sidelong glance, his blue eyes gleaming. "But—uh—what kinda questions are we talkin'?"
I scoff. "Same old ones. Why I don't have a man, why I'm not married. Have I tried the apps? Have I tried talking to a male? Even the girls that look like a male? Plus, one of my cousins keeps trying to set me up with her weird church friend who collects Russian dolls."
"Russian dolls, huh?" Wes says, his tone laced with amusement. "I mean, I don't blame 'em for wonderin'. You're somethin' special, Cam."
"Real smooth, QB." I grin, sliding my hand around the nape of his neck as I use it to pull myself closer to him. I place a kiss on his cheek and quickly wipe off the lip gloss left on his skin. "Mmm—you smell good."
