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‘You asked him to marry you?’ His hand slips off her hip.
‘Yeah.’ Her whole torso is covered in prickling now, down the backs of her thighs too.
Regret comes over her like stepping through a waterfall. What has she done? Telling him about Todd? She’s trying to get him to open up, but scooping out her insides is a step too far.
She looks down at her feet, skin growing tacky with sweat. She can barely breathe.
Cameron makes a noise in the back of his throat and her gaze snaps to his.
Their stare is charged, but not with anything Jules can name.
A lump travels up her throat, and then she’s opening her mouth and words are pouring out to end the silence. ‘He said no, obviously. Then he broke up with me. Then I didn’t date or even approach anyone for three years. Until you.’
She curls her tongue up inside her mouth to stop any more nervous rambling. She’s gotten perilously close to revealing her feelings for him. The dots are all there to connect.
Cameron’s gaze is steady on her, but his expression remains unreadable. She can’t look away from him though, because what if he disappears the moment she does?
‘And earlier you were telling me you weren’t confident,’ Cameron finally speaks.
Breath fills her lungs. ‘It wasn’t about confidence. It was—To be honest, I wasn’t asking for the right reasons.’ The words keep spilling out. ‘Finn had been living in Tasmania for a few months, and then Mum and Dad announced they were moving back to Ireland. They were all leaving and I … I wanted something stable.’ And now her hands are getting involved, flapping around above her chest. ‘A person who was going to stay. Proposing to Todd made sense, but a proposal shouldn’t make sense, should it? I mean, it should feel right. Necessary, even. Not logical.’
‘Jules.’
Cameron’s hand fits at her waist. Jules exhales noisily and lets her hands fall to her chest. It’s the first he’s touched her since she confessed about Todd. The heat of his palm spreads calm through her body.
‘Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry he broke up with you.’
‘Thanks.’
Swallowing past the lump still in her throat, Jules waits for Cameron to take his turn, open up about Braden and whatever went on between them. Needs his honesty to make the fact she’s lying here with her insides all scooped out to have been worth it. Needs it like a balm on sunburnt skin.
Nothing.
Maybe if she asks? But as she opens her mouth, her throat closes up and static starts filling her head. What if she asks and he dismisses her?
Her body sinks into the mattress like someone’s dropped an encyclopedia on her chest, weighing her down.
At least he’s still touching her.
She blinks as her eyes start to itch. He’s not opening up.
Jules sighs, squirming on the mattress. ‘That conversation really took a turn. Can we, uh, get back to talking about sex now?’ She rolls onto her side and slides her palm up his chest. ‘Or having sex, again? Something that doesn’t require me speaking.’
Cameron smiles loosely at her, warmth returning to his expression, though it’s a mere simmer compared to how he was looking at her before this awkward conversational corner. ‘I like you speaking, though.’
‘And you know I like you speaking.’
He grins, then presses his lips against her ear. ‘I do know that.’
Jules’s body doesn’t disappoint her, shivers sliding along her skin and nipples hardening, even as the ache in her chest expands, empty still and seeking.
She pushes against his chest until he’s on his back and she’s half on top of him once more. ‘So can we move on from the conversation? I made myself sound so vanilla compared to you.’
‘Vanilla?’ Cameron’s fingers slip beneath her chin and he moves her head back so they’re staring at each other. ‘You’re talking about someone else, right? Do you remember what happened last night at the Opera House?’
She presses her thighs together. ‘Vividly.’
‘Good.’ His palm spreads out over her lower back. ‘And hey, even if you were ‘vanilla’, there isn’t anything wrong with that. Sex is about pleasure, right? And that means different things for different people.’
