‘Suit yourself.’ Cam climbed in, and soon – and most regrettably – we were lying in bed together, back-to-back. I could hear his breathing, and I was sure he could hear mine too. Fucking hell! I could not believe this was happening.
‘Cam,’ I said, and turned around.
‘Yes?’ He also turned to face me.
I lifted my finger and then very pointedly drew a long line on the bed. ‘Your side, my side. Do not cross it.’ I tapped the line firmly so there was zero chance of confusion.
‘Got it!’ He smiled, though, which led me to believe he was not taking this as seriously as I wanted him to.
‘It’s not a joke. There will be serious consequences for crossing that line.’
‘Oh yeah, what consequences?’ He was challenging me now.
‘Cross it and you’ll find out.’
He raised his brows and then started to stretch his hand out.
‘Seriously? That is so childish.’
His hand stopped, mere centimetres from the line, and we both looked down at it.
‘You’re pushing your luck,’ I warned him.
He sighed – deep, dramatic, long-suffering – and rolled back over. I rolled too, and we both lay there, stiff and uncomfortable, drenched in what could only be described as a bone-crushingly awkward silence. It stretched on for what felt like hours. Then, as if we had invisible earpieces coordinating us, we both let out a long, exasperated sigh and flopped onto our backs at the exact same moment. The shock of it made us both turn our heads and stare at each other. Cam’s lips twitched into a smile.
‘We’re still so in tune,’ he said.
‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘Remember when we used to do drills together and we could almost read each other’s minds?’
‘That’s an exaggeration,’ I said. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and quickly looked down. Cam’s hand had officially crossed the line, so I brought mine down on top of it.Hard. The sound of the slap was followed by another one of his chuckles.
‘So that’s the big punishment for crossing the line, a literal slap on the wrist?’
‘The slap is just a warning.’
‘And what comes after the slap?’ he asked.
‘Well, it depends on how far over the line you go, and with what body part.’
‘What body part?’ He repeated it playfully, seductively almost.
‘Get your head out of the gutter, Cam. That’s not what I meant, and also, for the record, you’re not that big.’
‘That’s not what you said last time you saw it.’
‘Cam!’ I grabbed the pillow behind me and swung it, smacking him in the chest.
Without missing a beat, he somehow managed to grab the pillow and swing it right back. I intercepted it before it hit me and tossed it on the floor. Cam sat up and looked down at it.
‘So violent,’ he said, before flopping back down.
‘What can I say? You really bring it out in me.’
‘I’m sure you’re like that with everyone.’
‘You know, it’s funny, I’m not. Out of all the people in my life – not that you’re in my life – you are the only one I fantasise about inflicting grievous bodily harm upon.’
