Page 17 of Chasing Clouds

“Be with me tonight. We’re already in this together, so why not? For tonight, be mine.” He shrugs one shoulder.

Be his.

Could I be his for one night? I haven’t been on a date in so long, or out with another guy in over five years. I don’t even know if I know how to act.

“What do we tell people?” I ask him.

“Nothing really. I think less is more. It’s not anyone’s business, and the more details we give, the harder it will be to remember them all.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right, but we will get asked.”

“Okay, we met late last summer after your semester started. I was visiting my family and went out with Nate and his friends. You and I instantly hit it off and secretly kept in touch.”

Three sentences . . . three sentences of a lie that now has to give proof for my erratic behavior . . . three sentences that do sound believable.

“Okay, simple enough. I like that.”

“It’s going to be fine.” He gives me a smile and my gaze lowers to his mouth. There’s a small scar on the top left side of his upper lip, and I decide I like it.

“They’re going to clink the glasses and expect us to kiss.”

“So I’ll let you kiss me.” He laughs. My eyes dart back to his, and they’re filled with amusement.

“It has to look real.” I laugh with him and tug on the back of his shirt.

“Do you think it didn’t earlier?” He cocks an eyebrow as his thumb slides across my jaw and brushes across my bottom lip.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, watching those green eyes sparkle and then become heated.

His hand on my lower back presses and my body pushes more into his, the buckle on his belt feeling like the only thing preventing complete contact of his body with mine. Both his stomach and back muscles are flat and hard; he feels amazing, and I can only imagine he looks amazing too.

“Come here, princess.” His voice pulls me from my thoughts.

Butterflies take flight. He’s going to kiss me, here, in the library. I know we kissed earlier, but that was for show. This is here and now, with no one watching, and it feels real, like this is going to be our first kiss.

Leaning down, his nose runs alongside mine, and he drops a kiss on the corner of my mouth. Earlier I was so caught up in the moment and what was happening, I didn’t take the time to memorize the details, but I sure am now. His lips are full and soft, and my heart rate picks up as I start breathing faster. He’s so close. He smells so good, and I bet he’ll taste exquisite.

“This has officially become my favorite first date ever.” He pauses, and I feel the side of his mouth tip up as the day-old stubble on his cheek brushes against my skin. “Kissing at the beginning instead of the end, mmm.” The sound rumbles from his chest and into mine. I like the way it feels more than I should, and deciding I don’t want to wait anymore, I push up on my toes to seal my mouth to his.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Reid today, it’s that he doesn’t do anything halfway. He’s either all in or all out, and with this kiss, he’s all in.

When he licks across my bottom lip, I gladly open to him and allow his warmth to sink into me. Part of me thinks I should feel bad about wanting this kiss so much—after all, I’m supposed to be married to someone else—but I don’t. I want this kiss. No, I need this kiss, and I can tell he does too as his hand on my lower back moves to cradle the other side of my face. He holds my head, angling and moving me to just where he wants me, and I’m more than happy to comply. Over and over his tongue twists with mine as his mouth, lips, and breath take what they want. Every part of me is tingling, and I’m in complete euphoria as I surrender to this moment and just feel . . . feel him, his fingers, his heart beating against his chest, and how he’s wordlessly promising me he’s got this and everything is going to be okay.

Patrick never kissed me like this. He was soft, tentative, and now I’m wondering if he just didn’t want to or wasn’t into it, because this kiss is the kind stories are written about, the kind that will ruin me for anyone else.

The door opens and slams against the wall.

“Camille!” my father bellows.

Reid and I jump apart and my father stops dead in his tracks. Both of us are staring at him as confusion slips across his face.

“Wait. I thought . . .” He trails off, his eyes bouncing between the two of us and narrowing in on Reid.

“You thought what?” he asks, moving to stand closer to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. Mine slips around his waist. I roll my lips in between my teeth and inwardly smile at how full and swollen they feel.

Grandfather walks in, stands next to my father, and grins at us.

“Nothing. Camille, I need to speak to you.” He again glances between the two of us. “In private,” he sneers.