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She tried to kiss him again and he stepped back.
He watched her face go white and he realized she was embarrassed. That she thought he was rejecting her because he didn’t like her. Didn’t want to kiss her or touch her.
When that’s all he’d wanted to do for so long now.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and started down the hallway.
“No, Josie. It’s not like that.”
“This is embarrassing,” she said, pulling her hand away when he grabbed it. “Just…let me be embarrassed.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. Come on. You’re drunk, Josie.”
“Well, drunk was the only way I could do this, so…whatever.”
He took a deep breath. Because he understood that. Needing the fake courage to break through the walls of their friendship. Of their age difference. Of being a kind of pseudo family.
And the truth was—he might never have made the first move. He’d been telling himself for a year he was just waiting for the right time. But now she was leaving leaving. For New York City and college.
Drunk and messy may not have been his plan, okay. But this was the start of something. Something they could talk about tomorrow. Figure out—tomorrow.
She’d gone into the room and was struggling to take off her sweater.
He was not—no matter what—going to go in there and help her.
“Josie.”
“What?” she snapped and turned to face him in the doorway. “What do you want?”
“I have waited a year to tell you how I feel and I won’t be bullied into doing it when you’re drunk.”
She sucked in a breath and held it.
“How do you feel?” she whispered.
“Your five questions are up,” he said with a smile. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. When you’re sober and you feel like roadkill.”
“This isn’t funny, Cameron. I love you. I have loved you forever.”
Oh, she was crying. And this shouldn’t be sad. This was good. What was happening right now was good. But Josie crying was his kryptonite.
“Hey.” He broke his rule and came into the bedroom. He lifted his hand, reaching for her face—so he could wipe away her tears. Because this beautiful girl should not be crying. Not today. “It’s okay, Josie. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
She threw her arms around him and aimed her mouth at his, but ended up just under his nose. A little correction and she was kissing him again.
He could feel her heart pounding against his chest and he was sure she could feel the hard press of his dick against her hip.
He pulled away, and she stumbled and then overcorrected and fell sideways onto the bed, and since her hands were wrapped up in his shirt he went with her. He braced himself on an arm, so he didn’t land on her. But their faces were inches apart.
She kissed him again.
He’d lived for so long locked inside the rules he had for his feelings about Josie and now they were everywhere. Like when the chickens got out of the run over at the farm. And everyone ran around trying to catch the damn things, which seemed somehow to multiply every second they were free.
As she kissed him, his feelings were multiplying. There were so many he was overrun.
He leaned back, pulling himself away from the never-ending temptation of her.
“Josie, I’m leaving before this goes any further.”
“Sure you are,” she said with a smile and then leaned up to kiss him again. He could feel her spread her legs. And he was aware, though he was trying hard not to be aware, of the fact that her skirt had ridden up. And she was very nearly naked from the waist down.
Yeah. This is over.
He put a hand on her leg. “Josie. Stop—”
She kissed him and he felt himself melting. His hand sliding up her leg.
“Cameron?”
It was a voice out of a nightmare. It was the voice of the worst possible person to witness what was happening. It was the voice of the only man whose opinion of him mattered.
I trust you with my daughter.
Cameron scrambled up off the bed and practically flew to the far side of the room.
Max stood in the doorway.
Cameron had seen Max mad plenty of times. When he first got to the inn, he’d made a point of pissing the man off. But this…the look on his face. The rage and the disappointment.
Oh god.
And there was nothing Cameron could say. He could say he was trying to stop. He could say it wasn’t going to go any further and he was just making sure she got to her room safely. But the fact that Max had caught him lying on top of his seventeen-year-old daughter, Cameron’s hand on her leg—all while she was clearly drunk. And mostly naked…
Cameron had never been so embarrassed. Never been so angry at himself.
Josie sat up—she was saying something, probably trying to explain, but she was drunk. And it didn’t matter. And then she gagged, and out of instinct Cameron stepped forward to help her.
