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“Still so popular.” She smiled, and I resisted the urge to cover her red lips with mine. Being near her was like being near a warm pool of water. I wanted to dive right in and let her completely engulf me.
“Cammie, I—” I started to say when I heard my name being repeated through the speaker system.
“Dalton Thomas, come say a few words, please. You were our class president. Get up here! It’s your duty.”
I looked at Cammie and pulled at my hair, making my annoyance perfectly clear. “Shit, Cammie, I’m sorry. Don’t go anywhere. Promise me you won’t go anywhere,” I pleaded, not caring how desperate I sounded. This was my one chance to get on the right foot with her, and I refused to blow it.
“Go. Say good shit.” She winked as she patted my shoulder.
“Promise you won’t leave,” I demanded, refusing to move from her side until she did. I didn’t want to give a fucking speech to my old classmates. The only speech I wanted to give was to the girl currently standing in front of me, and I didn’t have anything written down.
“I won’t go anywhere,” she said, and I swear I saw a flicker of something in her eyes.
“You gotta promise me, Cammie.”
She gave me a big smile, a genuine one, and my whole world fell into place. “I promise.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said as I reluctantly walked away from her and made my way to the front of the room where Lisa Reynolds stood with a cordless microphone. She gave me a hug and whispered something inappropriate in my ear before shoving the mic into my hand.
Feeling awkward as hell, I held the mic in front of me and cleared my throat. “Uh, well, I wasn’t expecting to have to give a speech tonight, but I get it. Presidential duties have no statute of limitations, I’m told. First of all—”
I searched the room for Cammie’s face. As soon as I found her hazel eyes, I locked on them and started talking.
“I’m really sorry I’m late. Secondly, I just wanted to thank you for coming. I know that none of us had to be here. It was a choice, an option, but I’m glad you chose to come because I came here to see you too. I’ve missed you. And, uh . . .”
I stumbled on my words as Cammie’s expression softened and her smile widened. I looked away; I had to.
“That’s it. Have a good time tonight. Don’t drink and drive; I’d hate to have to arrest you.” I smirked before shoving the microphone back at Lisa and making a beeline straight back to the girl I came here for.
“Cute speech,” Cammie said in a teasing tone. Her tone had lightened, grown more comfortable in those few minutes, and I was grateful. “So you’re a cop?”
I nodded, wondering what her reaction would be. A thousand thoughts raced through my brain as I waited for her to say something else. Me being a cop might throw her, and I was well aware that she might not be okay with it.
“I can see that.” Her lips pressed together as her eyes focused somewhere over my shoulder, and I could see her mind drifting. “It suits you.”
“How so?” I asked, finding myself hoping that she would say good and complimentary things. Fuck it if I didn’t need a little ego stroking from her right about now.
“Well, you were always great with people, and you were a good leader. And you were always a stand-up guy. So it makes sense that you would want to be one of the good ones.”
I wanted to tell her that I’d chosen that career path because of her. She had just given me the perfect lead-in, but I’d be damned if I’d have this conversation with her in the middle of a crowded ballroom with cheesy old school music playing in the background. No, confessions like this needed privacy.
I stepped a little closer and leaned forward to ask, “Cammie, can we go somewhere and talk? I’d really like to tell you some things.”
She looked down at her shoes before glancing over at her best friend. Kristy wasn’t looking at either of us, and when Cammie’s eyes met mine again, she pursed her lips before saying, “Sure.”
I reached for her hand and interlaced my fingers with hers. Feeling her soft hand in mine sent spasms of want shooting through my body. I pulled her through the crowd and out the ballroom doors, ignoring the pleas of old classmates who called out, asking us to stop and chat.
Frustrated, I had no idea where to take her. Looking to the left and the right, I noticed a sign with an arrow pointing the direction toward the hotel bar and restaurant. Figuring that everyone who wanted to talk to either of us was in the ballroom or immediately in front of it, I decided to head to the restaurant. When my grip on her tightened, Cammie didn’t try to pull her hand from mine, and I read into that as if my life depended on it.
The restaurant was dark and empty. I pulled on the door to test anyway, ignoring the Closed sign that stood in front of it. Not believing my awful luck, I yanked once more, but it was locked up tight.
“I think it’s closed,” Cammie said with a laugh.
“You would have done the same thing,” I said lightly.
“Touché.”
Realizing that my only other option seemed to be the bar, I groaned to myself before moving in that direction, Cammie still in hand. Literally. Once inside the dimly lit and tiny-as-fuck place, I mentally took inventory of our options. Seeing a single high-top table in the far corner of the room, furthest from the door, I tugged Cammie in that direction. When I let go of her hand, she immediately took the seat that faced the entrance of the bar, leaving her back against a wall.
