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I nod, silent. Scared to tell him who the shirt belonged to. It says varsity football team, so he’s going to make assumptions.
“Knox’s?”
I shake my head, my gaze never straying from his. Trying to telepath who this shirt belonged to without having to say it out loud.
“Then who?” Something must dawn on him because he starts nodding. “Ahh. I can guess.”
My smile is sheepish. “It belonged to my ex-boyfriend. I stole it from him. He played football.”
“With Knox?” He sounds…pissed off?
“Yeah, but he was in my grade.”
“Huh.” Cam reaches for the gearshift, his foot tapping the gas, making the engine rev. He slides the car into reverse, and in seconds, we’re peeling out of the parking space, roaring through the lot and out onto the street.
I’m literally resting my hand against my chest, trying to breathe through the palpitations his reckless driving is giving me. “What’s your problem?”
He speeds through a yellow light, ignoring the car honking at him as we pass it by. “Nothing.”
His jaw is clenched, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. He’s intense. A little scary.
A lot sexy.
He hits a button, both windows sliding down and the wind whips through his hair. He taps another button and music fills the car. Something loud and vaguely obnoxious at first, though after a while, I realize I’m enjoying it.
Enjoying the moment with the wind in our hair and the music playing so loudly that I can’t think about anything else. All I can do is focus on Cam. The way his biceps bulge against the sleeves of his T-shirt. It stretches across his broad chest and I’m filled with the urge to touch him. After having free rein to let my hands roam all over him last night, now it’s all I want to do.
My gaze drops and I take in his strong thighs. How they’re covered lightly with hair. How I wish I had the right to reach out and settle my hand on his leg and claim him. Like he’s mine.
As if he belongs to me.
We end up at a park on the opposite side of town, Cam pulling into a spot that’s right next to a massive lake, his car lights shining upon the water before he turns them off, the entire area shrouded in darkness. I can hear bugs chirping and frogs croaking, despite the time of year, and I glance over at Cam to find he’s already watching me, his narrowed gaze making me shrink back in my chair a little bit.
“What’s wrong?” I know I already asked what his problem is, but he’s starting to…scare me.
But only a little bit.
He blows out a harsh breath, running his fingers through his hair as he stares out the driver’s side window. I drink in his profile, my gaze skimming over his features. The sharp angle of his nose. The high curve of his cheeks. The strong jut of his chin. He has a finely-made face and I’m tempted to crawl into his lap and run my mouth all over it. Map his skin with my lips. Taste him everywhere I can.
I do none of that. Instead, I grip my hands together in my lap and wait for him to say something.
Anything.
“I hate thinking about you with someone else,” he finally says, his head still averted so I can’t look into his eyes.
My mouth drops open, only for me to immediately snap it shut. “Are you serious?”
He looks at me, his expression pure misery. “Yeah. You’re still wearing his shirt.”
“It was in high school,” I reiterate. “He doesn’t matter to me.”
Once upon a time, Travis did, but not anymore. I haven’t even really thought about him in years. For God’s sake, I even thought I got the T-shirt from Knox.
Cam turns his head away from me, yet again, the breeze filtering through his hair, making it flop over his forehead, and without thought, I do exactly what I’ve been wanting to do since I got into this car.
Reaching out, I touch his hair, sliding my fingers through the soft strands that are at the back of his neck. He needs a haircut. His hair isn’t usually this unruly, but God, it’s so soft. I don’t want to quit touching him.
He closes his eyes yet doesn’t say a word, and I wonder if he’s enjoying it.
