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“You have a very active imagination,” he said.
Like I was going to tell him just how active it could be. Ruth snuck me one of her romance books once, because she didn’t trust my dad to have a frank conversation about the birds and the bees.
At fourteen, I knew the mechanics, but that book had me glued to the pages. I didn’t know stories like that existed. There was a hot priest and a forbidden affair with a younger woman stuck on a sheep farm that stretched decades.
I learned things in that book, and I promised Ruth I’d take it to my grave that she passed it along because I wasn’t entirely sure my dad wouldn’t fire her if he found out.
“Do you have anything upstairs?”
Shit.
“My purse.” I swallowed. “I, umm, must have left it when I…”
Fled the upstairs like a giant chickenshit?
“Do you want me to go get it?” he asked, eyes gleaming again. His mouth fought another smile.
“I’m glad you think this is so funny,” I hissed. “I heard something, okay? And it was loud, and there was moaning, and it was probably a ghost because this place is fucking haunted.”
“Moaning?” His brows raised. “Well, now I have to go check it out. Aren’t you curious?”
“No.”
He started past me, and my hand shot out, wrapping around his bicep. Cameron stilled, eyes meeting mine as he towered over me.
“Can we just … go? I mean, grab the purse and get out of here.” I swallowed around the stubborn lump in my throat. “You can investigate in the morning.”
His face softened, gaze lingering in a way that made me feel like I was standing naked in that doorway.
It was awful.
The muscle underneath my hand was warm and solid, and I slowly pulled my hand away.
Something flickered in his gaze.
“Yeah, I’ll be right back,” he said softly.
Once the purse was safely back in my possession, he used the flashlight on his phone to walk me to my car. The fluffy pink tops of my slippers shifted in and out of the light as we walked side by side, and I was eternally grateful that he kept his mouth shut about my attire.
“Just follow me, all right?” he said.
I slid into the driver’s seat and nodded, not at all watching from the corner of my eye as he lifted one long leg to settle his weight onto the machine parked next to me.
And I did not watch while he cranked over the engine, the muscles in his forearms tightening as his hands gripped the handles along the front.
My thighs tightened.
I looked down. “Traitors.”
Cameron pulled his bike in a tight loop, turning around to head back down the driveway. I blew out a quick breath and shifted my car into reverse.
The drive to his parents was quick, and for that, I was thankful.
I’d talk myself out of it if there was too much time to think about this.
I’d recognize the way this blurred all the firmly held lines of the past couple of days.
But the night was too much. The day that preceded it didn’t help.
