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“Cameron?” Her voice was breathy, needy.
“Yes, baby?”
“Kiss me.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
And then her lips were on mine—or maybe mine were on hers, because I didn’t know who’d moved first—and the rest of the world melted away, lost in a flurry of snow as we lost ourselves in that first kiss.
Not our first, but the first of many promised.
The first that felt like it really meantsomething.
CHAPTER 22
Ella
Iwant this. I want us. I want you.
I hadn’t imagined letting the words slip so early, but it was like his proximity melted away all of my defenses, and I couldn’t imagine not giving him the same promise he’d made me.
And after two weeks, I was rewarded withthis.
The most magical kiss. The snow fell around us, little snowflakes that landed in my hair and on Cam’s eyelashes, and when we pulled away, a little out of breath, I couldn’t help but giggle.
Cameron pulled me into him, tucking my body under his arm. I wasn’t complaining, because his body heat instantly warmed me, even with the chill of the winter day.
“This is nice,” he hummed.
“Mhm,” I agreed, glad I’d come on this walk. “Sorry it took me so long to realize what I wanted.”
His eyes were full of desire as he looked back at me, but he shook his head. “You never have to apologize for deciding what you want.”
His sincerity flooded through me, and I couldn’t help the little shiver that ran through me.
“How did you guys find this place, anyway?”
“Oh.” Cam looked almost… shy? “Adam’s parents own the place. They let us use it for break.”
“They didn’t want to spend time with their son?” I grimaced.
He scratched the back of his head. “I’m not sure they ever really have. They’re so busy running their company that sometimes it feels like they forget he even exists.”
“Oh. That’s sad.”
“Mhm.” He was quiet, and I wanted to know what he was thinking, but I didn’t want to pry too much, either.
Maybe because this thing between us was still so new. We’d shared things before, but never such personal things about our lives. Our parents. It seemed like he had experience with that himself.
Further down the path—at some point, we really would need to head back to the house, especially as it got colder—I spotted a tall girl with icy blonde hair arguing with a brunette.
“I wonder what’s going on with those two,” I wondered out loud.
And then the recognition hit me. The icy blonde wasElise Andersen—one of the best figure skaters on our campus. Her dad was the coach of our hockey team, so it made sense. It was like the ice was in their blood.
The man at my side smirked. “That looks familiar.”
I stopped, staring up at him. “What?”
