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Niall nods and begins strumming. Immediately, I recognize the song as “Free Fallin’.” He plays well, and I can tell by his content expression, he’s enjoying himself. When the song ends, everyone claps.
“Don’t applaud,” he says, shaking his head. This time he doesn’t ask for requests before he begins strumming. He staresat me, singing the words to “Brown Eyed Girl” in a deep and gravelly tone that has my toes curling in my hiking boots. He’s seducing me with this song. If we were alone in my house back in Charleston, I’d be naked by the time the last note was played and begging him to take me. Unfortunately, we’re surrounded by my crew, and it can’t happen. But his blue eyes make his wishes clear. He wants the same as I do.
But we really shouldn’t cross lines. It’ll only complicate our arrangement.
As soon as the cautionary thoughts flash through my mind, I realize it’s best to heed them. So when Niall finishes the song, I make excuses to my crew and head into my tent for the night.
Drip. Drip. Drip.I wake up and realize I’ve been dreaming about a leaky faucet. A drop of water lands on my forehead, followed by three more.
What the fuck?
I sit up and swipe the water from my face with my sleeve. I look around, but it’s too dark to see anything. Patting my hands on the floor, I search for my phone. I find it under my pillow, and when the screen lights up, I notice the time is two in the morning.
The pattering of rain clues me in on the cause of my leaky tent. Turning on the flashlight, I aim it at the tent’s roof. There’s no gaping hole, but water is coming in along the seam. And my bed isn’t the only thing that’s getting wet.
I zip my phone inside my duffel bag and put my boots on. I don’t know what I should do. There’s no room in the crew’s tent, and since Tina and Carl are in a relationship, they sleep together. My only option is to share with Niall.
Unzipping my tent, I climb out. It’s pouring, and I’m getting wetter with each passing second. I hurry over to Niall’s tent.
“Niall,” I call out. “Niall.” This time, I’m a little louder. I’m about to take matters into my own hands and let myself in when he unzips the front.
“Everything okay?” he asks, sounding half asleep.
“My tent is leaking, and I’m soaked.”
“Oh, sorry. Come on in.” He moves out of the way, and I dart inside.
I remove my boots and roll over to my knees. “Ugh.” I shiver, plucking at my wet shirt that took in the brunt of the rain. It’s sticking to my skin.
“Here.” He hands me a t-shirt. “Use this to dry your hair.”
“Th-th-thanks.” I rub the water from my hair while he rummages in his bag.
“You need to get your wet shirt off. You can wear this.” He places a Coyotes hoodie in front of me. “Do you need sweatpants?”
“N-n-no, thanks.”
“I’ll turn around and give you some privacy.”
I snort. What privacy? This tent is meant for one person.
Removing my shirt is like a wrestling match. I may have gotten the clinging material off, but I don’t think I won. I pull Niall’s sweatshirt over my head and slip my arms into the sleeves, releasing a relieved sigh. Before now, I’ve never felt anything as glorious touching my skin as Niall’s hoodie. The soft, thick material is like a full-torso hug.
“Oh, m-m-my God.” I groan. “I’m in l-l-love with this sweatshirt.”
Niall laughs. “Glad it’s helping.” I’m feeling warmer, but I can’t seem to stop shivering. “Come here.” He scoops me up, placing me across his lap, and wraps his thick arms around me.He cradles me against his solid chest, giving me heat like a furnace.
The rain drums softly against the tent’s canvas, creating a comforting rhythm that cocoons us from the outside world. Niall’s heart beating beneath my ear adds to the moment’s intimacy. I’m toasty warm and don’t know when I’ve felt so comfortable in a man’s arms. I want to stay like this indefinitely.
He reaches out, brushing a loose strand of hair from my cheek. My breath catching on my next inhale, I lean into his touch.
“Are you warm enough?” he asks, his voice soft, as if he doesn’t want to break the spell of this moment.
“Yes, this is perfect,” I whisper, tipping my head back to look at him. His eyes shine in the darkness as they lock on mine. When his face lowers toward me, my heart tries to beat right out of my chest. I freeze in place, struggling to draw in my next breath. Then his lips are on mine, and the rest of the world disappears. Everything I thought I knew about chemistry and desire is blown to bits as I’m set adrift on a sea of passion.
Time loses relevance as our kisses deepen and our tongues dance. When our lips finally part, we stare at one another, breathless and stunned.
CHAPTER 17
