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She trails her fingers down to my hand. Touches the backs of my fingers. “Especially because we don’t have a tent. All these stars….”
“Sure is nice,” I say, even though I’m not looking at the stars right now.
Neither is she.
Olivia nods. Her glossy curls are like water, rippling over the puff of folded blanket behind her head.
I smile down at her.
My eyes dance against hers.
She’s even prettier right now than back in the yurt, in the light of that lantern.
Can’t help that.
“Cole,” she says softly, “stop looking at me like that.”
At the same time she says that, her hand drifts back up my arm. It hugs my bicep. Her breath is quick and shallow. Her eyes turn darker.
“I don’t know how,” I whisper.
Her lips part. Her soft, warm fingertips trace a path to the back of my neck.
I lean down more, closing the space that I no longer want between us.
When we kiss, it’s sweeter than a thousand chocolate cookies filled with too-sugary cream filling. It’s better than looking up at a million stars or feeling the freedom of being out away from artificial lights.
It’s perfect, this kiss.
I don’t ever want it to stop.
Chapter 19
Olivia
Spending the night out in the desert is good in many ways. I got to fall asleep wrapped up nice and cozy in Cole’s arms. We kissed by the fire, snuggled close, and talked and laughed as the moon traveled up and over us, then dipped out of sight.
I got to eat delicious food, nibble sweet cookies, and see shooting stars.
I got to see the sun come up over the pure, unmarked natural vista, too. It was so beautiful. All that pink, lavender, and peach light over the vast expanse of cliffs, trees, and bristling sage bushes.
But there’s one thing a night far from civilization is absolutelyterriblefor, and that’s my finicky curls.
My hair’s still a mess, even though I just shampooed and conditioned it in the shower.
I hesitate as I peer into the bath house’s fogged mirror. I should try to pull my wire brush through my tangled, damp locks and apply some of my Zero Frizz cream.
Instead, I tug my sweatshirt over my head, zip up my cosmetics bag, and head for the exit.
Rather than trek back to the Milky Way yurt to see if Cole’s there, I walk toward the pavilion.
Everyone’s inside eating lunch, except Cole. Where is he, anyway? I haven’t seen him since I drifted off into a nap, around nine this morning.
That’s another thing that spending the night in the desert is not great for: actual sleep. I didn’t get much last night, and I’m paying for it today.
I spot Maggie and Trent at a far table and start weaving my way over to them, careful to avoid catching Skye’s eye. If I do, she might take it as an invitation to talk, and I don’t want to waste precious time explaining why I missed the morning’s activities.
I need to talk to my brother and Maggie.
