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I’d love nothing more than to crawl under the bed in mortification right now, but I’m not sure I’d be able to inch my way back out with any shred of dignity remaining.
“Um—yeah. You nailed it. Nick, Joe, and Kevin, keeping you cozy all night long.” I straighten up, moving to the end of the bed to pull the fitted sheet tight.
“Cool.” Cam’s lips tip into a smirk and I’d love to melt into the beige carpet, becoming one with the semi-plush fibers.
I wave the top sheet up in the air with a flourish and decide to fully embrace the Jo Bro sheets. Too late to do anything about it now, so might as well go with it.
“Didn’t my dad tell you about the available accommodations? This is the Jonas Brothers suite. If I dig around, I may even be able to find the matching pj’s—although I’m not sure they’ll fit you.” I take the opportunity to eye him up and down, pretending like he may have a shot at squeezing into my Jonas brothers jammies.
“It’s okay, don’t go to any trouble on my behalf,” Cam says, not missing a beat. “You’ve already done way too much.”
“You sure?” I glance over my shoulder as I fluff the pillow, smacking Joe’s grinning face. “Maybe I could find my signed T-shirt?”
Cam chuckles, waving his hand in the air. “Positive. This is more than enough.” He tips his head at the sheets.
“Lucky for you, the comforter is long gone. Gracelyn and I spilled glitter nail polish on it and then tried to use nail polish remover to get it off. Spoiler alert—acetone eats comforters. We ruined it and I’m pretty sure I cried.”
“Shame,” he says with a straight face, his marine eyes glittering. It’s the first time I’ve seen him genuinely happy since he walked into the house.
“I know. It was a vintage set. Probably could have sold it for a lot of money on eBay.”
“For sure.”
“You’ll have to make do with this quilt instead. Real sorry about that.” I pull the navy-and-white quilt up on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles.
Satisfied, I straighten up and spin around to face Cam. “Feel free to use the dresser and the closet to unpack. They should be pretty empty.” I gesture at the tall wooden dresser in the corner and Cam nods.
“Thanks.” He shoves a hand into his pocket and I rack my brain trying to come up with some roundabout way to find out if he read the World’s Most Embarrassing Email.
“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it—” I hold my hands up and shoot two finger guns at him, my voice trailing off. Somehow managing to be both cringey and awkward, all at the same time.
So much time’s passed since we’ve seen each other that I’m not sure how to act around him anymore.
I wish things between us were the same as they were back in high school, before he was Cam Crawford, pro football player. When he’d stop by my locker every morning to say hi and catch up on the latest episode ofThe Walking Dead.Or when we’d sneak into the weight roomduring lunch—sometimes Cam would lift weights and I’d eat my sandwich in peace, avoiding the smelly cafeteria scene. Back when he’d pop over to the house to see my dad after practice and we’d end up talking for hours, about school and football and all our big grown-up plans.
Plans that didn’t happen, at least not for me.
I force my legs to move, heading for the door. As I brush past Cam, he reaches out, taking gentle hold of my wrist.
“Hey—” The low rumble of his voice sends a hot bolt of electricity shooting straight through me and my breath hitches. My gaze drops to his huge hand encircling my arm, the rough pads of his fingers creating a flame burning beneath my skin. His touch familiar, but somehow different, more charged.
“Yeah? You rethinking the Jonas brothers’ shirt?” I tease, but Cam doesn’t smile at my joke this time, his face serious.
“Thank you.” He swallows hard, his throat bobbing with the effort, and it’s a monumental struggle for me to even breathe as the rough pad of his thumb tingles against my skin.
“It’s no biggie.” I shrug, my heart pounding against my rib cage.
“It is to me. It’s good to see you, Trouble.”
Blood roars in my ears as Cam gazes at me with an intense stare, sending shock waves rippling through me.
“You too, Cam.” I force the words out, my voice hoarse, like I’ve been at Coachella screaming for the last few days.
He lets go of my arm then, breaking the connection, and I somehow make myself move forward, out of the room. I head down the hall, sinking down onto the edge ofthe bed. Every inch of my body’s sparking and I’m acutely aware of the dampness between my legs.
It’s going to be a long, hot summer, sharing such close quarters with Cam Crawford.
CHAPTER 5
