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“Want to go outside for a minute?” He tips his head toward the deck.
“Sure.”
I shut the light off, then open the door as slowly as humanly possible. Still, the old wood creaks, the sound loud in the quiet house.
“Shit,” I mutter, making a mental note to WD-40 every door in the whole damn house first thing tomorrow.
Pushing through the screen door, Cam follows behind me, holding the metal handle until the door closes with a whisper.
I sink down onto the deck, kicking my feet out in front of me. Cam joins me, our shoulders rubbing and sending sparks flying through me.
“Nice night.” He tips his face up to the inky sky, glittering with stars.
“Yeah. Not so humid tonight.”
His fingers slide along the outside of my thigh and the knots in my stomach loosen. This afternoon wasn’t a dream.
Inching closer to him, our bodies touch and I swear electricity sparks between us, sending hot pulses straight to my core. I’ve never wanted to be with someone more than I want to be with Cam and it takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to crawl onto his lap and straddle him, grind against his hard cock until my pussy convulses and I come in a rush of ecstasy.
He links his pinky with mine. “Sloane—” His voice is quiet, his tone serious, and I’m nervous all over again. “I like you. A lot. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time.”
My breath hitches in my throat, heart pounding. “I like you too. Obviously. You read the email.”
His lips quirk into a smile. “I did. Nicest email I’ve ever gotten.”
I blush, happy that it’s dark and he can’t see my cheeks, which I’m certain are bright red.
“But I can’t make any promises to you. So if you want to stop before we take things further, I get it. My entire future’s up in the air. I might not make it back to the pros, I may not have a job at all. I can’t guarantee you anything right now.” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Tension creeps back into his face, a V creasing between his brows.
“I know.”
Cam runs his thumb along my jawline, moonlight bathing him in a pale light. He’s so raw, so vulnerable right now, my heart aches for him as we stare into each other’s eyes.
“I liked you before you were a professional football player, you know.”
He sucks in a breath, licking his lips, and the deep buzz of the cicadas hum off in the distance. Leaning in, Cam touches his nose to mine and takes a deep inhale. His exhale’s warm on my lips and he dips in further, his mouth hovering inches from mine. Another inhale, exhale, then our lips touch and my eyes flutter closed as I soak in this perfect moment, a moment I’ve longed for.
A moment I thought would only ever exist in my dreams.
But here we are, together, and I don’t want to move off this deck for fear of shattering this intense feeling shimmering in the air between us.
A dog barks off in the distance and a light flickers frommy dad’s room. Reluctantly, I pull away like a high schooler afraid of getting busted with her date.
“We should probably go inside. Bugs.” I swat at an invisible insect buzzing around me.
“Yeah.” Cam stands, extending his hand to me and helping me up. I dust off my butt and shake out my legs, my thoughts as jumbled and confused as ever.
CHAPTER 22
CAM
As much as I want to be with Sloane, I need to focus on football. I spend as much time in the gym as possible, working on strength, mobility, and flexibility. I practice in the afternoons with Coach and the high school team. He runs me hard—if not harder—than any of my coaches in the pros, not letting up even one iota. I’m hot, sore, and exhausted at the end of every practice, but I’m loving every second of it.
Then school’s out for the summer and we transition to two-a-days, leaving me even less alone time with Sloane. The practice schedule’s rigorous, plus Coach is home during the day, giving us fewer opportunities to escape his watchful eye.
Our only saving grace is his early bedtime and the fact that his room’s on the other side of the house. Nighttime is our chance to be together without Coach staring us down.
I’m lying in bed, wide-awake in only my boxers, the ceiling fan swirling in lazy circles.
