His lips trail down my neck, sending shivers all over.
"I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me look at you?"
My heart hammers, a wild thing seeking his. "Yes."
So he does. And I feel it. For a long...
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C A M I L A
The first day after the party, I went to class, avoided Zeke—not Brandon—and then finished my evening at the gym, just working my shift like normal.
That was over a week ago, now.
There was no way I was tutoring with Fox at his apartment after that party. So I called and asked him to meet me at that café. We had fun. He's a cool guy. My heart needed a little more recovery time before those two amber eyes found it again, that's all.
Over a week later—a busy week—and nothing's changed. I'm not recovered, not from those amber eyes, not from that kiss.
In our little kitchen, Maddie has taken it upon herself to cook a chicken dinner. She's buzzing around our tiny kitchen, pulling mismatched pots and pans with more enthusiasm than accuracy.
I'm relegated to a spectator, seated at the two-person little inlet in our kitchen, supposedly out of the way (her words).
I'm trying to work on my Junior Management position proposal for Leo, but my thoughts, inevitably, drift to Noah.
It's been like this for a lot of days. All the days.
His hands on me, the softness of his lips on my neck, and the utter confusion that's been my constant companion since.
Is it possible to miss someone you've known for a few weeks? Turns out it is. This feeling in me is very real.
I'm sad too, which is an annoying sensation. Sadness feels too passive, too vulnerable. I'd rather be angry, but there's none of that. Not even to those balcony girls.
It would be so cool to be the kind of person who would've thrown up the middle finger to those girls and swept Noah into a show-stopping kiss regardless of the audience.
Yeah, that would've been awesome.
I spread out my sheets of paper, a financial magazine, and two of my textbooks. I'm missing one—I have no fucking idea where it went—but I don't need it for this.
Fire Base: A New Era of Fitness.
The dim overhead light casts shadows across the pages. My business proposal for Leo is...very much a draft. A rough one. The key, I figure, is to present ideas that are innovative yet feasible. Leo likes feasible.
People are starting to get into the whole health and fitness wave. Let's capitalize.
With aerobic classes that hark back to the '80s fitness craze, and martial arts-inspired workouts for the more adventurous souls, Fire Base could offer something for everyone. Women's only classes and places where girls can feel safe. We can make it work.
Leaning back, I chew on the end of my pen, considering the logistics. The gym's space could easily accommodate a few more classes—the entire basement is an empty boxing ring space. We might need to shuffle around the schedule, but it's doable.
