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
Thursday, October 22nd starts with Maddie barging into my bedroom at 8:00 AM whining about her powdered blush cracking all over the bathroom floor.
I peel open an eye, cheek pressed into my pillow.
"I can't believe this," Maddie groans, clutching the remains of her makeup like it's the first aid kit on the Titanic.
Her voice slices through the remnants of a nightmare I'm better off forgetting.
I sit up, pushing a tangle of dark hair from my face, and swing my clothed legs over the edge of the bed. I crashed into bed last night fully clothed, exhausted from another late shift at Fire Base. At least Leo was there to see me working overtime.
"This blush was limited edition!" Maddie wails, stomping a foot. "I don't have one that compliments my tone anymore!"
I stand, stretching my limbs, and step around her to get a better look. The bathroom is a crime scene. "Looks like you got into a fight with a clown."
Maddie huffs. "Not helpful. I have to buy a new one."
The idea of Fox's birthday dinner is already making me nervous.
But my favourite person is going to be there.
Maddie kneels on the linoleum, attempting to salvage her blush with the precision of a surgeon, which she may be one day.
I go back and flop onto my bed. The impact sends a puff of stale air and dust motes swirling around me. Maybe that's my imagination. Maybe I'm sick—lovesick.
Okay, not love. But likesick. Yeah.
Despite the throbbing headache from a night of minimal sleep and maximal work, a grin tugs at my lips. I'm excited to see my favourite person.
After the hand-job disaster at Fire Base a few nights ago, I hopped up on the kitchen counter the next night and finally called him. Our conversation flowed, ping-ponging between me making fun of him, him trying to be all stern and failing.
When he talked about his father Davu from Nigeria, the helicopter crash, and the hospital, it brought up a few fucked-up memories inside me. But I listened. Then he apologized, scared he'd dumped too much on me again.
I said, "Fuck off, Bello. You saw me in the gym."
"Yes ma'am," he laughed, and we moved on.
He's a good person. All the boys are. And fuck if they're not slowly working away at my heart in different ways. I feel all... soft and squishy.
Maddie's frustrated scream sounds from in the bathroom before she stalks into the room and bellyflops onto the bed beside me.
"Spill," I demand, my voice muffled by the comforter. "How are things with Fox? We never talk anymore."
