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
Royal Pines Inn. I've never been here, and for good reason. It looms like a castle from a storybook.
The lights from the chandeliers spill out onto the arcing driveway full of limos emptying people as clowns, policemen, bunnies, superheroes, and vampires that head into the extravagant double doors.
Maddie grabs my sleeve, pulling me toward the entrance. "This is going to be epic!"
Epic is one word for it. Intimidating-as-fuck are some others.
How the hell did Jed pull this off? Dark magic?
Stepping into the lobby is like walking onto a classical movie set. The floor is marble, the furniture looks like it belongs in a museum, and I'm pretty sure that's a real Monet on the wall.
I clutch my duffel bag tighter, acutely aware of my sneakers' scuff marks.
It smells like chocolate. Why? How?
Maddie leads the way to the front desk where Fox is already there. And he's a fireman—red helmet, bare chest with suspenders holding up those fireproof pants. His chest and abs are gleaming with some kind of oil, his grin broad.
I'm going to go ahead and assume that not only is Fox funding this, but he organized it, too.
He smiles at us both, winking at a blushing, gawking Maddie. "Wait till you see the ballroom. That's where the party starts." He sorts through an envelope and hands us each a black shiny room card with 414 on it. "Fourth floor. See you at seven."
Oh, yes, right—we're staying overnight.
Good thing I handed in my macroeconomics paper yesterday.
As Maddie and I navigate through the inn, I take it all in like a starving person.
We finally reach our room, Maddie scanning her card, and we shuffle in.
Two double beds with cream bedding, a desk and chair, and a TV. A few paintings of lakes and canoes. It's nice. Really fucking nice, actually. I've never stayed somewhere like this before.
"Cam, come on," Maddie says, nodding to my duffle. "I have to straighten your hair and we need at least eight hours for all of it."
That's hilarious. I'm cackling.
"Camila! Hi!"
I spin at the voice.
Paige.
She's standing in the doorway to the bathroom, dressed in a stunning Cleopatra costume, complete with a gold headdress and intricate, glistening makeup. Her midriff, arms and legs are all exposed and shimmering with lustre dust. She looks like she stepped right out of history.
