His lips trail feather-light kisses down the side of 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...
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————————————— C A M I L A
Ever since I met Noah Bello, I've been paying more attention to things like quotes, history and patterns. Sure, I always liked poems and the odd lyrical line, but now it's different.
I tear the paragraph from the magazine and close the pages, tossing it back over to Maddie's empty hotel bed. This scrap has all I need.
The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history. Oscar Wilde.
I wrap my arms around my knees, cocooned in my blanket as Boy Meets World plays on the hotel flat screen, muted. Tonight, I'm happy to sit with my thoughts.
My world is changed because he is made of ivory and gold. The curves of his lips rewrite history—rewrite me.
I press my cheek to my knee, a broad, girly smile splitting my face. Ugh, I'm disgusting. I can't stop smiling.
Noah and I danced for hours. We carved out a space for each other on that lit up floor, singing Creep by Radiohead, pretending to be repulsed by each other.
I had another shot of tequila. Noah had two. When our hands got a little carried away, Jed was there to remind us of where we were: his party. Noah was annoyed. It was adorable.
When Somebody's Watching Me by Rockwell came on, Fox took the hand of old Irene, a maid at the inn, and brought her to the dancefloor. She showed off her moves with him, some kind of routine they must have made up. The crowd ate it up.
After that, we got some food. Noah managed to snag a chicken salad from a table that was assured no-nuts, and I ate a few slices of pizza. We talked, we laughed, and we ogled each other.
I'm never going to forget tonight. Any of it.
When I tripped on my feet, Noah scooped me up into his arms and took me up here, telling me to drink lots of water and eat all the snacks at the minibar. I didn't want him to leave, but he said if he didn't, he never would.
He grabbed my cheeks, pressed a chaste kiss on my mouth, then left, closing the door behind him.
I showered, finger-combed my curls, then slipped on a pair of little yellow shorts—my sleep shorts—and eagerly put Noah's grey crewneck back on.
The magazine snippet is now curled in my fist. Wilde knew his stuff, I think.
I push off the blankets and pad over the carpet to grab a water bottle from the mini-bar, unscrewing the cap.
The door to our hotel room crashes open and I flinch violently, water spewing from my mouth.
Maddie and Paige's return comes with the subtlety of a marching band.
