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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NOAH
McDonald's on a Friday evening isn't a mistake, per se, but I'd rather not be here. The dining room scene is a mix of families and the occasional group of friends, much like us—Fox, Jed, and me. At least it's warm. It's snowing outside again, and I hate the cold.
Fox got his usual feast, 20 chicken nuggets with sweet and sour sauce spread out before him. Jed chose a Filet-O-Fish, minus the cheese, extra tartar, and a side of apple slices. It's a combination that made even the staff pause. I unpacked my homemade garden salad with shredded chicken from its Tupperware and haven't touched it.
The distant cacophony from the PlayPlace is a blend of glee and laughs that somehow feels comforting. Amidst this, though, my leg bounces under the table, a metronome to the countdown to 7:30 PM—the time when I'll escape back home and closer to Cam's gravity.
She's coming over to our place after work. At 8:00 PM. We'll be there to meet her.
"Dancing and drinks," Fox beams, "at Molly's downtown. It's Maddie's favourite. I've never been, though. She's with that friend, Lizabeth or something."
"Liz," Jed says.
"Yeah, that one. Anyway, as long as she's having fun."
Jed then reveals his own evening agenda: a horror movie marathon with his very new boyfriend Mitch, a plan that's ambitious given Jed's culinary track record, particularly his last disaster involving stove-top popcorn. Whatever—I won't be there to care.
Fox pops another nugget into his mouth and points at me across the table. "Man, you're jittery as hell. Is Cam going to turn into a pumpkin if you're late?"
Jed arranges his apple slices like a flower. "Maybe he's eager, Fox."
Their jesting is both a balm and a barb, a reminder of their support and my own tangled nerves. As much as I want to retort with something clever, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts about Cam—about us—and how tonight might unfold.
Fox says, "Paige called me she said you're dodging her calls. She tried to pay me to tell you she's sorry or whatever."
My teeth grit. "Fox, I know she's your cousin, but I want nothing to do—"
"Good," he cuts me off.
I nod. That's that.
My mind feels back to my girl.
Do I tell her I love her? Do I wait? Do I never tell her? What if she rejects me? What if—
"Noah," Fox laughs. "Holy shit. Take a damn breath, man."
"He's thinking of Camila," says Jed. "He's worried."
"She's not a maneater," says Fox.
"Unless she is," Jed says very seriously, warning me with a look. Before he can cover the lore of maneaters, I raise a hand.
