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
It took three days to convince Camila Delgado to move in with me. I still hold steady that it wasn't me she had a problem with, but the assistance. The help. The fact that she pretty much got backed into a corner. Again.
That first day—morning, I should say—she was hungover along with Fox, both of which had fallen asleep on Maddie's carpet holding each other's feet, snoring, drooling, and moaning in the night.
It was fucked.
Anyway, they took the day, showered, and neither of them said a thing. Fox eventually left, staring at the ground, and Cam went dead in the eyes in front of the TV in the living room. I stayed with her for a while, just until she got a little strength back.
The next day, Cam went and wrote her first final exam. It was the 9th of December. She nailed it—her words. That was when I saw her coming back to herself. Again.
Anger came next, that simmering, quiet rage she has, directed entirely at Maddie. And yeah, I hate the blonde for what she did, but in a twisted way, I'm thankful. Cam can recover from Maddie, and from losing her rental, but me? I couldn't recover from not loving her.
I know that's not how time works—Jed's reminded me—but I don't care. I'm grateful.
A few days later, Cam gave in and agreed to move in. I think it was seeing Charlie and Fox interact that did it for her. That dog loves Fox, and my god, Fox adores that old Jack Russel terrier.
The following week was a blur of boxes, dust, and fucking arguments about money. Holy shit, did we argue. I never realized how stubborn my girl was until we had to talk about finances.
I need to support myself, Noah! You've already done too much! I'm not a freeloader!
I'm not trying to 1950s housewife you!
Let me pay more rent then!
You're paying the same as me and Jed!
I should be paying more!
That doesn't make any fucking sense, Camila!
My job allows it! I'm saving up!
We didn't get anywhere until Jed yelled at us that he didn't have enough sage in the world to cleanse our insane energy.
We weren't diffused that easily, though, so I threw Cam over my shoulder and as she squealed, I stalked upstairs to my loft, threw her down on my bed, locked the door, and made the most of our 'insane energy.'
And holy fuck, did she ever match me. Her chest was covered in hickeys the next day and my back was laced with scratches.
Just the memory threatens to embarrass me, and right now, I'm sitting in the boxed-up, dusty living room of her rental, watching Jed and Mick argue over how to pack the last of her things.
