Camila a receptionist on a unit her father built for "special victims" is best friends with Detective Shawn Mendes of the Toronto Special Victims Unit. They've been inseparable since they met at a college party a few years ago. Both are adventure...
"What are you wearing?" I ask curiously as I take in the sight in front of me, trying to keep a straight face when on the inside my stomach is doing somersaults and fluttering all at the same time. My eyes widening slightly; my nether region already becoming tight and uncomfortable.
"What does it look like I'm wearing?" She smirks playfully.
Standing in front of me, Camila is dressed in one of my plaid, flannel shirts from our Banff trip, and nothing else. It's buttoned to the very top button and it hits her just above the knees, exposing her creamy, toned legs to me. Her beautiful brunette locks are curled to perfection and her make-up is light, sexy, how I like it...although she looks just as beautiful with no make-up at all.
As I walk closer to her, she slowly backs away, moving towards the back of the house. She doesn't say anymore as I find myself following her without even realizing it, her eyes captivating me and drawing me to her. I reach out to touch her when she goes to open the door to the backyard but she slaps my hand away.
"No sir...you don't get to touch me yet!" She snaps, but the look in her eyes tells me this is all part of her plan; a wicked smile crosses both our faces.
Like a duckling following it's mom into the unknown, I follow her to just under one of the biggest trees in her backyard. My eyes never leaving her, even though she's turned around, I can't help but admire her back in the same way I do her front; my shirt fitting her in all the right ways..my resolve slipping every second.
"Wow!" I exclaim again as now there's more than just Camila to look at.
"Do you like it?" She asks.
"It's amazing! How did you? How did you..." I say, stunned, not able to form a coherent sentence.
"Speak Shawn! I'm not getting any younger." She finally laughs and I'm pulled out of my disbelief as she motions for me to sit down, my heart beating faster than it was before. How did she have time to do this? I thought she was mad at me?
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Inside our little tipi was wine, chocolate, pizza and a box with my name on it. The twinkling lights giving my girl an angelic glow as she lowers herself to sit across from me.
I thought she was mad at me I think to myself. Although apparently I said it out loud as Camila looks at me and says "I was mad at you...but I kicked you out because I needed to get this right. You making me mad and me asking you to leave made it that much easier." Her face a mix of understanding, frustration and happiness.
As we're eating the pizza, drinking wine and having quiet conversation, I can't help but take her all in. We've been through so much together, more than most people our age will ever experience and definitely more than most couples would face. I feel unworthy of her forgiveness in a way, but this night has been the best post-fight time I've ever had.
