Cameron Cole has a plan.
After yet another relationship ends because of certain shortcomings-literally-Cameron decides it's time to swear off dating and focus her energy into her junior year at the University of Charlotte. There's an internship up...
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Tonight had been perfect.
Too perfect. The kind of perfect that made my chest feel too full, too warm—like if I wasn't careful, I'd start spilling over.
Jetton Park stretched around us, the lake dark and endless, the surface catching the moonlight in ripples. The air was cold and crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth, but I was cocooned in nothing but warmth. Wes had backed his truck right up to the water's edge, the bed transformed into something straight out of a dream.
Fairy lights were strung overhead, twinkling softly, casting everything in a golden glow. Layers of thick blankets were spread beneath us, the flannel lining soft against my skin, and pillows had been tossed around like an afterthought.
Like we'd be staying for a while.
And maybe we would.
We sat with our backs against the cabin. Wes had one leg stretched out underneath me, my thighs thrown over his—my body half in his lap, half tucked into his side. The blankets were over our laps, snug and warm and so damn cozy.
I sighed, melting into him, breathing in the scent of him—cedar and freshness and the lingering spice of his cologne.
Our dessert sat on my lap atop the blankets, a box of rich, dark chocolate berry gâteau cake, half-eaten and entirely destroyed by our wooden forks. Wes stabbed at another bite, lifting it toward my mouth, and I let him feed me, humming as the chocolate melted on my tongue.
His eyes flicked to my lips—dark, hungry.
I swallowed, heartbeat stuttering, and grabbed my own fork, scooping up a piece before bringing it to his mouth.
His lips curled into a lazy grin before he leaned in, taking the bite straight from the fork, tongue flicking against the tines. A small smudge of chocolate clung to the corner of his mouth, and I grinned.
"Dear Lord, I cannot take you anywhere, Wesley Reed." I giggled, grabbing hold of his jaw as I lifted my thumb to swipe away the crumbs from his lips.
Wes caught my wrist before I could pull back, his lips brushing over the pad of my finger as he grinned—all gums and teeth covered in dark chocolate cake.
"Oh my God," I wheezed. "You're actually feral."
He just chuckled, wrapping both arms around me and tugging me back into his chest. "Thought that's how you like me, baby."
I turned my face away from him, looking out over the moonlit lake with a scoff. "And to think I was just about to say how perfect this night had been."
Wes stiffened slightly—just for a second—before he pulled back enough to look at me. "Yeah?"
There was something so earnest in the way he asked it, something boyish and hopeful, like he was waiting for a gold star.
