We’re on the helicopter, on our way back to LA, and when I turn to thank Camden for today, our gazes clash. Before I know what he’s doing, he tugs me toward him, our mouths colliding in the sweetest yet most intense kiss I’ve ever experienced in my life.
Our lips caress, our tongues stroke. He tastes like the beer he was drinking earlier and something uniquely Camden. I sigh into him, wishing we were alone so I could climb into his lap and burrow myself into him. I want to deepen the kiss, to feel him everywhere and get lost in him.
And then his fist tightens in my hair, and without my permission, my brain goes back there… Instantly, I jump back, smacking the back of my head on the glass.
Camden’s eyes widen. “Are you okay? I’m sorry… I shouldn’t… I should’ve asked.”
“I’m okay,” I tell him as traitorous tears fill my lids. “It’s okay.” I nod emphatically, trying to convince myself.
He doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Layles,” he begins as if he can see through me. He knows something is wrong, and I’m going to have to explain because before those memories popped up, I was immensely enjoying that kiss. Butterflies were attacking my belly, and sparks were flying behind my lids. And I knew at that moment I wanted Camden. I want to try. I don’t care that I’ve only been divorced for a short time. I’ve spent the past five years alone while David was cheating on me. He was living two lives while I was barely living, and now it’s my turn to live.
“Can we talk when we get back to your place?”
“Of course,” he says. I can feel him mentally taking a step back because he thinks I didn’t want the kiss, but in a helicopter isn’t the place to have this conversation. Hopefully, when we’re done talking, he’ll know how I feel and what I want.
“You guys coming?” Braxton asks when we walk through the door. He’s dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, a shirt taut across his chest that reads: My other shirt is at your mom’s house, showing off several tattoos up and down his arms, a pair of Vans, and a matching Vans hat. One thing I’ve noticed about all four of the guys is that while they’ve spent the past five years playing their heart out, they’ve also spent a lot of time working out.
“You checking me out, Layla?” Braxton says, lifting a playful brow.
“What? No!” I say with a laugh. “I was… well, kind of.” I shrug. “In my defense, you guys are all tattooed and buff now. Except Cam. He’s just buff.”
Braxton throws his head back with a laugh. “Buff?”
“You know…” I squeeze his forearm. “Hard and muscular.”
“Quit touching my boy,” Camden says with a mock glare as he pulls me away from Braxton and drops his arm around my waist. “If you want to feel something hard and muscular, you can touch me.”
I reach over and make a show of squeezing his bicep. “Damn, Cam, you are hard.”
“Oh jeez, please don’t stroke his ego anymore,” Declan says, entering the room. “The guy already thinks he’s God’s gift to… well, the entire human race.”
“Shut the hell up,” Camden says without any conviction in his tone.
“What? It’s the truth.” Declan shrugs. “And it doesn’t help that women fawn all over your pretty boy face.” Declan reaches out to stroke Camden’s face, but Camden smacks his hand away.
“You leaving soon?” Camden asks.
Declan laughs. “Yes, don’t worry, we’re getting out of here so you can continue your wooing in a few minutes. We’re just waiting on Gage.”
“Where are you guys going?” I ask. While Braxton is dressed all wannabe grunge, Declan’s wearing nice denim jeans, a button-down collared shirt, and clean white Nikes. He’s not wearing a hat, and his long hair is tied neatly in a bun.
“The club,” Declan says just as Gage walks out from wherever he was. His bright blue eyes are bloodshot, and when he gets closer, the scent of cannabis fills the air. Like Braxton, he’s dressed like he’s going to a skate park instead of a club with his shoulder-length curly hair down and still wet from his shower.
“Hey, you,” Gage says, pulling me out of Camden’s arms and giving me a side hug. “Glad to see you coming around again.”
“I’m glad to be back around,” I tell him, snaking my arm around his back.
“You guys joining us?” he asks.
I glance at Camden. I was hoping we could talk, but I won’t stop him if he wants to go out.
As if he can read my mind, he shakes his head. “Nah, we’re gonna stay in, order some grub, and make it a Netflix and chill kind of night,” he says, winking at me.
I laugh at the same time Declan snorts. “Yeah, okay. You gonna watch Friends?”