Trust in Me

  Oh. My. God.

  “Putting this in my scrapbook. Have fun!” Grinning, Ollie bounced back into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

  Shortcake looked up at me. “Um . . .”

  I laughed loudly. “Oh God, that was different.”

  “He doesn’t normally do that?”

  “No.” I put my hand on her lower back. “Let’s get out of here before he tries to go along with us.”

  She grinned. “With Raphael?”

  “Raphael would be welcomed. Ollie, however, would not be.” I grinned as we hit the steps. “The last thing I’d want is for you to be distracted on this date.”

  “Why me?” Avery blurted out, and then squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay. Don’t answer that.”

  The small candle on the linen-covered table flickered in the space between us. We’d placed our orders with the waiter, and Avery had nervously bounced from one topic to the next as she nibbled on her bread.

  What had provoked that question had been the truth. I had told her that she didn’t have to worry about impressing me. And she had stared at me like I was a crackhead and had asked that question.

  I couldn’t even believe she had asked the question. Sometimes the woman absolutely dumbfounded me.

  The waiter arrived with our food, deterring me for about two minutes. “I’m going to answer that question.”

  She cringed. “You don’t have to.”

  I picked up my glass, eyeing her over the rim. “No, I think I do.”

  “I know it’s a stupid question to ask, but you’re gorgeous, Cam.” Her fingers clenched the silverware. “You’re nice and you’re funny. You’re smart. I’ve been turning you down for two months. You could go out with anyone, but you’re here with me.”

  A grin pulled at my lips. “Yes, I am.”

  “With the girl who’s never been out on a date before.” She looked up, meeting my gaze. “It just doesn’t seem real.”

  “Okay. I’m here with you because I want to be—because I like you. Ah—let me finish.” The look of doubt that crossed her face was obvious. “I’ve already told you. You’re different—in a good way, so get that look off your face.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “And I’ll admit, some of the times I asked you out, I knew you weren’t going to say yes. And maybe while I wasn’t always being serious when I did, I was always serious about wanting to take you out. You get that? And I like hanging out with you.” I popped a piece of steak into my mouth. “And hey, I think I’m a pretty damn good catch for your first date.”

  “Oh my God.” She laughed, crinkling the skin around her eyes. “I can’t believe you just said you were a good catch.”

  I shrugged. “I am. Now eat your chicken before I do.”

  And she did.

  More importantly, she finally relaxed enough to be enjoying herself. And wasn’t that the whole point of a date? I liked to think so.

  “So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” I asked. “Going back home to Texas?”

  She made a face. “No.”

  “You’re not going home?”

  Shortcake finished off the last of her chicken. “I’m staying here. Are you going home?”

  “I’m going home, not sure exactly when.” I didn’t like the idea of her being here alone. “You’re seriously not going home at all? It’s more than a week—nine days. You have time.”

  “My parents . . . are traveling, so I’m staying here.” Her gaze flicked away. “Do your parents do the big Thanksgiving dinner?”

  “Yeah,” I said, distracted.

  As the check arrived and we headed out into the chilly night air, I dropped an arm over her shoulder, tucking her close as we walked across the dark parking lot. She didn’t resist, instead staying pressed to my side.

  “Did you have a good dinner?” I asked once inside the truck, smacking my hands together and rubbing them.

  “Yes. And thank you for the food. I mean, dinner. Thank you.” She closed her eyes and even though it was too dark for me to see, I knew she blushed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I grinned. “Thank you for finally agreeing to let me take you out.”

  She sent me a tentative smile, and a comforting silence fell between us, which was good. My thoughts kept going back to the fact she wasn’t doing anything for Thanksgiving. It seemed wrong and lonely and about a hundred other things to spend a holiday alone. An idea formed in my head, one I doubted Avery would go for, but I had to try.

  When we got back to University Heights, we stopped in front of her door and the most awkward moment in any date was about to occur. Part of me couldn’t wait to see how she handled this.

  Shortcake turned to me, gaze fixed on my chest as she fiddled with the strap on her purse.

  “So . . .” I drew the word out, silently praying that she didn’t say good-bye.

  “Would you like to come in?” she asked, and I did an internal fist bump. “For something to drink? I have coffee or hot chocolate. I don’t have any beer or anything more—”

  “Hot chocolate would be good.” Tap water would be good enough. “Only if you have the kind with those tiny marshmallows.”

  Shortcake’s wide smile did something funny to my chest. “I do.”

  “Then lead the way, sweetheart.”

  While she headed into the kitchen, I went into the living room. She joined me on the couch with two cups of hot chocolate. She’d kicked off her boots and tucked her feet under her. I decided there was no one cuter than her. Ever.

  “Thank you.” I took one, watching the steam billow from the top. “Got a question for you.”

  “Okay.”

  Little marshmallows nudged my lips as I took a sip. “So, based on your first-date experience, would you go out on a second?”

  She smiled lightly. “Like a second in general?”

  “In general.”

  “Well, this was a very good first date. If second dates were like this, then I guess I would.”

  “Hmm.” I watched her closely. “With just anyone or . . . ?”

  Her lashes lowered. “Not with just anyone.”

  “So it would have to be someone in particular?” I asked.

  “I think it would have to be.”

  “Interesting.” When she lifted her gaze to mine, her eyes were soft and endless. “Is this someone in particular going to have to wait another two months if they ask you out?”

  Her grin formed around the rim of her mug. “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “My mood.”

  I laughed. “Get ready.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to ask you out again—not dinner, because I like to change things up. It’s to the movies.”

  She tapped a finger off her cheek. “Movies?”

  “But it’s a drive-in movie, one of the last ones around.”

  “Outside?” Excitement glimmered in her eyes.

  “Yep. Don’t worry. I’d keep you warm.”

  She shook her head, grinning. “Okay.”

  “Okay to the movies?”

  Sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth, she nodded.

  Wait. What? It would be that easy? “Seriously, it isn’t going to take me another two months?”

  She shook her head no.

  I laughed under my breath, knowing the hard part waited. “Okay. How about Wednesday?”

  “Next Wednesday?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  She settled against the couch. “The following Wednesday?”

  “Yep.”

  Her brown eyes pinched into a frown. “Wait. That’s the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.”

  “It is.”

  “Cam, aren’t you going home?”

  “I a
m.”

  “When?” she asked. “After the movies, in the middle of the night, or Thanksgiving morning?”

  “See, the drive-in movie theater is just outside of my hometown. About ten miles out.”

  Avery stared at me, her eyes widening. “I don’t understand.”

  Drinking the rest of the hot chocolate, I set it aside and then scooted over until very little space separated us. “If you go on this date with me, you’re going to have to go home with me.”

  “What?” She burst my eardrum as she sat up straight. “Go home with you?”

  To keep from laughing, I pressed my lips together and nodded.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Serious as my pierced eardrum,” I told her. “Come home with me. We’ll have fun.”

  “Go home with you—to your parents’ house? Basically for Thanksgiving?” I nodded and she smacked my arm. “Don’t be stupid, Cam.”

  “I’m not being stupid. I’m being serious. My parents won’t mind.” I thought about what I had told my father. “Actually, they’d probably be happy to see someone other than me. And my mom likes to cook way too much food. The more mouths, the better.”

  She continued to stare at me, mouth agape.

  Not looking good. “We can leave whenever you want, but obviously before Wednesday afternoon. You finishing the rest of your hot chocolate?” I took the mug when she shook her head. “And we can come back whenever.”

  Avery watched me finish it off. “I can’t go with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of a hundred obvious reasons, Cam. Your parents are going to think—”

  “They’re not going to think anything.” That was probably a lie, but she didn’t need to know that. I sighed. “Okay. Look at it this way. It’s better than you sitting home, by yourself, all week. What are you going to do? Sit around and read? And miss me, because you’re going to miss me. And then I’m going to have spend most of my time texting you and feeling bad that you’re sitting home, all alone, and can’t even eat McDonalds because they’re closed on Thanksgiving.”

  “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. It’s not a big deal. I have no problem staying here.”

  “I don’t want you sitting here alone and you’re making this into a big deal. I’m a friend asking a friend to come hang out with me over Thanksgiving break.”

  “You’re a friend who just took a friend out on a date!” she protested.

  I set the mug next to mine. “Ah, that’s a good point.”

  Picking up a pillow, she held it to her chest like a shield. “I can’t do that. Visiting family over the holidays? That’s way too—”

  “Fast?”

  “Yes.” She nodded furiously. “Way too fast.”

  “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing that we’re not seeing each other then, because yes, it would be too fast if that was the case.”

  Her head cocked to the side. “What the what?”

  I tugged the pillow away from her and slid it behind me. “You and I are two friends who went out on one date. Maybe two if you come with me. We’re not dating each other. We’re just friends who had one date. So we will be going back to my house as friends.”

  “You make no sense.”

  “I make perfect sense. We haven’t even kissed, Avery. We’re just friends.”

  Her jaw hit the couch.

  “Come home with me, Avery. I promise you it won’t be uncomfortable. My parents would be happy to have you. You will have a good time and it will be better than what you’d end up doing here. And nothing, absolutely nothing is expected from you. Okay?”

  The word no was easily forming on her lips, but she averted her gaze as she turned away, staring at the empty mugs on the coffee table. Several moments passed and then she twisted toward me, her lashes lifting. She swallowed. “Your parents really would be okay with this?”

  She wasn’t telling me no now. This was good. “I’ve brought friends home before.”

  “Girls?” When I shook my head, she clasped her hands together. “And your parents are really going to think we’re just friends?”

  “Why would I have a reason to tell them we weren’t dating if we were? If I say we’re friends, that’s what they’ll think.” I met her stare and held my breath.

  “Okay. I’ll go home with you,” she said in a rush. “This is an insane idea.”

  For a moment I couldn’t process anything beyond the fact that she had said yes. “It’s a perfect idea.” Since she was in such a wonderfully agreeable mood . . . “Let’s hug on it.”

  Her brow knitted. “What?”

  “Hug on it. Once you hug on it, you can’t go back on it.”

  Avery rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, are you serious?”

  “Very serious.”

  She grumbled as she rose onto her knees and stretched out her arms. “All right, let’s hug to seal our deal before I change—”

  My arms went around her waist and I tugged her closer. Her leg tangled between mine as I hugged her. Within seconds, her scent surrounded me. “Deal is sealed, sweetheart. Thanksgiving is at the Hamiltons’.”

  She murmured something nearly incoherent as she lifted her head. Our mouths lined up and understanding flashed across her face. “You . . .”

  I chuckled, and her lips parted. “Smooth move, huh? Got you all the way over here. I would’ve taken you on your word.”

  “You’re so wrong.” Her eyes glimmered, and anticipation rose in a rush.

  “I’m wrong in all the right ways. I have to admit something.” Lowering my head, I brushed my lips over her smooth, soft cheek, briefly closing my eyes at the sweet sensation that radiated from my lips. “I lied earlier.”

  “About what?”

  Very carefully, so that I didn’t send her screaming to the mountains, I slowly slid my hands to her lower back. “When I said you looked great? I wasn’t being completely honest.”

  “You don’t think I look great?”

  “No.” I trailed a hand up her spine, stopping just below her hair as I pressed my temple against hers. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  Her soft inhale warmed me. “Thank you.”

  Kissing her was probably pushing my luck, but she was so close and she wasn’t pulling away. I had been waiting forever to taste her lips. My heart thundered, rushing heated blood through my veins.

  Avery tensed when my lips swept over the hollow of her cheek and then her hands landed on my biceps. As I neared her lips, I could almost taste the hint of chocolate I knew would linger on them. “Avery?”

  “What?”

  My pulse pounded in several parts of my body. “You’ve never been kissed before, right?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Just so we’re clear. This isn’t a kiss.”

  Before she could speak, I swept my lips over hers. It was barely a kiss, more like a brief meet and greet, but the shock that traveled through my system blew the air out of my lungs.

  “You kissed me.” Avery’s fingers clenched my arms.

  “That wasn’t a kiss.” She shuddered as my lips brushed hers. “Remember? If we’ve kissed, then that means you going home with me could potentially mean something more serious.”

  “Oh,” she sighed. “Okay.”

  “This is also not a kiss.”

  I kissed her for real this time, tracing the pattern of her lips, learning the feel of them. They were as soft as I believed they’d be, absolutely perfect against mine. When she leaned into me, making a tiny breathy sound, lust fueled by something far deeper slammed into me.

  This was her first—I was her first kiss. No one could take that away from us. And no matter what happened a week from now or a month, we would always have this. A primal male pride wrapped itself around me.

  Closer—I needed her c
loser, to feel her body under mine. I shifted her onto her back, keeping only my mouth on hers, and her lips moved against mine. She was kissing me back, tiny little ones that were clumsy and yet entirely sexy in their artlessness.

  A sound came from deep within me and my body demanded that I sink into her, but I held myself above her, coaxing her lips open. She shuddered under me, and I shook with a need I’d never quite felt before. Her mouth opened, and I slipped inside, flicking my tongue over hers, deepening the kiss. Her back arched and when her breasts grazed my chest I had to throw the brakes on.

  Lifting my head was the hardest thing I’d ever done. It seemed to go against nature, made even more difficult when a whimper escaped her as I nipped at her lower lip.

  She was breathing heavily, like me, eyes unfocused. “Still not a kiss?”

  Sitting back, I pulled her up. My gaze roamed over her face, searching for any sign that she hadn’t enjoyed the kiss. What I found was the exact opposite. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes fevered, and her chest rose and fell rapidly.

  I reached between us, running my thumb over her lower lip as I leaned in. “No, that wasn’t a kiss.” I brushed my lips over hers, swallowing her sweet sigh. “That was a good night.”

  Sixteen

  “A girl?”

  I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom. “Yes, Mom, a girl.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “A lady?”

  “Yes.”

  “A real, live female?” she asked.

  “Opposed to a fake, dead female?”

  Mom shushed me. “You’re actually bringing a girl with you home?”

  I started to frown. “Why do you sound so shocked?”

  “You never bring a girl home, Cameron. You—hold on. Honey!” A rustling sound interrupted her and then, “Honey, Cameron is bringing a real, live girl home for Thanksgiving! Can you believe it? No. I can’t—what . . . ?”

  “Oh my God,” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

  Her voice was closer to the mouthpiece. “Your father wants to know if her name is Avery?”

  I smacked my hand over my eyes. “Yes, it is, but she’s just a friend. I mean it, Mom. She’s only a friend, so don’t act like a freak when you meet her and start planning our wedding.”