Chapter 26
Camila
We walk into the house, boots echoing softly in the hall.
This isn’t a typical date. There’s no dropping me off, no convo before I unlock my door, no waving goodbye as a car drives off.
Instead, we’re both here, side by side, living under the same roof, heading down the same hallway toward bedrooms that face each other like a dare.
We make small talk to fill the awkwardness. Or maybe I’m the only one who feels strange about our circumstances.
“I’m just glad I didn’t fall off Daisy Duke,” I say as we stop in front of our doors and turn to face each other.
“What are you talking about? You’re a natural.”
There’s a puff of laughter as I fidget with the bottom of my shirt—I guess it’s his shirt.
The air feels heavier, thicker, charged as we stare back at each other. I had the same feeling earlier, during the picnic. I thought Hess was going to kiss me—at least, I wanted him to. When he didn’t, the disappointment had shocked me with its sharpness, like a sting I hadn’t expected.
Normally, if I want a kiss, I go after it.
I’ve never been shy, never sat back and waited for a man to decide if he wanted me or not.
I’ve always balked at traditional dating conventions.
I’m a strong, independent woman. I split the bill at dinner.
I control the relationship. I kiss when I want, leave when I’m done.
But with Hess, it’s different. Something about the way he takes care of me, respects me, shows me how gentle a man can be, makes me want to try out the old-fashioned rules I’ve always mocked. I want him to choose me.
It’s scary giving him that much control over my heart.
His eyes catch mine and hold them.
So much softness radiates from his gaze, a paradox against the masculine strength he carries.
What if we just touch the burning stove?
Then his gaze flicks down to my lips. My stomach drops and soars at the same time. The beating of my heart is so loud I’m sure he can hear it. He takes off his cowboy hat, fluffing his hair.
This is it.
I roll my lips together, moistening them as I wait for him to make his move.
But then he says, “I had a nice time tonight,” bringing all the hammering to an abrupt halt.
My chest caves as I push a smile. “Me too.”
“We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
“Yeah, for sure.”
“Goodnight, Camila.”
“Goodnight,” I whisper as he steps inside his room and shuts the door.
The sound is final…and far too loud in the quiet hall.
I blink a few times before turning into my own room and shutting the door. Leaning back, palms flat against the wood, disappointment squeezes the air out of me. I tilt my head against the door, staring at the ceiling.
Why didn’t Hess kiss me?
Not at the picnic.
Not now.
Every negative belief I’ve formed about men comes crashing to the forefront of my mind.
They don’t mean what they say.
You can’t trust them with your heart.
In the end, they’ll just leave.
But that’s when I hear his voice—loud but muffled, like it’s coming from behind his closed bedroom door across the hall.
“I’m disappointed I didn’t kiss you too.”
My entire body locks up as my breath catches.
Did he just—?
My heart pounds so hard it drowns out everything else. I press my ear to the door, afraid I dreamed it. The silence stretches, suffocating, and I almost convince myself I’ve gone crazy. But the words echo inside me, clear as day.
I’m disappointed I didn’t kiss you too.
Without thinking, my hand clutches the knob, twists the handle, and slowly, I creak open the door. It only takes a half-second before his door swings open too.
His eyes burn into mine, dark and intent. My pulse skitters as the silence between us stretches until it feels like the whole house is holding its breath, waiting.
Then he moves.
Two long strides and he’s in front of me, pulling me to him like an oil rig worker coming home after a two-month stint away from his lady.
I gasp, clutching at his shoulders as his mouth is on mine, hungry and full of fire.
His lips are warm, firm, insistent, moving against mine like he’s been holding this back for too long.
He tilts his head, deepening the kiss as his hand slides up my spine, cradling the back of my neck. The other grips my waist, pulling me closer until every inch of me is pressed against him. I feel the heat of him, the strength, the steady pounding of his heart that matches my own.
Sure, I’ve kissed before, but never like this. Never like it mattered. Never like someone was pouring every unspoken thought, every withheld touch, every bit of want into the space where our mouths meet. It’s everything I didn’t know I was starving for.
It’s all passion until Harvey jumps on us, pushing our bodies back. I didn’t even know the dog was watching us kiss. Hess slows everything, the press of his lips gentler now. He pulls back just enough to let me breathe, though his forehead rests against mine for a long, suspended beat.
“Harvey, get down.” He pushes the dog away then takes my hand, steady and sure, and lifts it to his mouth. His lips brush the tops of my knuckles with a tenderness that nearly undoes me more than the kiss itself.
“Goodnight again,” he murmurs, voice husky, eyes lingering on mine for one more stolen second.
And then he steps back into his room, waiting for Harvey to follow before shutting the door.
I’m left stunned and breathless in the hallway. I think I just saw through time and space. That was the best kiss I’ve ever had. Maybe the best among all kisses ever kissed.
And now I’m left wondering, how can I make sure this is my future?