18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Cameron
“It’s not bad.” Nila giggles as she sips on the non-alcoholic wine. I had to basically beg for it, but thankfully, Tina agreed since she felt bad the facility didn’t have an available air mattress…
Which I’m not even mad about.
“Did you have a good day?” Nila’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “You guys were out all day.”
“It wasn’t too bad,” I admit with a shrug, finishing up the last bite of my sandwich. “The obstacle course took forever, and you’d be surprised by how many people got pretty freaking angry during it.”
“Did you? ”
I shake my head. “No, my only frustration is that I’m missing the game today. I have no way of knowing how it’s going for them either.”
“Oh right.” Nila sighs. “That sucks. Is the Wi-Fi window already over?”
I nod. “But it’s okay. I’ll catch up with everyone tomorrow. What did you do today?”
“Oh you know … just wasted the entire day on my phone. It’s like I was deprived of the internet, and when given the chance, I just got lost in it—mindlessly scrolling and checking work emails.” She gives me a lopsided smile—but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Yeah? Did you catch up with anyone?”
Like your ex-boyfriend.
Her smile fades. “No. I don’t really have a lot of close friends.”
“Why not?” I ask without thinking.
She hesitates, her eyes dropping to her glass of wine for a few long moments of silence. I almost apologize for pressing, but then she looks back up at me. “After my gran passed away, I kind of isolated myself.”
“Ah, yeah, grief can do that to a person,” I offer quietly, not wanting to push her too far.
“Yes. Grief is the worst. When she passed, it felt like a piece of my heart had been ripped out, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t fill that void. So, I threw myself into work and distanced myself from everyone else. It was easier that way, or so I thought.”
“What about your parents?”
“I don’t really have parents…” Nila answers softly, her gaze fixed on a distant point as she finishes up her meal.
I nod but keep my mouth shut, giving her the opportunity to say more if she wants to. I don’t want to pressure her into talking to me. I’m happy to just be around her, and as terrifying as that realization is...
I’m starting to be okay with these feelings.
“My mom wasn’t really a part of my life growing up,” Nila begins, letting out a sigh. “She struggled with substance abuse issues and got pregnant with me at nineteen. We never learned who my father was.”
She eyes me like I might judge her for her messy family history.
I reach out and take her hand, squeezing it. “That must’ve been tough.”
Her face softens and she doesn’t pull away from me. “It ... it was. My gran made up for it though. She raised me like her own, even after my grandpa passed away. She did her best to keep me in touch with my mom, too, but ... she was unreliable.”
“I can imagine,” I say. I can’t relate to what Nila went through, but I can empathize with her. “And how is your mom now? ”
Nila lets out a heavy sigh. “She’s clean now, but … our relationship is strained. We talk occasionally, but it’s never more than surface-level conversation. I try not to take it personally. I don’t harbor resentment toward her or anything. I just don’t think she knows how to be a mom.”
The frown on her face tugs at my heartstrings.
“I’m sorry,” I say, tracing my fingertips along the inside of her palm. Her breath catches as I do so. “I really am. You deserve the best, Nila.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate you saying that. Gran really did everything she could to give me the best life possible. I just wish she was still here. But I know you understand that better than anyone…”
“I can definitely relate. Losing my mom was one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like a piece of your past, present, and future is suddenly missing. And no matter how much time passes, that ache never truly goes away.”
Nila nods in understanding, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I miss my gran every day,” she confesses softly. “There are moments when I just want to pick up the phone and hear her voice, but then reality hits me all over again.”
“I get it,” I reply, my heart aching for her pain.
“Does it ever get easier?” she asks, gripping her necklace.
I take a deep breath, wrestling with my own pain that still lingers like a ghost in my heart. “It never truly goes away,” I say honestly. “But with time, you’ll find yourself cherishing the memories more than feeling the loss.”
“Hearing you say that gives me hope.” She squeezes my hand, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Thank you for listening, Cameron. I don’t think I’ve ever opened up this much to anyone before.”
I give her a reassuring smile. “I’m just honored you felt comfortable enough to share.”
“You make it easy,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “Something about you makes me feel like I can just be myself, even the messy parts I keep hidden from everyone else.”
A warmth spreads through my chest at her words. I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “I feel the same way, Nila. You’re pretty amazing, you know that?”
She blushes and then scoots closer to me. “It’s getting cold out here.”
I grin. “Oh? Is that what it is?”
Her cheeks flush with crimson, a hue that I can make out even under just the light of the moon.
I soak in the moment of her leaning against me, much like I did last night. By the time I woke up this morning, Nila had moved away from me, but I didn’t forget what happened.
“I brought a blanket,” I say, reaching for the lousy picnic basket they gave me to use and retrieving the heavy flannel blanket. I unfold it and flip it over us. Nila snuggles up under it and then lies back, resting her hands under her head .
“Do you like to stargaze?” I ask, still sitting up beside her.
“I don’t know.” She smiles up at me. “I’ve never done it.”
“What?” I raise my brow at her. “You’re missing out. I’m not super into astrology or anything, but I must admit that there’s something electric about getting lost in the night sky.”
“That’s incredibly romantic.” Nila giggles, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
I lie down beside her and lift my gaze to the stars, taking in the way they shine and shimmer across the black canvas of the night sky. As we lie under the blanket, the cool night air enveloping us, I point out the few constellations I know, tracing the lines connecting the stars with my finger and creating imaginary shapes and stories for her. She listens intently, her eyes never straying from the sky above.
“You really do love the stars, don’t you?” she asks.
“My mom used to love to stargaze, and before she passed away, when she knew she’d be leaving me, she always told me I could find her there. So … that’s why I love the stars so much.”
Nila reaches over and gently grabs my hand, entwining her fingers with mine under the blanket. “That’s beautiful,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the rustling leaves in the gentle night breeze.
I turn my head to look at her, the moon casting a soft glow on her face. There’s a vulnerability in her eyes that I haven’t seen before, and it tugs at something deep within me .
Without saying a word, I bring her hand to my lips and place a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
Nila’s breath hitches at the gesture, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.
My heart leaps in my chest as my gaze drops to her lips. They’re soft and plump, beckoning me to taste them once again.
“You’re not looking at the stars,” she cuts into my thoughts, her expression softening.
I hold her gaze and let out a deep breath. “Probably because you’re way more electric than the night sky.”
“You’re smooth, Cam.”
“I don’t think anyone has ever told me that.” I chuckle, reaching over and brushing a lock of her fiery red hair out of her face. “I’m not smooth.”
“You’re being very smooth right now.” Her lips part, a slow exhale slipping through her teeth.
I lean over her, the tip of my nose brushing hers. “Is it too much?”
She studies my eyes for a split second before closing hers.
Something stirs in the pit of my stomach that feels a little like butterflies.
I lean in and press my mouth to hers, electricity erupting between us.
My fingers slide through her soft hair at the nape of her neck, each strand like silk between my fingertips. Her hand brushes against my cheek, sending shivers down my spine as she parts her lips for me. Her bottom lip is warm and plump under my tongue, her scent filling my senses.
Nila lets out a light moan, which sounds like music to my ears, as I explore her. Indulge in her. This kiss feels even better than the last. It’s slow, intentional, and savory. Just like Nila…
I taste the cherry wine on her tongue as she invites me further into her mouth. I want to devour this woman in all the ways a man can. My hand trails down her side, not stopping until it’s resting on her hip.
Nila meets my intensity with equal fervor and we kiss with a fierce hunger that consumes us both. Our lips move in perfect sync, our bodies pressed together as if they were made for each other.
I never want to stop kissing this woman .
We eventually pull away, both starved for air, our chests heaving and our hearts racing. As I reluctantly lift myself from her, I take in her swollen lips, evidence of the passionate kiss that ended too soon.
She inhales, her lips curling into a smile. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” she nearly whispers.
I nod, ignoring the way my heart sinks. “I know. That’s what you’ve said, but I don’t ... I don’t know what to do, Nila. Do you not feel this between us?”
She gazes up at me. “It’s not that I don’t feel it, Cam, I do ... it’s just that—”
“You’re working with me, I know.” I rip my gaze from her, ignoring the hurt that wreaks havoc every time we have a freaking perfect moment.
I lie back beside her, placing my arms behind my head. I’ve never felt so hopeless before when it came to a crush. It hurts to be rejected, and it’s not a feeling I’m super familiar with. I mean, sure, Lacey broke up with me and that sucked, but this is so much worse for some reason.
“Cameron,” Nila says softly from beside me.
“Yeah?” I choke out, staring up at the night sky and counting the stars. It’s a great distraction, mostly because I’ll never be able to count them all.
“I do really like you,” she says. “It’s just that I’m having a hard time reconciling what could happen between us once we leave this retreat and go back to our everyday lives. But maybe we should just … enjoy the moment between us. And live in the present. Everything good ends eventually, right?”
I glance at her from my peripheral, noticing the expression on her face as she stares up at the sky alongside me. “I don’t know if all good things end, but I do know that I want to spend every possible second with you until it does.”
Nila’s eyes flicker towards me, a mixture of surprise and something more vulnerable shining in their depths.
“Really?” she whispers .
I turn to face her and reach for her hand, intertwining our fingers. “Yes, really. I don’t want to waste any more time pretending that what exists between us isn’t real.”
She nods and then slides up against me, snuggling her body into mine.
I don’t know if it’s the fact that we’re working together or if it’s her fear of getting hurt, but I’m not sure Nila realizes that what’s growing between us is special. It feels natural and it’s not put on display for the rest of the world to see.
I think it’s happening because … maybe it was meant to happen.
And as much as I want to fight for this, to convince her that this doesn’t have to end … I’m afraid that if I push too hard, she’ll pull away completely … and then I’ll lose her. Forever.
I wrap my arm around her in the same way that I did while she slept last night. She lets out a soft sigh that rocks me to my core. Everything about holding this woman feels right, but my mind draws me to the end, reminding me of how much it could hurt.
I tighten my grip around her, her breaths growing steadier and deeper than before. I gaze down at the peaceful expression on her face. I’ve never met anyone else that could fall asleep so fast…
Or maybe, just maybe, she falls asleep like this because I make her feel safe.
And that is worth more to me than anything else.