Chapter Fifteen. Tongue-Tied #2
Drew scoffed. “Camille, rude!” He paused dramatically, making sure to sip his beer and offer an audible aah as he swallowed.
Then, to Danny, he said, “It was winter break freshman year. My older cousin was throwing this huge house party, and he lives on Kent Island, which isn’t that far from where Camille was in Delaware. So, I told her she should come by.”
“I figured why not, and brought a few friends from high school along,” she added.
“Naturally, we got drunk,” Drew continued, “and … I don’t know. We were hanging on the sofa, talking, and it just sorta happened. It was cool.”
“Cool? It wasn’t cool. It was weird, and we immediately regretted it.”
“I didn’t regret it,” Drew clarified, blowing her a kiss. “It was a good make out. I just had … interests elsewhere.”
Cam rolled her eyes. “He was already gaga for Morgan. We knew it was a bad idea and that neither of us was interested in the other. So, that was that. And it was just a kiss—”
“—make out!”
“—make out,” she said through gritted teeth, “between friends. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Didn’t mean anything,” Danny repeated, nodding slowly. “Then why have you two kept this a secret for years? Was I the only one who didn’t know—per usual—or were Cory and Morgan kept in the dark, too?”
“We didn’t tell anyone because we didn’t see the point,” Cam replied, ignoring how hypocritical her words were. “It was a one-off thing predating me and Cory. It wasn’t worth stirring something up when it didn’t mean anything.”
“You keep saying that.” Danny sipped his beer, dark gaze steady. He set his glass down with a thud, tongue peeking out to wet his lips. “But can kissing friends really mean nothing?”
“Of course it can.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I believe that. Because if you really thought it meant nothing, you wouldn’t have kept it a secret for almost eight years.”
As she noticed those shadowy, brown eyes, and the downward purse of his lips, an idea crossed her mind. Unable to brush it off as an intrusive thought, she clutched his shirt, pulling him forward with two fistfuls of fabric. Once he was close enough, she pressed her mouth to his.
He froze for only a second before returning her kiss. Across the table, Drew cackled, egging her on. It pushed her to make a display, to be reckless, to prove a stupid point. And so, she tugged Danny closer, and slipped her tongue into his mouth.
He met her in stride, biting her lip and lowering his hands to her hips, gently easing her forward until she nearly slipped off her chair. Like they had a mind of their own, her hands skimmed his chest and shoulders so they could thread into his hair, tugging at the soft strands for purchase.
Every exhale, every press of fingertips into skin, every heartbeat felt synchronized, like they were moving as a single entity.
Fluidly, passionately, predictably, because she wasn’t surprised by the thrumming in her veins or the heat pooling in her lower belly.
She wasn’t surprised by her burning cheeks, or her fluttering eyelids, or the soft gasps that trickled from her lips.
She wasn’t even surprised by how she’d nearly moved onto Danny’s lap, his hands seconds away from lifting her onto him.
But when Drew’s laughter was overshadowed by a wolf whistle from a table over, she was snapped back to reality.
They … needed to stop. What the hell was she doing?
Ignoring her lightheadedness, she pulled away and relaxed her hold on him. As casually as she could, she returned to her seat and shook off the very dangerous thoughts bouncing around her head.
Like how kisses that tasted like beer had always been the bane of her existence.
Until that one.
Cam put on a bright smile, smoothing the fabric of his shirt as she met his eyes.
They were darker than usual, heavy, like he struggled to keep them open.
“See?” She patted his chest. “Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss. Between friends, it doesn’t have to mean anything.
And look! It’s not a secret. Drew knows. ”
Danny nodded slowly, his gaze darting to the floor. Even under the dim lights, she saw how red his cheeks were, and the sight alone had her considering climbing onto his lap and kissing him again.
“Camille,” Drew started from across the table, “now that you’ve kissed all three of us, it’s time for a definitive ranking. Who’s the best kisser, and why is it clearly me?”
Danny jumped to his feet, knocking into the table and nearly spilling the remaining drinks. “Sorry,” he said, and his voice sounded far away. Strained. “Let me, uh … check on the food. Be right back.”
Cam slumped in her seat, only turning to Drew when the kitchen doors swung shut. What the hell was she thinking with a cheeky stunt like that? Drew must’ve agreed, considering his not-so-discreet stare.
“What?” she snapped. “If you have something to say, Andrew, say it.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ve got nothing. I thought that was badass.”
Badass? Please. All she’d done was probably make one of her best friends uncomfortable, and then what?
That anxiety certainly explained why her heart was beating so fast, and why her hands were so sweaty, and why she felt seconds away from stripping out of her dress in an attempt to stave off the heat—
“I shouldn’t have done that, right?” she rushed out, knee bouncing below the table. “Kissed him to prove a point?”
“Technically, you made out. You used tongue.”
Cam sighed. “Drew—”
“He’s fine,” Drew insisted. “In fact, I’d wager he enjoyed himself.”
She swallowed, nodding. Drew was right. Everything was totally fine.
Okay. Perfect. Because this was Danny they were talking about, the same guy who’d whipped his phone out for a selfie while his plane was on fire.
He wouldn’t be upset about her stupid little kiss, and that meant she had no reason to think about it.
Finally calming down, she sipped her beer. Which was the worst thing she could’ve done, since the citrusy drink threw her right back into the memory. Into his arms, into his lips, into his orbit.
Cam slammed her glass down. “Okay,” she choked out. “Fuck the beer. It’s time for hard liquor.”
Drew laughed. “You don’t need to tell me twice!”