Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
That he would bring me to.
Noah lies down beside me, but I don’t open my eyes, not yet, and it’s only moments later that he begins playing with the wet strands of my hair.
The need to see him becomes too strong, and as if he senses the second I look at him, his eyes slowly lift to mine.
I blush like crazy and the man smirks, a low chuckle slipping from his swollen lips.
He sits up then, grabbing the long-forgotten clothes he brought me, and he tugs me into a sitting position, pulling the hoodie over my head. His fingers skim along my neck until he’s gathered all of my hair, and he frees it from the thick cotton.
“Should I help with these too?” he jokes, and I snag the bottoms he holds out for me.
“I mean, I don’t know. I still can’t feel my legs so…” I play along, not missing the grin he points at his feet as he slips on dry socks.
Noah climbs out of the tent to put his shoes on, and when I work my way out, zipping up the tent door, he’s coming back from the cab of his truck.
“Here.” He hands me a pair of long socks, and I pull them on over the ‘compression pants,’ which is nothing more than a fancy word for man leggings.
I slip my shoes on next and turn to face him.
His eyes flick over my body, cloaked in his clothes, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip. He yanks me to him, presses his lips to mine, but then tears them away before my hands have a chance to wrap around him.
“Come on, if I don’t get people around you—”
“If this ends with we’ll end up back in the tent … it’s crap for motivating me to move.”
Noah drops his head back, cursing into the air, and I laugh, squealing when he grabs my hand, tugging me toward camp.
When we reach the clearing, he grins at me, squeezing my hand before letting it go.
He cuts left for the ice chests and I head right for the fire, snagging a chair along the way. Cam sits at the edge of the group, circling the bonfire, so I take the empty space beside her.
She’s listening to whatever the boys around are saying, but when she glances my way, she does a double take and spins her entire body to face me. Her head cocks to one side, a single blonde brow lifting as she readies to speak, but her words freeze on her lips when a beer is lowered in front of me.
I drop my head back, looking up at Noah. “Why thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I forget to look away, and his water bottle comes up to hide the grin sneaking over his lips. He begins to walk off, and my gaze travels with him.
Cameron claws at my thighs, so I turn to her. Only then does she realize I’m swallowed by clothes that aren’t mine and my hair is a wet, soppy mess. “Bitch.” She grips the back of her chair, leaning closer. “Did you hump the humble hottie?” she hisses.
I smile, folding my legs up beneath me, and shake my head.
Her eyes narrow. “He played puppet with your puss, didn’t he?”
My head falls back, and I laugh into the air.
Her gasp has my head snapping in her direction again, and I nearly fall over when she yanks at the collar of my hoodie.
“You got a hickey from Kenickie,” she jokes, quoting Grease.
My hand flies to my neck, my fingertips pressing over the spot it must be, the memory of his lips replaying in my mind.
Peeking at Cam, I bring my beer to my lips, and my girl lifts her hands in a praising motion, holding hers out.
“Way to go, sister.”
A calming sense of happiness washes over me and I turn to my friend.
“Tell me all about the kids from your child development class.”
Cam beams, shifts as I had, and starts talking. We stay in our chairs for well over an hour, laughing and joking about everything and nothing.
A little while after that, Mason drops a chair beside us, joining in on our conversation, and of course, Brady and Chase follow as soon as they spot the three of us together.
We share some of the stories our parents have told us about their group trip overseas, since we’ve all gotten different ones, and make plans to spend Thanksgiving at the beach house with our cousin and friends.
Mason busts out the marshmallows, so Brady and I sharpen some sticks into clean points for roasting.
After eating my first one, I put on another, finding my favorite shade of blue across the bonfire.
Noah stares, his friends all around him, mine all around me.
Never taking my eyes off his, I let the treat hit the flame before bringing it to my mouth, but I don’t blow.