Page 68 of Hot Summer

As if there was any question about it.

Cas put her hand on Ada’s waist, stepping into her so their hips very nearly brushed.

“No.”

The producers played about ten songs before they switched the music off and sent a message to Ronan, one of the new boys, that the lovers from the losing group were officially allowed to come down off their perch on the balcony and join the fun.

With the UV lights switched off, they looked absurd, like club rats blinking in the sunlight of the early morning and realizing they smelled like vodka, that their hair was sticky and they had eyeliner running down their cheeks.

They were all covered in neon paint—the designs, at first intricate, and then just lines scraped across one another’s skin as they twirled by. Cas’s hair had been down, but she’d borrowed a hair bauble off Tia and thrown her hair up into a ponytail at song five to stop it sticking to her neck in the heat of the evening.

Now, she had paint and glitter and stickers across her chest and along her throat to show for it.

Ada bounced over from the kitchen, her hair swinging behind her. She had two water bottles in her hand and thrust one at Cas before unscrewing the lid.

“It’s a thousand degrees out tonight, I swear.” She dumped a handful of water into her palm and slapped it against her neck, cooling her overheated skin. It was a simple gesture, a reasonable one given how warm it was, but the water on her skin, the droplets traveling down her chest...

“Yeah.” Cas’s throat was the Sahara. “I don’t know what’s going on tonight.”

“Must be the dancing,” Ada said. For someone who was actively killing the woman in front of her, she seemed remarkably unbothered.

“Probably,” Cas agreed.

Ada poured more water into her palm and scrubbed it across the back of her neck, moaning softly at the sensation. Cas felt that sound across every single inch of her.

“Do you want to go sit somewhere?” Ada rubbed the last drops of water on her hand up her arm, smearing the paint. “I feel like we have a few things to talk about.”

“Mmm, mm-hmm.” Words could not be trusted right now, so animalistic grunts were apparently going to be her response of choice.

Ada grinned and took Cas’s hand, winding their fingers together. It seemed so easy for her, the way she just did it. Didn’t hesitate, didn’t overthink it, didn’t stop herself at the last possible second. It was simple, giving herself over to what she felt, to just doing what she wanted to without a second thought for everything that would come after.

She gave Cas’s hand a little tug and Cas tripped along behind her, ready to follow her off the edge of a cliff.

Ada led them down to the daybed. They weren’t completely invisible should anyone really choose to look, but it gave the illusion of privacy all the same.

Ada let go of Cas’s hand as they approached the bed, immediately jumping onto the mattress and sliding so that her back was pressed up against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of her.

Cas swallowed and sat on the edge of the bed, her feet touching the grass. “So...”

“So,” Ada agreed. She was smiling, grinning even, and Cas was knotting her fingers together.

Cas tried her best to frown, but her own lips were betraying her, already curling up at the corners. “What are you smiling about?”

It was really inconvenient that seeing Ada made it almost impossible for Cas not to smile, especially when she was trying to be serious.

“You,” Ada admitted, her smile widening. “You seem nervous.”

Cas’s frown deepened. All furrowed brow and everything. She was really putting on a show here, but she didn’t think it was paying off one bit.

“Of course I’m nervous.”

Ada raised an eyebrow. It was one of Cas’s favorite expressions of hers because she could never quite get it right. Her brow was always more of a wrinkle than a raise and it was adorable. “Why?”

“I—” It was the simplest thing in the world to say: I kissed you. It was something she’d done millions of times, but this kiss had felt...

Significant.

And if she was willing to admit it to herself—and, let’s be honest, she just barely was—the very thought of that terrified her. It was easier when you didn’t really care about the people you were kissing, when they didn’t have the power to affect you. To hurt you.

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