Page 83 of The Facade

“A little.” Her gaze flickered up to mine. “It’s been a while since I’ve performed in front of anyone.”

“Aside from those couple of minutes I spied on you on Saturday.” I gave her a half-smile.

“Yes. Aside from that.” Her cheeks flushed. “But since the last time I was on stage was when I passed out from starving myself, it’s a little scary to face that again.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” I said, daring to rest my hand on the small of her back. “I’m excited for everyone to see what I saw in your ballroom on Saturday.”

“Yeah?” she asked, looking up at me with the most adorably bashful expression.

“Yes.” Then leaning closer, I whispered, “Just don’t let any other guys fall for you while you’re on stage. Because I want that to beourthing.”

It felt risky to say that—to touch her back in a way that would tell anyone watching us that she wasmine—since we were still in the testing-things-out part of our relationship. But when her cheeks flushed and a shy smile lifted her lips, it was worth it.

Worth it because it reassured me that she probably felt the same butterflies I felt whenever we were together.

“So you’re saying that my dancing skills are what did it for you?” She adjusted the weight of her backpack on her shoulder.

“That and your kissing skills,” I said. “I mean, all it took was one practice kiss and I was basically a goner.”

She glanced around the deserted parking lot, like she was afraid someone would see and overhear us and be onto our little secret. But finding no one around, just a few dozen cars from the students who lived in the dorms, she looked back up to me and said, “I’d like to say that’s all it took for me, but we both know that would be a lie. It was probably game over for me when you invited me to play night games in seventh grade when my brothers tried to say I was too young.”

“It was the night games that got you?” I asked. I’d known she’d liked me back when I was in eighth grade and she was in seventh, her crush had been obvious and cute, but I’d always assumed it was because I was the only guy she spent much time around who wasn’t related to her.

“You were nice.” She shrugged.

“So it had nothing to do with the sexy mustache I had back then?” I wiggled my eyebrows flirtatiously.

“No.” She scrunched up her face. “Let’s just say I liked youdespitethat mustache and was so thankful when you learned how to shave.”

I chuckled. “I guess it’s a good thing my mom pulled me aside one day and told me to get rid of the ugly caterpillar on my upper lip.”

“Your mom is basically a saint,” Cambrielle said. “You probably owe all your success in Spin the Bottle to her for encouraging you to shave.”

“Too bad the bottle never landed on you when I spun it though.” I smirked. “We totally could have had that first kiss years ago.”

“Pretty sure my brothers would have made you spin again.”

“You’re probably right.”

We made it to my gray Toyota Land Cruiser a moment later, and I opened the back door to toss my gym bag onto the seat.

After looking around the parking lot to make sure we were away from prying eyes, I leaned against the side of my vehicle and pulled her against me.

“This is kind of nice, isn’t it?” I asked, smoothing my fingers through the ends of her soft hair when she pressed herself against me. “Just spending time alone without everyone else.”

“It is nice.” She turned her face upward, her chin on my chest. And I loved how tiny she felt against me. I was six-five and she was barely over five feet. I was basically a giant compared to her.

But I kind of loved that about us.

Us.

I smiled as I thought about that word and what it meant.

I’d never been an “us” with anyone before.

“I’m guessing you’ll be going home after this?” Cambrielle asked, slipping her hands inside the jacket of my school uniform. I still wore my workout clothes from basketball practice but had put my blue blazer on to fend off the autumn chill.

“It’s almost dinner, so I probably should.”

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