Page 42 of Coincidentally Kismet

“Fine...I’ll try, but you two are responsible if this backfires. And it’ll be your ass picking me up off the floor.” I point at Smith. I know he would be there for me a million times over.

“Deal, but Will, don’t take it too far...just enough to see if you still have something there. I don’t want either of you getting hurt,” Amy admonishes. What happened to throwing caution to the wind?

“Deal.” I smirk at my sister. She has no clue how strong the connection is and that I already know there is enough heat between Cam and me to start a forest fire the likes of which the modern world has never seen. Chemistry has never been our problem; it’s been emotions.

I’ve hurt Cam before, and I don’t want to lose another person, but maybe things will be different this time. Or maybe the alcohol is leading me down a path I shouldn’t take. But hey, wouldn’t be the first time, and torturing myself by not finding out sucks.

CHAPTER 20

CAM

“BAD IDEA RIGHT?” - OLIVIA RODRIGO

I’ve been dancing for hours. I’m drenched in sweat, and I don’t believe for a second that my playful flirting with Will’s friends has gone unnoticed. He’s eyed me warily all night, the scowl he’s been sporting for the better part of the last two, maybe three, bars is almost comical. He’s making this more difficult than it has to be. It’s not like making a move on me isn’t something he hasn’t done before. And while a few days ago, hell, a few hours ago, I would have reasoned his lack of response toward me was because he wasn’t interested, I know better now.

How am I suddenly so confident? For one, feeling his hard length against me in the ocean was a dead giveaway. Second, he hasn’t so much as looked at anyone else, and trust me when I say there isn’t a shortage of drool-worthy girls to go around. It’s the beach after all, it’s practically a walking porno mag everywhere we turn.

Amy has been giving me shit all night about not making my move. The thing is though, even if I can tell he wants me, there is no way I’m acting first. Will has always loved the chase. Plus, my newfound understanding of his feelings is not enough for meto open myself up to rejection from him, or from anyone else for that matter. I guess I still don’t fully trust my intuition or his supposed feelings for me, as told by Amy and Lo.

I spotted Amy and Smith talking to him earlier. They must have said something about the stick he had lodged up his ass because he started drinking again—not enough for him to be drunk, but definitely enough to be bold. I, on the other hand, started the night strong, but the food I plowed through and the dancing has made it nearly impossible to get anywhere beyond that warm, hazy buzz that happens after the first two drinks. Honestly, I’m thankful. I hate feeling out of control or hungover.

Slow beats bellow out of the speakers, lulling me into a euphoric state. I slowly swing my hips as the music takes a slightly more subdued turn. Music has always been fuel for my soul: a quick, happy song with the windows down to celebrate the fresh spring air, a soul-wrenching breakup song that drowns your tears better than any girls’ night or pint of ice cream. Songs like this are so much more than just music; it’s therapy, soothing me and carrying me through any situation imaginable.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, content to let the melody carry me through this weird night, and really, this entire weird situation of being caught in the middle. I don’t want to admit that I have feelings for Will, but it’s something that won’t go away. Like a splinter you work at but can’t seem to pull the last bit out.

“You okay, Wright?” Will’s smooth, soothing voice sweeps over me, hot breath on my neck as his big, strong arms wrap tightly around my waist sending sparks up my spine.

My eyes pop open, and dammit, I can’t help but grin. “I’m great! Letting the song take me away from it all. What are you doing over here, Rambo?” I ask, sweeping my arm toward the dance floor.

“Just checking on you. I can think of some other ways to carry you away from it all, you know,” he says with a sultry smirk.

“I-is that a good idea? I thought we were just friends, Will,” I ask, a little breathless and puzzled, all at the same time.

“You called me, Will.” He leans toward me and smiles. I can feel his lips turn up as they coast across my neck.

“Don’t get used to it. What are we doing?” I turn in his arms, fully enveloped in him, wrapped in his cedar scent.

“I was told not to think, to just go with it.” His words come out gravelly as his chest heaves, sucking in breaths.

“We have to think about it though, don’t we?” My mind is spinning. His lips are inches from mine, our breath intermingling.

“You are all I’ve thought about for five years. I just want one minute to not think, just to feel with you. Only you.” He closes his eyes, pain and sorrow nipping at my resolve.

Do I want to go down this road? Should I let myself become vulnerable to what is surely going to be a road of heartbreak and pain? But the feel of his warm, strong body wrapped around me creates a fictitious sense of security. I’m feeling safe, protected, even a little loopy.

I glance at his lips quickly, then dart my eyes back to his. He takes a minute to stare deep into mine, like he’s searching for something, but what it is, I have no idea. He whispers, “Fuck it,” and I feel his lips crash down on mine.

Will’s kiss is soft and tentative at first, just a simple press of his lips against mine. I feel the rumble of approval in his throat, and I dart my tongue gently out, licking carefully across the seam of his mouth. He parts it slowly, and we gently take our time exploring each other’s taste, almost tentatively.

It’s not awkward, it isn’t our first time kissing each other. Instead, it’s comforting, similar to saying hello to someone whowas important to you but who you lost touch with for a bit. Kissing Will is tantalizing. Goose bumps pepper my whole body, and there’s a wet heat thrumming down my belly and into lower parts that sends shivers up my spine.

He nips at my lower lip, and I take the advantage by delving in, pulling the kiss deeper. I’m not sure when I wrapped my hands around his neck, but I can’t seem to get him close enough. At the same time, I can’t breathe because I’m wrapped so tightly against him. Our tongues tangle, searching, exploring, tasting everything we can. He’s pressing my favorite steel rod into my belly as my hips work to gain leverage and I grind against him. I break the kiss for a second, gasping for air.

“Th-that was . . . nice,” I huff out breathlessly.

“Nice? Hmm...I think I would choose a different adjective,” he says, his lips curling up adorably into that smirk I’ve come to love so much.

“I mean, yeah, obviously. I don’t think my brain is working right now. Lack of oxygen, you know?” I say, pink dusting my cheeks.

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