Page 56 of Every Thought Taken

I have zero fear of being alone with Anderson. We have spent countless hours and days together, just the two of us. Movie nights, summer days at the town diner, hikes on previous camping trips.

But this… this is different.

There is no chance of anyone interrupting us. No one will join us or pull one of us aside. We aren’t surrounded by familiar faces or restaurant patrons. This isn’t our annual camping trip, and there won’t be any parents in a few hours to tell us to go to our tent.

“Walk to the lookout?” Anderson reaches for my hand, lacing my fingers with his.

On a trail just outside of town, we set up camp in a small alcove. Dad let me use his truck for the weekend, and I drove us to the trailhead, parking in the small lot. Aside from the gear on our backs, we brought a small cooler, a tub of nonperishables and dishware, and jugs of water. We hiked close to a mile before we set up camp, the alcove providing some shelter and protecting our back side.

I didn’t worry about hikers nabbing any of our belongings. It’s the animals whose habitat we shared that I worried about breaking into the cooler or wrecking our tent.

As if reading my thoughts, Anderson gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Everything will be fine.” He points down the path. “It’s maybe a quarter mile to the lookout.” He pivots, brings a hand to my chin, and lifts my gaze to his. “You, me, the sunset.” He drops his lips to mine. “Then we’ll come back.”

I melt under his touch. How the hell can I say no to that?

“’Kay,” I rasp out.

We walk the path without hurry, breathing in the rich scents of earth and pine. His thumb strokes the length of mine every few steps, his eyes on the trail ahead. I peek up at him from beneath my lashes, study the slope of his nose, the now sharper angle of his jaw and chin, and the light dusting of blond hair on both. But my eyes stay on his lips the longest. The perfect cupid’s bow, his lips not too thin or full.

A smile ghosts his lips as we reach the lookout point, but his eyes remain forward. “Thinking about kissing me, North?” When I don’t answer right away, his smile stretches wider as his eyes meet mine. “It’s okay, you know.”

I lift a brow and shake my head. “Yeah, Ander, I know.” I chuckle. “And what if I was?”

Arm on the wood rail, he inches closer, his breath warm on my ear. “I’d say act on it. God knows I always think about kissing you.”

Heat blooms in my chest, trickling through my limbs, up my neck, and low in my belly as he kisses the line of my jaw, stopping just before my lips. My pulse whooshes in my ears with his lips a breath from mine. But he doesn’t lean in to seal the kiss. No, he hovers and waits and tortures me with ragged breaths and desperation.

I fist the cotton of his shirt, suck in a sharp breath, and close the space between us. His smile falls away as I take his bottom lip between mine, as I lick the seam of his lips, as I dip my tongue inside and taste him. He moans and I swallow down the sound. And then we’re moving, my back pressed against the rail as his hands frame my face and he deepens the kiss further.

The kiss feels obscene, an indecent display out in the open. Our touches or kisses have never been this… hungry in public. Then again, we have never been so completely alone in public. No watchful eyes. No town gossips or school blabbermouths.

I’ve never felt more free—on my own and with him.

And just as the thought crosses my mind, he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on mine. Our ragged breaths mingle with the warm summer breeze, his fingers toying with my hair as mine tighten their hold on his shirt.

“Love you, North. So damn much.” He drops a chaste kiss to my lips.

“Love you, Ander.”

“Much as I want to keep kissing you, I want to watch this sunset with you too.” Soft laughter leaves his lips and I can’t help but do the same.

“Fine,” I huff out in a tease. “But once that sun’s down…”

“Say no more.”

CHAPTER32

ANDERSON

After pink and orange danced across the sky, Helena and I walked back to the campsite, her arm hooked around my elbow. The entire time, all I thought of was her lips and the heady kiss we had shared not long before.

Now that we are back at camp and settling in for the night, nervous energy floods my veins.

Intimacy is nothing new with us. Hand-holding. Cuddling in dark places. Sweet and indecent kisses, more so in private than public. Sex.

The three-letter word suddenly makes me sweaty. Has my fingers twitchy and eyes darting to her more often than not. Has me finding unnecessary things to do before we enter the tent and close ourselves off from the world all night.

The tent. Our two sleeping bags are situated to make one large bed. Is it stupid of me to assume we will have sex while camping? It’s hot and a little muggy out. Will she wear her usual pajama shorts and tank top? Or sleep in less? Maybe she just wants to lie together and cuddle all night. Maybe she wants to sleep on her own.

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