Page 43 of Only in Your Dreams

He drops his arms to regard me with a raised eyebrow.That’s better.

“We watched it together, you absolute brat. You peed your pants at the one scene—”

My jaw drops. “I did notpee my pants.”

“Oh, that’s right. You ‘spilled your drink.’” He makes air quotes with his fingers, pairing them with a slow, derisive nod and looking all the way amused now. “Conveniently over your crotch, but who’s to say what really happened.”

I flush. This has backfired hideously. “Ibeggedyou and Parker not to put that stupid movie on. We were only fourteen—”

“Hold up,” Zac says and raises his palms, grin spreading over his face. “Please confirm for the record that you just tacitly admitted that youdidpee your pants while we were watchingFriday the Thirteenth—”

“You’re such an ass,” I mutter.

He snorts. “I can’t believe this. The mystery of Melody Woods’s soaked crotch, revealed at last. We need to commemorate this moment. Quick, find me something sharp enough to carve into this tree.Here marks the spot where Mel Woods finally confessed—”

“Do me a favor and leave all matters related to my crotch out of your head and mouth.”

“Trust me, that’s easier said than done.”

There’s a completely brazen, unabashed confidence radiating off him, same as it was this morning. The curve to his brow, the unmistakable smirk. The challenge in his eyes, like he just dropped a dumpster full of balls in my court, and he’s waiting to see what I do with them.

You know what?

It’s crap. Suchcrap. How do you go from nothing for ten years to this kind of flirtation?

Connor had been the same way. Came in hot, right off the bat. Look how that turned out.

I brush past him, aiming for the campsite. “I know I happen to be the only other warm body for miles, but for the record, the whole desperate-to-get-laid thing really isn’t working for you.”

“I don’t care about getting laid.” Zac easily falls into step with my pace. “I want you to tell me you won’t avoid me once we get back to town.”

I pivot to face him. “God, why do you care? It’s been ten years of nothing!”

“Exactly. I made that mistake once. I’m not letting you go on bad terms again. Not after having you back. The weekend’s been a bit awkward, but we needed it—”

“Having me back?A bit awkward?” I splutter, trying to grasp onto follow up words. “This weekend has been a living disaster. We got stranded in the woods. I messed up my ankle. You—we—if you had just stayed in the car—”

“And left you out there to get stranded by yourself?” he says incredulously. “How the fuck would I have been able to live with myself if something happened to you?”

“Stop acting like you suddenly care how I’m doing.” I take a step backwards, away from him, and my back hits a tree. “Frankly, it’s a miracle you haven’t driven me half insane by now.”

“And now you know how it feels,” Zac says, voice rising. He shoves up the sleeves of his shirt. “To be driven out of my mind insane every time you’re around. To want something so fucking bad and know you can never have it.”

I rear at the intensity of his words. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He ignores the question. Zac closes the gap between us, our toes touching, feeding me his body heat. “Swear to me you won’t avoid me the second we get home.”

The absolute audacity of his request stuns me into silence. He’s the one who lied and said he’d come back for me. Who never reached out after.

Zac lifts a hand to sweep the hair off my face. He’s standing so close my eyesight is full of him. His skin, his body, the soft brown of his eyes.

The flash of red at his wrist as he lowers his arm.

“What’s that?”

He winds his arm behind his back, hiding it from view, but I grasp it and tug. Heart suddenly pounding in my ears, because it kind of looked like—

“Show it to me.”

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