Page 66 of The Long Game

Cameron reached for the sponge again, and his jaw brushed my cheek.

My breath hitched.

His fell on my temple. “You shouldn’t be disrupting my train of thought this easily, either.”

Either. The fire in my face spread down my neck, sneaking into the neckline of the overalls. “Am I doing that?”

Cameron produced a sound that made his chest rumble. He grabbed my hands and placed them on the spinning clay. “If it’s notwell centered,” he said, increasing the speed of the plate and keeping his palms over mine as the material slid beneath my skin. The inside of his thigh pressed on the outside of mine. He felt like a furnace. “The whole thing will be off balance.”

I gave him a nod. But I was no longer listening.

“Press gently,” he instructed, driving our hands upward and around the wet material. “This is the way we cone the clay up.”

Thatweagain. I… liked it.

I also liked the hypnotizing motion of the wheel and the blanketing sensation of Cameron’s body around mine. I seemed to like one too many things about this. Things I shouldn’t like.

“Just like that.” His voice was now impossibly low, carrying the same quality I felt inside my chest. He moved even closer, his arms swallowing me up. “Good job, darling. Well done.”

Something in me stirred at the simple praise. I was vaguely aware of this happening before, but my heart still pounded. It banged against my rib cage, just like Cameron’s, and it felt good. So good that I leaned back, letting my head fall against his chest while we worked.

Cameron’s exhale tickled the skin right beneath my ear. “Let’s take it back down now,” he said, interlacing our wet fingers and sending a rush of electricity up my arms at the sensation. He moved our hands and the clay changed shape. “That looks incredible.”

That soft spot in my chest batted its wings. I hooked my thumbs with his.

A grumble climbed out of Cameron’s mouth.

The flutter intensified, making me short of breath. I wanted to turn around and search his face. See if he was feeling like I did. But I didn’t, I didn’t want this to go away. Not yet. I was trapped by the moment. Captured by the solid presence of Cameron and the feel of his hands.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve held hands with anyone,” I heard myself admit out loud. “I can’t remember something so simple ever feeling this way.”

Cameron’s hands froze momentarily over mine. It was just a second, maybe less, but I’d seen it. Felt it. He hesitated.

I was spat out of the vacuum.

Just like that, I was no longer calm. Or peacefully trapped in whatever this was. The reins I was so busy keeping a tight hold of snapped right back into my grasp. Here I was, telling this man who was reluctantly doing this with me that he was the first to hold my hands in a long time. That he made me somehow feel like I’d never felt before. What was next? To tell him that besides that one-liner Matthew had thrown at me almost a decade ago, I’d never been flirted with? That my only serious relationship had turned out to be a lie? That the man I’d thought had been ready to propose once upon a time had never seen me as more than a bridge to get to my father?

She’s so frigid man. So… boring. I really dodged a bullet there. Too bad, because when the old man kicks the bucket she’ll probably inherit most of his money. But nah. I can only endure so much.

Nah.

As if I’d been nothing more than an insipid and boring side dish you passed on.

I’ll pass on the complimentary roasted veggies, thank you very much. But nah.

I hadn’t been hurt. I didn’t care that David had ended a relationship that brought little to my life. But as time had passed, I’d held on to the idea that I’d had at least that. That one relationship that proved that I wasn’t… cold. Dry. That I could be loved. Desired.

So how was I supposed to not crack? How was I supposed to hear David laugh and say that he’d dated me just to sneak into my father’s empire, that I was a bullet that was dodged, and not have something in me break? How was I supposed to not change when I heard everything he said right after that?

The image of Sparkles’s head at my feet crystallized in—

“Adalyn.” Cameron’s voice cut through the loud disarray of thoughts in my head. Again. Just like it always managed to do. “Snap out of it, darling.” It was angry. Rough sounding. “Come back to me.”

I forced myself to make sense of my surroundings.

The blob of clay rested at a weird angle.

Strong hands held mine.

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