Page 9 of Charlie

"Do you know how many books I counted today?" he asks, his smile turning into a goofy smirk.

"No clue."

"Me neither. That's the problem. I was paying more attention to you than I was to the books. I couldn't stand to be holed up in there for one more second."

I honestly hadn't minded doing inventory. There was something relaxing about such a mundane, methodical task. My mind could empty and focus – almost like I was meditating. Plus... books.

"So, what are we going to do?"

"I haven't gotten that far yet. But I know what I want to do first." He closes the distance between us, gripping my waist and pulling me tight against him. He brushes his lips across mine, soft as a feather. He pulls away before I can deepen the kiss, his thumb caressing my cheek. "Do you want to go see the Fairy Glen?"

"Yes, I've been wanting to go!"

"Come on, then." He grins, pulling me with him down the sidewalk. We stop at the cafe and grab some sandwiches before taking off in his Defender.

An emotion I can't place swells in me as we drive through the emerald hills – like an animal waking up after a long hibernation. My heart pounds in my ears, giddiness bubbling up until I have to slap a hand over my grin to keep it in. This place makes me happy. I had forgotten what that felt like.

I crank open the window, the wind turning my hair into a tornado, the air cool between my fingers. I lean back and close my eyes, the wind and music cocooning my senses. This summer was turning into a series of moments I will never forget.

I don't open my eyes until Cameron pulls off the road to park the car. He's looking at me, his expression soft.

"You're beautiful."

"So are you," I say, pushing a lock of dark hair off his forehead. I brush my fingers over the blush creeping up his cheeks, his skin soft against my fingertips. His eyes are impossibly blue, his eyelashes so dark they look like shadows. He smiles, his dimple flashing. I push my feelings down as we get out of the car. I know this isn't going anywhere. That it can't go anywhere. It's just for fun. He likes me. I want him—end of story.

The clouds take on an ominous hue as we start the hike. We both remain optimistic, especially as we near the Glen. Fat raindrops start coming down just as we descend into what looks like the birthplace of fairies. Whorls of rock are scattered over velvety grass. A worn path leads up to what looks like it could have been a rock spire at one time. Perhaps even a tower. We explore for about ten minutes before we're both soaked and shivering. Cameron wraps his arm around me as we run back down the path, trying to shield my body from the rain.

"Now what?" I ask when we get back to his car, my teeth chattering. "I don't want to get the seat wet!"

"Get in the back, I'll turn on the heat." He turns the truck on, cranks the heat, and hops in the back with me.

I fold in on myself, desperate for some warmth, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

"You're going to have to strip, Charlie. Your lips are purple."

"Only if you strip with me," I say, trying to sound cheeky, but it gets lost in the chattering.

"Good thinking." He winks, but it's outshone by the massive shiver that shakes his shoulders.

We peel off our layers and drape them as best we can over the front vents. He pulls me onto his lap, squeezing me in his arms, one hand sweeping up and down my back. I rest my cheek against his shoulder. Slowly my shivering subsides, replaced by uneven breathing.

"Better? Your teeth aren't chattering anymore."

"Better," I say, trying to ignore the fire igniting in the places we're pressed together. I can't stop looking at his lips, licking mine like I want to lick his. My thoughts must be written on my face because his pupils blow wide a second later. He groans my name and I lose control.

I crush my mouth to his. His lips are so soft, molding to mine like they belong there. He cups my jaw, angling my head. His tongue slicks over my lips, pushing past them. He moans and repositions me so I'm straddling his waist. I gasp as his hard length presses against me, rocking against him, shuddering.

"You're sure you want this?" he asks, pressing his forehead to mine.

"Yes, Cameron. I want this. I want you."

His hand slides up my ribs and over my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. I pull his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring out, wrapping my hand around the base and squeezing lightly.

He groans and fucks my hand for a couple of strokes. "Charlotte, it's been a while..."

"It's okay," I smile, touched by his admission.

"No, it's not," he rasps, his voice strained. "Are you able to reach the condoms in the glove box?"

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