guess it does fit. Never mind,” she said, feeling like an idiot. And flustered. Troy could always get under her skin so easily. “I got it.”
He didn’t move, still determined to help. The heat from his body had her temp mounting. They both reached for the bar to extend the bed, and while ensued in a battle of who could pull the bed out first, they flew backward. She landed on top of him on the pool table.
She paused, hands sprawled out. “This is awkward,” she muttered.
“I don’t know,” he argued. His voice sounded strange. Deeper. “I’ve never had sex on this table. Might be fun.”
She uttered a sound of distress and scrambled off of him, landing on the sleeper. “Would you be serious, Troy?”
She kinda wished he was.
“We are supposed to be dating,” he answered, as if not disconcerted in the least.
“Not without witnesses.” She pushed her hair away from her face.
His laughter filled the room for several seconds as he sat upright and hopped off the table. “Can I help you with anything else, Cam? Finding the shower? Using a blanket?”
Exhaling, her eyes narrowed. Infuriating man! “Does the neon Miller Lite beer sign turn off? It’s a bit bright for a nightlight.”
He pulled a string hanging under the sign on the wall, sending the room into near darkness. “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Now get out before a fantasy pops in my head . Again.
Troy stared at the pool table as if thinking the same thing she was. He blinked and looked back at her. “Why don’t you take my room? I’ll sleep in here.”
“No, no. I’m fine.” Sort of.
“You sure? I have Transformer sheets.”
Swallowing, she looked him in the eye, wanting to know what he was really thinking. “Why are you doing this?”
A look of irritation crossed his face. “Doing what?”
Being nice. Making me want to know what’s under the boy-child clothes.
She crossed her arms to block out the chill. “Agreeing to date me.”
He stared at the pool table again. “I don’t know, but I said I would.” He looked back at her, his gaze roaming her face and dropping to her mouth where it hovered for several seconds. “I’d do just about anything for you. You know that. And you know why.”
Her mouth popped open. No, she didn’t know.
He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “’Night, Cam.”
“Troy.” She struggled to stand. “Thank you.”
He turned from the doorway. “No need to thank me.”
Chapter Four
Life Lessons According to Camryn:
Running late counts as exercise.
The rush through General Mitchell Airport was something right out of the Home Alone manual. Yjaka Harold insisted on holding the tickets, Nana bitched about having to use a wheelchair, Kuma Viola was applying lipstick while attempting to go through security, and Emily made a guard spit his coffee out when she said he had a big stick.
The Covics never went anywhere without leaving a lasting impression.
Troy closed his eyes and lay his head back just as the fasten seatbelt light chimed off. Thirty thousand feet in an enclosed plane for three hours with the family. Good times. He grabbed a magazine and flipped through it.
Fisher walked past them to take Emily to the bathroom. He nodded at Camryn, avoided looking at Troy, and moved on.
“I don’t understand why he’s so mad,” Cam said.
“You and I both know Fisher’s temper.”
“But why be mad at you? He should be angry with me. I’m his sister.”
“He thinks I’m going to hurt you. My dating history doesn’t bode well for changing his mind.”
Deep down, Troy figured he and Cam were crossing a proverbial line in Fisher’s opinion. A line they shouldn’t cross and had. Or he thought they had. He wanted so badly to tell his best friend this was a lie. Knowing that would make Fisher feel better. But part of him liked this lie too. The part of him that still needed to prove he was worthy of something.
“Fisher must know that I’d be more likely to hurt
He didn’t move, still determined to help. The heat from his body had her temp mounting. They both reached for the bar to extend the bed, and while ensued in a battle of who could pull the bed out first, they flew backward. She landed on top of him on the pool table.
She paused, hands sprawled out. “This is awkward,” she muttered.
“I don’t know,” he argued. His voice sounded strange. Deeper. “I’ve never had sex on this table. Might be fun.”
She uttered a sound of distress and scrambled off of him, landing on the sleeper. “Would you be serious, Troy?”
She kinda wished he was.
“We are supposed to be dating,” he answered, as if not disconcerted in the least.
“Not without witnesses.” She pushed her hair away from her face.
His laughter filled the room for several seconds as he sat upright and hopped off the table. “Can I help you with anything else, Cam? Finding the shower? Using a blanket?”
Exhaling, her eyes narrowed. Infuriating man! “Does the neon Miller Lite beer sign turn off? It’s a bit bright for a nightlight.”
He pulled a string hanging under the sign on the wall, sending the room into near darkness. “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Now get out before a fantasy pops in my head . Again.
Troy stared at the pool table as if thinking the same thing she was. He blinked and looked back at her. “Why don’t you take my room? I’ll sleep in here.”
“No, no. I’m fine.” Sort of.
“You sure? I have Transformer sheets.”
Swallowing, she looked him in the eye, wanting to know what he was really thinking. “Why are you doing this?”
A look of irritation crossed his face. “Doing what?”
Being nice. Making me want to know what’s under the boy-child clothes.
She crossed her arms to block out the chill. “Agreeing to date me.”
He stared at the pool table again. “I don’t know, but I said I would.” He looked back at her, his gaze roaming her face and dropping to her mouth where it hovered for several seconds. “I’d do just about anything for you. You know that. And you know why.”
Her mouth popped open. No, she didn’t know.
He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “’Night, Cam.”
“Troy.” She struggled to stand. “Thank you.”
He turned from the doorway. “No need to thank me.”
Chapter Four
Life Lessons According to Camryn:
Running late counts as exercise.
The rush through General Mitchell Airport was something right out of the Home Alone manual. Yjaka Harold insisted on holding the tickets, Nana bitched about having to use a wheelchair, Kuma Viola was applying lipstick while attempting to go through security, and Emily made a guard spit his coffee out when she said he had a big stick.
The Covics never went anywhere without leaving a lasting impression.
Troy closed his eyes and lay his head back just as the fasten seatbelt light chimed off. Thirty thousand feet in an enclosed plane for three hours with the family. Good times. He grabbed a magazine and flipped through it.
Fisher walked past them to take Emily to the bathroom. He nodded at Camryn, avoided looking at Troy, and moved on.
“I don’t understand why he’s so mad,” Cam said.
“You and I both know Fisher’s temper.”
“But why be mad at you? He should be angry with me. I’m his sister.”
“He thinks I’m going to hurt you. My dating history doesn’t bode well for changing his mind.”
Deep down, Troy figured he and Cam were crossing a proverbial line in Fisher’s opinion. A line they shouldn’t cross and had. Or he thought they had. He wanted so badly to tell his best friend this was a lie. Knowing that would make Fisher feel better. But part of him liked this lie too. The part of him that still needed to prove he was worthy of something.
“Fisher must know that I’d be more likely to hurt
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