by McKinley May
We've been toeing that "do not cross" line since that intimate night at the ice cream shop, every conversation pushing our unspoken boundaries a little further.
That flame I was supposed to put out?
Pretty sure I doused it with gasoline instead.
It's getting really fucking hard to ignore this intense chemistry between us.
"I'm not your handsome stranger, Sydney," I say.
She lifts her head. "Why do you say that?"
"'Cause I'd hardly call us strangers. Think we're a bit more acquainted than that after this past month." I arch a brow. "Don't you?"
She bites down on her lip, the shy gesture adorable as hell.
"I do," she agrees softly. "Way more than strangers. More than acquaintances, too."
So much more.
"I wanna show you something," I say suddenly.
"What?"
"Follow me and you'll find out." I rise to my feet and hold out one hand. "C'mon."
Her dainty fingers intertwine with mine as I lead her towards the silver set of bleachers.
"You're not scared of heights, are you?"
"Nope." She shakes her head. "Opposite, actually. I love being up high; it's exhilarating."
"Good to hear." I motion towards the stadium's broadcast booth. "So you're cool going up there?"
Her head dips back as she locates the press box at the top of the seating area. She smiles and gives an enthusiastic nod.
"Let's do it."
The second we get inside the snug booth, Sydney's got her hands and face squished against the back window, eyes wide as she gazes out over Windhaven with child-like wonder.
"Wow. You can see every inch of campus from here." With a gasp, she points at a red-brick building in the distance. "I swear that's my dorm room. Those are totally Crimson's plants on the window sill!" She squints. "Her Venus flytrap looks sinister even from a mile away..."
"Badass view, huh?" I walk up behind her and tap the glass twice. "There's the very tip of Sigma Pi way over there. Can't see the Treehouse, but you can kinda pinpoint where it is based on the fraternity."
"You've been up here before?"
"Yup. Loads of times. Mostly when I was a freshman, though. I haven't visited in a few years."
I glance around, taking note of the assortment of cardboard boxes, spider webs, and the untouched layer of dust that seems to coat the entire space.
"Doesn't look like anybody else has, either," I say as I gently kick a container. "Wonder what's in all these things."
"Maybe some ancient Windhaven secrets. Open them up," Sydney encourages. She turns away from the window, rubbing her palms together in excitement. "Let's see what's insi—oww!"
She's so focused on the mystery boxes that she completely misses the metal crate beneath her feet. When she bangs her shin against it, she lets out a loud yelp and starts to fall forward.
In an instant, I've got her in my arms, keeping her from tumbling to the dirty floor.
"You okay?" I ask as I hoist her to a standing position.
"All good." She frowns at the glowing red mark on her leg. "But shin guards would've been seriously appreciated right about now. That freaking hurt."
"Looks like it. So smooth on the track and field, so clumsy off of it. You're a walking contradiction."
I lightly squeeze her shoulders, my impish grin met with laughter and a gentle shove.
"Hey! Take that back. I'm as graceful as a ballerina and you know it. I'm blaming the lapse in coordination on this." She points to the short pieces of hair hanging loosely in front of her eyes, then blows upward to get them out of her field of vision. "My ponytail's falling out and my hair's all up in my face, blocking my sight."
When she pulls a yellow scrunchie from her thick locks, the almost-black strands slowly cascade to her shoulders, tips brushing against my knuckles.
Just as she starts to put it back up in a tighter bun, I stop her.
"Wait." When my fingers gently wrap around her wrist, she tilts her head in confusion. "I've never seen you with your hair down."
"You haven't?"
"I don't think so."
"Ugh, well, I wish I was having a better hair day." She immediately reaches up, running her fingers through it like a makeshift brush. "It's a total mess right now."
"No, it's not," I assure her. "I like it."
Before I can stop myself, I'm reaching out to tuck an errant strand behind her ear.
The gesture is meant to be innocent, but the moment my fingertips graze the supple skin of her cheek, it becomes anything but.
The feather-light touch is electric, producing a buzz that's intimate and all-consuming.
I should pull away, break the contact, but I don't.
I can't.
Instead, I let my hand drag slowly down the side of her neck.
When my thumb traces the edge of her sharp jawline, her breath hitches, those big blue eyes searching mine in questioning.
"You like it?" She repeats my words, her voice shaky, uneven.
"Yeah. And I like you, Sydney." Releasing a deep exhale, I double-down on my statement. "Fuck. I really like you."
The moment the confession tumbles past my lips, everything seems to change.
The cozy booth feels even smaller, oxygen scarce and air thick with tension. Our breathing becomes labored, chests rising and falling as I move closer.
"Cameron..."
The way she whispers my name...damn it does something to me.
"Sydney."
I take another step forward, both hands cupping her cheeks.
She swallows. "What are you doing?"
"Something I've wanted to do for a while now."
And that's when I make the decision to ignore the rules.
Ignore the multitude of reasons why we shouldn't...the mile-long list outlining why this is a bad idea.
None of that shit matters to me anymore.
I push all logical thought aside, a simple 'fuck it' passing through my mind as I act purely on impulse.
Before I can second-guess myself, my mouth is molded to hers in a fervent kiss.
And, shit, it's everything I imagined it would be.
Everything and more.
Her lips are soft and sweet, her skin ablaze with color and palpable arousal. She's tense at first, stunned like a deer in headlights.
After a beat or two, she gives in, body relaxing as she becomes an active participant. Her hands come to rest on my hips, then sneak under the hem of my t-shirt as she flattens her palms against my abdomen. Her touch is cool, a shiver racing down my spine at the sensation of her flesh against mine.
She stands taller, stretching her neck to alleviate the height difference. Her lips move against mine with desperate need, her eyes fluttering shut as she loses herself in the moment.
Thick, dark lashes rest against the tips of her rosy cheeks, and I swear I've never seen anything like her.
So. damn. beautiful.
I tilt her head back and deepen the kiss. When our tongues meet, her hands gently drag down my torso, fingertips teasing the elastic band of my briefs. A groan of pleasure vibrates in my chest as all the blood in my body rushes south, full-speed ahead.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I tug her flush to my body. I'm so worked up, so fucking hard, I can't stop myself from grinding against her. The sensual moan she emits in response lets me know she's just as turned on as I am.
With feverish desire and racing pulses, we remain in the position for what seems like literal hours. Hands, mouths, bodies...all play a part in the intense exploration.
A soft breeze penetrates the open door every so often, the cool air a stark contrast to the fiery heat emanating off the two of us.
God could strike me down right now and I'd die a happy man.
Because there's only one way to describe this kiss.
It's fucking magic.
In that dark and dusty broadcast booth, with silver moonlight pouring down on us through the w
indow, with the melodic song of crickets and the steady hum of the field lights piercing the midnight silence, we officially cross that line.
And I know there's no going back.
18
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Three obnoxious thumps disrupt my Netflix session early Thursday night.
I glance towards Crimson's desk, hoping she'll take one for the team and answer the door, but she's nowhere to be seen. With a heavy sigh, I pause my show, yank my headphones out, and reluctantly drag myself off my bed.
Who dares interrupt my Friends binge?!
It doesn't take long to figure that out.
As I approach the door, I hear a trio of familiar voices penetrating the thin dormitory walls.
"Rayne!" Ellie whisper-yells. "That was a rude knock!"
"Huh? What do you mean? How can a knock be 'rude'?"
"It sounded real angry and serious. Like you're a detective coming to interrogate her about a murder or something!"
"She's got a point, R." I recognize Lexie's bubbly timbre. "That was the kind of knock your landlord does before taping an eviction notice to your door. Major you're in trouble vibes."
"If you want someone to open up, make it sound pretty," Ellie insists. "Melodic, almost, like a song. Here—listen to this."
She gently raps her knuckles against the wood in a soft, musical rhythm.
"That is nice," Rayne concedes.
"I don't know, El." Lexie tuts a few times. "It's cute, but too hard to hear. Time for my strategy."
She clears her throat, then hollers out my name at the top of her lungs.
"SYDNEY! Yoo-hoo!!" Two energetic taps follow her exuberant shouting. "Open this door, please and thank you!"
Before my R.A. comes busting down the hall wondering what all the commotion is about, I quickly undo the locks.
"Uh...hey guys?" I open the door and slant my head. "What's up?"
My perplexed greeting is met by three pearly-white smiles.
"Would you look at that? She's aliveee!" Lexie laughs as she gently shoves her way inside. The other two immediately follow her lead.
"Where you been hidin', girlie?" Ellie holds her arms out wide, inviting me in for an embrace I know better than to refuse.
The girl is a hugger.
As she squeezes me tight, a phone starts to ring. Rayne reaches into her pocket and pulls out her cell.
"Hey! We found her. She's in her dorm, safe and sound. Told you, babe." She sits on my bed and bounces a few times. "Yep. We'll bring her over ASAP. Love you, too. Bye!"
"Bring me over where? What are y'all talking about?"
To say I'm confused would be an understatement.
"Vaughn said you haven't answered any of his texts or calls for twenty-four hours," Rayne explains. "He was beginning to think you'd been kidnapped."
"Kidnapped?"
"Mhmm. By the Mafia."
"The Mafia?" Laughter bursts from my mouth. "What the hell is wrong with him?"
"Wait 'til you hear Weston's theory. Even more ridiculous." Lexie inspects my desk area, smiling at a pic of me and my bro in a wooden frame before she continues. "He figured you'd decided this whole college thing was overrated so you dropped out, packed your bags, and fled to Brazil to play soccer on the beach for the rest of your life."
"Now there's an idea," I crack. "But I definitely need to brush up on my Portuguese first."
"What in heaven's name..."
I hear Ellie mumbling to herself from Crimson's side of the room and glance her way. She looks both horrified and fascinated, eyes scanning the plethora of scary decor.
"Your roommate really went all out decorating for Halloween, didn't she?"
"Actually, no," I say with a chuckle. "None of this stuff is just for the holiday. The spook-show theme is an all-year-round thing with her."
"Oh?" Ellie's forehead wrinkles. "That's...odd."
She reaches out, grabbing the stuffed raven from the night stand to get a closer look. Right as she lifts the bird, a giant skull attached to a rope drops from the ceiling. The hollowed bones dangle just inches from Ellie's petrified face.
"Oh my gosh!"
The high-pitched squeal that comes from her mouth has me and the other girls cracking up.
"Sorry. I probably should've warned y'all to keep on your toes. Crimson's booby-trapped at least half of this room." I wave a hand across the small space. "Yesterday, I opened my dresser to grab some socks and there was an extremely lifelike tarantula sitting there, just chilling on top of my underwear."
"A tarantula? Fake or not, that's terrifying!" Ellie shudders.
"I know, right? It about gave me a heart attack."
"Your roommate sounds like quite the character." Her vision strays to the sunken eyes of the skull and she shudders once more. "I'm comin' to your side where it's safe."
With slow, cautious tip-toes, the frazzled brunette makes her way over. She joins Rayne on my bed, releasing a sigh of relief when she hits the mattress.
"Anyway, back to what we were saying... The boys sent the three of us out on a mission to hunt you down." She smooths a hand over her burgundy mini-skirt before giving me a stern finger-wagging. "Everyone was worried."
"Oh my God, seriously?" I grin and resist the urge to roll my eyes. "They're too much."
One measly day of no contact and the Treehouse Girls search and rescue was deployed. My brother and his crazy friends are so damn overprotective. I'm not sure if I'm annoyed or appreciative of that fact.
A little bit of both, probably.
"Alright, enough chit-chat! You're alive and well, you're obviously not busy tonight..." Lexie grins as she points an accusatory finger at my open laptop, Ross and Rachel giving away my evening veg-out plans. "You should join us for C and C."
"C and C?"
"Charades and Champagne!" Ellie decodes. "My birthday's this Saturday—"
"It is? Happy early birthday!"
"Thanks, girl." She smiles. "But I'll be in Georgia all weekend visiting my family, so the boys said we could celebrate tonight with whatever I wanted. I thought charades and champagne sounded pretty dang fun. Catchy, too!" She tilts her head in that innocent puppy-dog sort of way. "You'll come, won't you Sydney?"
Suddenly, I'm under the intense scrutiny of three pairs of eyes—ice blue, lime green, and honey-colored irises are focused directly on me. Add that in with the girls' eager expressions and nods of encouragement and one thing is very clear.
'No' is not an acceptable answer.
"Okay, okay. Y'all win." I hike a thumb towards my closet. "Let me grab a jacket and we can go."
After yanking on an oversized Windhaven sweatshirt, I find my keys and the four of us head out. We squeeze past a group of sorority girls dressed for a night on the town, the scent of flavored vodka and hair spray overwhelming the narrow hallway.
"We're gonna be keeping tabs on you from here on out." Rayne gives me a playful smile and hits the down button. "No more avoiding the Treehouse."
The loud ding of the lift sounds. As we pile into the small elevator, I quickly shake my head back and forth.
"What do you mean? I wasn't avoiding the Treehouse!"
She doesn't question my statement, but the defensiveness in my tone is obvious.
Another thing that's obvious?
The evidence countering my denial.
On a normal week, I stop by the jungle oasis at least three or four times. Five, if I'm desperate for homework help or if Erika brings over some mouth-watering meals for the guys.
This past week, however, I haven't stepped foot in the place. Not even once.
But here's the thing.
It's not actually the Treehouse I'm avoiding.
It's a certain boy who lives there.
After what happened between Cam and me on Saturday night, I've been a mess of emotions. A hot mess. Bewildered, perplexed, giddy, shocked...the roller coaster of feelings is nonstop.
I'm not a frequent flyer on the Overreaction Expres
s, so it's no surprise my response to the inner turmoil hasn't been ideal. Instead of dealing with the situation like an adult, I've taken the cowardly route.
I'm avoiding it at all costs.
While my brother's 'up in arms' over my lack of correspondence, there's really only one individual who has good reason to be pissed at my ghosting.
Cameron.
The only text I've sent him in the past five days was early Sunday morning: a dry, low-effort message bailing on him and Bev for the day, no excuse given.
It was absolutely pathetic.
And every attempt to contact me since has been met with something even worse.
Utter silence.
I'm being an immature bitch...I know.
Self-awareness is not something I lack.
But what the heck am I supposed to do?!
Should I address the elephant in the room? Ask him about the kiss and where we go from here?
Or should I pretend it never happened? Continue with the status quo, act like things are normal?
Like my world wasn't flipped upside down the very moment his lips met mine?
It's complicated.
And here I am, surrounded by three senior girls who are like older sisters to me, all of whom have experience and knowledge when it comes to boys—the Treehouse Boys, in particular—and yet I can't ask for advice because there's no way word wouldn't get back to my stupid brother.
Ughhh!
As we walk towards off-campus, I push the thoughts and worries from my mind. I don't wanna deal with this right now.
And I seriously hope Cam is M.I.A. tonight so I don't have to.
Ha! As if I'd get that lucky...
Ten minutes later, we arrive at the beautiful property.
Lush, thick trees are all shades of Autumn: fiery red, butterscotch orange, and honey yellow. I purposely step on the fallen leaves littered around the front yard, crunching them under my sneakers.
Once we get to the Main House staircase, Rayne and I seize the opportunity to race up the steep steps.
She and I are serious junkies for competition.
