Theirs to Keep

“You can take me right here on the couch if you want to,” I giggled playfully. “There might be a little explaining to do tomorrow, if someone happens to get up for a midnight snack, but—”

His hands dropped again, back to my waist. Lifting me gently but firmly, Camden broke his lips from mine and slid away.

“I— I’m sorry, Karissa.”

It was all he said. The only words that left his perfectly plump lips, as he stood up and dropped the blanket back into my lap.

My eyes followed him all the way out of the room, my brain spinning through a dozen different scenarios in a futile effort to figure out what the hell just happened.

Seven

KARISSA

The movie played out for another few minutes before I left the living room. It was too creepy to watch alone. Besides, I wasn’t in the mood anymore. Making my way back to my bedroom, I was still confused.

Was it something I did?

No, I didn’t think so. Everything I’d done had been wholly reciprocated. And looking back, it had actually been Camden that made the first move.

This turned my confusion in the direction of anger. Hell, he’d started the whole thing. Just because I was willing to finis

h it and he wasn’t, didn’t mean that—

“Hey, beautiful.”

The words stopped me in the hallway, mid-step. Slowly I turned around… and found Bryce standing in the doorway to his room.

“You still up for this?”

He was leaning against the inside of the top molding, his two big arms perched somewhere overhead. It made every muscle of his chest and shoulders stand out. But it also pulled the hem of his shirt up… revealing the bottom two rows of his deliciously-shredded abs.

Holy fuck.

And from the smile on his face, he knew it, too.

“Ummm…”

I fumbled for the phone I wasn’t carrying. It was back on the charger, in my room.

“It’s midnight, right?” he mused. “Or close to it?”

I shrugged and smiled back at him. If he was game, I was.

“Sure.”

Besides, it’s not like I was tired or anything.

“Cool. Lemmie throw some shorts on.”

I hadn’t even noticed he was wearing only a pair of grey flannel boxers. As he turned back into his room, I didn’t know whether to wait or follow.

Follow.

Damn, that definitely wasn’t the voice of reason. Maybe I’d scared it away.

“Here,” Bryce said, handing me something sleek and black. “This one’s yours.”

I turned the cylinder over in my hand, still unsure of what it was. Then I saw the button. I clicked it on.