Campus Flirt (The Campus)

When I remain frozen in place, he says, “Here, sit down and let me get you something to drink.” For the first time since he picked me up, uncertainty weaves its way through Easton’s deep voice.

I settle on one of the wooden chairs as he pulls out a bottle of white wine from the cooler along with two plastic tumblers from a paper bag. He uncorks the wine and pours one cup before passing it to me. Mind still cartwheeling, I take a sip as he grabs a glass for himself. Once he’s seated, he lifts his drink in the air.

“To old memories and making new ones.”

We both take a sip as the quietness of the night settles around us. Even though there’s a heightened level of tension swirling through the atmosphere, it’s not one that’s uncomfortable. It’s more a feeling of anticipation.

There’s a chill to the air and I’m glad Brooke suggested a hat and gloves. With the fire snapping and crackling a few feet away, I’m perfectly comfortable. My attention shifts from the fire to the handsome boy next to me. The one who has always been my best friend.

The one who now wants to be more.

Understanding dawns. “Did Brooke know about this?”

His lips lift into a smile. “I shot her a quick text before I picked you up.”

That sneaky little bitch.

Before I can ask any more questions, he reaches out and takes hold of my fingers. A zip of electricity buzzes across my flesh. His gaze drops to our clasped hands as if he feels the burst of energy as well.

“Thank you for doing all this. The wine and the fire are amazing.” No one has ever gone to such great lengths to make a date this special. No one but him could possibly know how much this means to me.

“Oh, you think this is it?” He shakes his head. “We’re just getting started. I’ve got hot dogs in the cooler and everything we need to make s’mores.”

My eyes widen. “Are you kidding?” I was content with the wine and peacefulness of the fire. This is the most relaxing evening I’ve spent in a long time. Add my favorite campfire foods from my childhood and I’m in heaven.

“Nope. Are you hungry? Want to roast some dogs?”

“Yes!” Now that he’s talking about food, I’m starving.

Easton grabs the pack of hot dogs and I set my tumbler down before hunting for a couple of sticks. After a few minutes of searching, I find two branches that are strong and straight. He spears the dogs, and we place them near the flames. It doesn’t take long before the skin is sizzling and they’re perfectly golden.

I blow on mine to cool it off and nibble at one end.

Mmm.

So good.

We each devour two before Easton pulls out the marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. We use the same sticks to stab the white sugary confection before holding them in the flames. Once the marshmallow turns golden brown, I pop it onto a cracker with a piece of chocolate until it resembles a sandwich before taking a bite. My eyelids feather closed as the sweet concoction explodes on my tongue. It takes me back to my childhood and fills me with happiness, which is exactly how I feel when I’m with Easton.

Between the two of us, we make about half a dozen s’mores. As I finish the gooey dessert, I smile at the guy next to me, feeling completely satisfied. When he asked me out on an official date, I wasn’t sure how it would go, but it’s turned out better than I could have ever imagined.

Easton leans toward me before stretching out his hand. “Come here. You’ve got a little something-something on your face.”

Oh.

Well, that’s embarrassing.

His thumb swipes across the corner of my mouth. My heart slams into my ribcage as he lifts his hand and brings it to his lips before sucking the digit into his mouth. His gaze stays locked on mine the entire time.

A groan rumbles up from his chest as he leans forward and scoops me out of the chair before depositing me on his lap. His arms slip around me as his mouth crashes onto mine. The moment his tongue sweeps over the seam of my lips, I open, allowing him entrance. The need to feel totally connected pulses through me as I pull him closer so that there isn’t an inch of space between us.

If I was worried about the chemistry or thought the other night was a fluke, those fears are laid to rest. The energy we generate is combustible. It won’t take much for it to explode. Every touch has it ratcheting up in intensity.

Just when I think I’ll go up in a burst of flames, Easton pulls away. His breath comes out in short, sharp pants. His heavy-lidded gaze falls to my mouth before his tongue darts out to lick his lips as if he’s able to taste me there.