"Are you two you know?" Jacob pointed at us. " " I didn't get a chance to answer. Cam spun me around and kissed me, right there between the two buildings. It was no friendly peck on the lips. When our tongues touched, my bag slipped off my arm and hit the frosted ground. "Holy crap," Jacob muttered. "I think they're going to make babies."
"There's always tomorrow." I followed him. "Tomorrow's not going to change anything." "We'll see." "There's nothing to see. You're wasting your time." "When it concerns you, it's never a waste of my time," he replied."
"Fuck," he said, sliding his hands down to my thighs. "You're making this very hard to be the good guy you said I was last night." "I'm not drunk." He pressed his forehead to mine, chuckling softly. "Yeah, I can see that and while the idea of taking you right now, against the wall, is enough to make me lose control, I want you to know that I'm serious. You're not a hook up. You're not a friend with benefits. You're more than that to me." I closed my eyes, breathing heavily. "Well, that was...really sort of perfect."
"Why me?" I blurted out, and then closed my eyes briefly. "Okay. Don't answer that." The food arrived just thenYi thank GodYi and the conversation was deterred...for about two minutes. "I'm going to answer that question," Cam said, peering at me through his lashes. I wanted to face-plant my stuffed chicken. "You don't have to." "No, I think I do."
"I'll accept your apology on one condition." He folded his arms across his chest. "Anything?" "You trust me." I cocked my head to the side. "I trust you, Cam." "No, you don't." He walked over to my small table and pulled out a chair. "Have a seat." Sitting down, I tugged the hem of his shirt down as he headed back to the stove, putting the tiny skillet over the burner. "If you trusted me, you wouldn't have reacted the way you did," he simply said, cracking an egg. "And that's not me judging you or any of that kind of shit. You got to trust me that I'm not going to be an ass or freak out over that kind of stuff. You have to trust that I care enough about you."
"I'd still be nice to you if you were ugly." "Okay." A wicked grin slipped over his full lips. He bent his head down and whispered, "I just wouldn't offer you any cookies." I folded my arms and tried to ignore the close proximity of our faces. "I'm starting to think cookies is a code word for something else." "Maybe it is." He tugged on my bag again as he took a confident step back, forcing me down another step. "And just think about it. If cookie was a code word, whatever it symbolizes, it's been in your mouth, sweetheart."
My love, I'm here. I'll wait my whole life through until you're done, there in the cove at Kamouraska. Until you wash your blood-soaked hands and make your way back to me