Suddenly the smoke alarm goes off, startling us both, and we stare at each other for a moment as we breathe hard, both our mouths wet and swollen, her eyes are glassy.
I glance over at the stove. The pan she put on the burner to heat up is smoking.
“Oops,” she says, and giggles, twists out of my hold, and moves the pan. “Go get in the shower. I’m hungry.”
“I’m hungry too,” I reply, and her gaze meets mine again. She gives me a naughty grin, licks her lips, and winks. I can’t help but let out a laugh as I shake my head and leave the room.
I’ll make it a cold shower.
Chapter 7
~Cami~
“I love the Esplanade,” I say happily as Landon takes my hand and we begin walking down the paved path that loops around the waterfront of the Willamette River, giving us amazing views of the city.
“It’s a good day for a walk,” he says, smiling down at me. “Not raining.”
“Nope.” I look up at the blue sky, then fish in my purse for my sunglasses. “But it’s a little chilly.”
“We’ll warm up the more we walk,” he says.
“You know, we’ll be walking just about a block away from Voodoo Donuts,” I remind him with a grin.
“We just had a big breakfast.”
“Oh, come on, there’s always room for donuts,” I reply with a scoff. “When was the last time you had a Voodoo?”
“Oh God, it’s been a few years,” he says, and guides me to the side so we avoid a cyclist.
“Well, I say we stop in.” I pull him down the sidewalk toward the famous donut shop. “And look! No line.”
“That doesn’t happen often, especially on a Saturday morning.”
“See? Good luck.” I wink and lead him inside. “Smells good.”
“How can I possibly be hungry for this right now?” He stares longingly at a maple with bacon. He looks at me like that too. Usually he has his hands on me when he has that look on his face, and holy shit, does it make me crazy.
It was all I could do to not rip his pants off in my kitchen this morning.
“I’ll take one,” he says to the guy behind the counter, pointing at the donut, then he turns to me. “What would you like?”
“I’ll take one without the bacon,” I say. “You don’t have to put it in a bag. It won’t last that long.”
When we’re outside, I pull my phone out and take a photo of Landon biting into his ridiculously big donut, laughing at how his nose squishes up as he bites.
“If you post that anywhere, it’ll ruin my political career,” he says, his face perfectly sober.
“I’m sure there are other photos in existence that would do that more than you eating a donut,” I reply, and bite into my own treat. “Dear God, these are good.”
I glance up to find him staring at me.
“What?”
He licks his lips, then leans in and whispers in my ear, “I want to make you make noises like that.”
“Oh.” I stop walking and stare up at him, his lips, his hot blue eyes.
Dear sweet Jesus, the man makes me hot. I’ve always been attracted to him, but this is different. It’s more.
He just grins and keeps walking, and I have to hurry to catch up to him.
“Come here. Let’s take a picture.” We turn our backs to the river and hold up our donuts, but my arms aren’t long enough to get a good shot. “You take it. Your arms are longer.”
“I’m not good at the selfie.”
“I’ll show you.” I instruct him on holding the phone, and we pose for a few photos. On the last one, he leans down and kisses my cheek as he takes the photo.
“Aw, that’s cute,” I say, looking through the pictures, eating my donut, and walking beside him. “You did just fine with the selfie.”
“I learn something new from you all the time,” he says with a laugh, and takes the last bite of his donut. “Ah, the Rose Garden.” He points at the stadium and smiles. “I’ve seen many a concert in that place.”
“They changed the name, you know. It’s the Moda Center now.”
“Hmm. It’ll always be the Rose Garden to me.” Since I’ve finished my donut, he takes my hand back in his and tucks them both in the pocket of his jacket. It’s very chilly today. I can see our breath as we walk, but the sun is nice on my face, and our brisk pace helps. “What was your first concert?”
“Britney Spears.” I grin and break out in a really bad rendition of “Hit Me Baby One More Time,” which Landon joins me in, making me laugh so hard my stomach hurts.
“Wasn’t that for Addie’s birthday?”
“Yep, we were fourteen,” I reply with a nod. “We had a blast. Britney puts on a good show. She’s quite the dancer. What about you?”
“Metallica,” he says. “It was fucking awesome.”
“So you’re a metalhead? I didn’t know that about you.”
“Not really, but I love Metallica,” he replies. “I saw Springsteen, the Cure, Garth Brooks, and Madonna in that stadium.”
“I remember when you went to see Madonna! I was so mad. I wanted to go.”
“You did?”
“Of course I did. But you took Natasha What’s-her-name.” I scowl. “Bimbo.”
“Natasha was a bimbo,” he agrees with a nod. “And my seventeen-year-old self was elated.”