Authors: Quinn Loftis
Into the Fae (35 page)
“A six-foot-four, blond trap that frequently practices chivalry,” she pointed out. “Sounds like a trap I would gladly fall in.”
“You have Billy, and you’re choosing to be here. As soon as I can, I’m going to choose to leave.”
“But wasn’t that ceremony about you joining The Guard?” she asked cautiously, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one heard her prying.
“Yes, well, family expectations are tricky things. Besides, that was mostly dedicating myself to the ocean. And I can say yes to that without joining anything officially. Yet.”
“Got it. Enough,” she whispered. And I heard the boys coming back. I wondered if my speech had convinced her because I hadn’t convinced myself. About Blake or The Guard. The Guard I could still take or leave, but there was nothing neutral about how I felt when I looked at Blake.
I flirted, laughed, danced, and drank until the beer didn’t taste terrible anymore. This was a night to forget about training and celebrate. I’d have the whole rest of the summer to make up for it. Even the Elders stayed and had a beer or two, but they’d left after a half hour or so. Everyone left was closer to my age, and they were in no hurry to leave. Blown away by the evening’s events, I needed to let the energy out too.
Since I’d never made it past a sip or two before, I’d been buzzed since the first cup of beer. After the second, I got dizzy, giggling and dancing around, passing out sticks and marshmallows. Blake watched me move around the circle. I saved him for last, because I felt embarrassed about what I’d done on the rocks, and I wasn’t sure what to say to him. I handed him the last stick and nudged him over to the fire.
“Um, Cami, isn’t this stick a bit short? Are you trying to set me on fire?” he asked, smiling and flashing dimples in the amber glow. My jaw dropped at his choice of words because they had a few very different meanings, given what just occurred.
I gave myself a mental whack in the head and though back to what Celeste had said. Blake was flirting with me, and I just stood there silently, frozen, and possibly drooling. I needed to get it together.
I smiled back, glad the night hid the blush on my cheeks from the thoughts he’d put into my head with just that one comment.
“Maaaybeeee,” I said, drawing out the word because let’s face it; I was so flustered I was lucky to come up with one. I took the stick back, pulled three marshmallows from the bag, and pushed them down one at a time.
I walked around to the other side of the bonfire, where only a couple of people sat. I reached my arm toward the flame, stumbling, and the marshmallows went directly into the fire, the flames way too close to my hand. Blake grabbed me immediately, and pulled me away, rescuing me again.
“Death wish tonight, Cami?” he asked, blowing out the charred treats. He ran his fingers over my arm to make sure it wasn’t burned and I held my breath until he finished. My skin was just a little warm from the brush with fire, but it had gotten positively hot by the time his inspection was done. I
pouted and licked my lips., looking longingly at the stick. “Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s go get another.”
He turned back to the edge of the clearing. I recovered my beer and followed him to the tree line, still holding the short stick with the blackened marshmallows in my other hand. He’d pulled a thin sapling from a low hanging branch, and was stripping the leaves quickly, but not fast enough for me.
Too impatient to wait, I took a bite from what I had, pulling my lips away when they burned. To cool my mouth down, I sipped from the cup in my hand, and tried not to make a face at the comment. “Beer and burnt marshmallows? Two great things that aren’t great together.” He laughed, taking the cup from my hand.
“They are, actually,” I said, licking a bit of sticky white stuff off the right side of my mouth. He watched me intently, his look even sweeter than the candy.
“Try it,” I offered, stepping forward and putting the stick to his lips. He leaned in, closed his eyes, tilted his head, and touched his lips to the same exact place where mine had been.
I breathed in, smelling the smoke from the fire in between us and enjoying the moment. Until he squinted his eyes, pursed his mouth, shook his head, and totally broke my trance.
“Way too burnt,” he said, scratching his tongue on his teeth to get rid of the taste. I loved the way he touched my face as I leaned toward him. His eyes changed again, as he stared right at me, running his fingers down my cheek, then my neck. His thumb passed over my collarbone, and then slowly, so slowly, he gripped my neck, right under my ear where I’d gotten hurt a few hours before. I closed my eyes; hopeful he would kiss me again. Burning with anticipation, and buzzing from beer, I felt no pain. Then, he stroked the skin behind my ear.
“Ouch,” I protested, before I could stop myself.
Acting quickly, I leaned up and kissed him, distracting from the worry that had crossed his face. When our lips parted, he looked more shocked and concerned than turned on. Crisis averted, I sent a silent thank you to the Universe and hoped my cut would take care of itself
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Thank you for reading this sample of CLICKS and to Quinn Loftis for sharing it.
The sequel, ECHOES, comes out June 2014.