“Yes," he whispered, reaching out to hold my shoulders. "Just say yes. Say you'll be with me.”

Chelsea M. Cameron

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“The problem isn't that I'm uncomfortable with it, the problem is that I want it!" I yelled. It was official; I'd lost it. Oh well, I wasn't known for having a long fuse. "Are you happy? Jesus. You say something like that and then expect me to just be whatever about it. That's like teasing someone with a giant red velvet cake and then putting it in one of those glass rotating desert thingies." I wasn't my most eloquent at the moment."Does this mean I'm the cake?""Shut up, it was a metaphor.""So you want me?"So much it hurt. "Yes," I whispered. "Right now?""Yes.""Oh." Now he was the one who sounded nervous. "It's just... a surprise.""I told you I would entertain the idea.""I know. I just didn't think you'd be so enthusiastic so soon.""Hunter, I'm a virgin. Not a nun."He didn't talk for a moment."That was the sexiest thing you've ever said. God, why do you do this to me?”


“So you’re saying you do want to sleepwith me?”“Given the fact that I just took my millionthcold shower since I’ve moved in here andI have to constantly recite the GettysburgAddress and The Bill of Rights in my headwhen I’m around you? Yeah, I’d say so.Why, you want me, too?”


“What have you done to me, Missy?" he whispered, thinking I was asleep”


“You're not just doing that to impress her, are you?""Everything I do is to impress her. It's my mission in life," he said with a completely serious face, while he squeezed my knee under the table. Mom burst out laughing. "I like him," she said."Me too. I think I'll keep him," I said, taking his hand and twisting my fingers with his. "Good," he said, giving my hand a squeeze.”


“I know. And I'm not saying that this going to make up for it. I'm going to try, really try, to make you trust me again. I want you to trust me again. I want you to trust me. I just...I couldn't sleep last night without you. It was the strangest thing, being in the room alone without you. I couldn't hear you breathing, and your laughter was gone and you were gone, and it was like a part of my life was missing. A big part. I tripped going to the bathroom and banged my head. See?" HE pointed to a lovely gash on his forehead. "And then I burned my habd on the toaster oven. And then the car wouldn't start.”


“Are you Darah, Renee or Taylor? You look like a Taylor to me," he said, looking me up and down. I wasn't at my best, considering I was dressed for moving heavy objects in a blue UMaine t-shirt and black soccer shorts, and I had my light brown hair in a haphazard bun against the back of my neck. His eyes raked up and down twice, and for some reason the way he assessed me made me blush and want to kick him in the balls at the same time. "There must be a mistake," I said. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder. "That's a creative name. What do you shorten it to? Missy?”