When I make her wait an extra second, her chin dips all shy-like, and if the glow of the fire wasn’t lighting her up, I’d get to witness the way she flushes pink for me.
I hop up into the bed of Brady’s truck, a smirk pulling at my lips as I take her hand in mind, but I don’t have to haul her to me. She steps in on her own and without a moment’s hesitation.
A little hazy from the beer and a half she’s treated herself to, she looks up at me, and I lift my thumb, freeing her bottom lip from her teeth. A closed mouth giggle works its way up her throat, and she pushes up on her toes, her hands loosely locking behind my neck.
“For the record,” she repeats my earlier words with a smile. “You can kiss me anywhere you want.”
I lift a brow at her playful words, but we both know what she means.
I can kiss her when I feel like it, no matter where we are, no matter who is around, and this girl… she’ll kiss me right back.
Unable to wait any longer, I push my hood off my head and dip down, covering her lips with my own.
She smiles against my mouth, her grip tightening. Her heavy inhale has me pulling back, but not before I press my teeth into her lower lip. She chuckles, opening her eyes to meet mine.
“Anymore and this would turn into something nobody else gets to see.” I press my thumb to her throat, my pulse jumping at the wild beat of hers.
Ari grins and starts rolling her hips again, so I follow her lead, bringing my hands down until they’re tucked into the back pockets of her shorts.
We’re dancing to the upbeat music, perfect for the bonfire, but I’m not even hearing it.
She mustn’t either, because her chin falls to my chest then, her soft whispers reaching my ear as she sings to herself, but the lyrics coming from her don’t match the ones from the speakers.
She’s listening to that internal jukebox of hers, singing along to the song looping in her mind, Luke Bryan’s Play It Again, and I couldn’t agree more.
I want to relive the night with her ten times over, and then do it again. And again. It’s simple and small, but it’s perfect.
She is perfect.
Ari pulls back, so she can look up at me, the golden flecks in her eyes catching against the moonlight and reflecting against my own. It may as well be only her and me up here.
She’s all I see.
My Juliet.
Chapter 25
Arianna
* * *
Morning comes quickly and early, as it always does out here. Late fall or not, the sun beams against the mesh of tents, demanding your eyes open to appreciate the space around you.
Thankfully, last night wasn’t too late of one and that’s because pretty much every single person here plays on the team—minus the girls—so they were barely hanging on when they first arrived. The mountains, though, always offer a second wind, which they ate up, only to crash twice as hard once their buzzes wore down.
“Thank god Brady is smart and only put out half the beer last night.” Cameron yawns, flicking on the generator.
“You mean thankfully he learned from experience to hide alcohol or be ready for a sober night two?” I laugh, arranging a few logs into the dead firepit.
“That is exactly what I mean.”
Cameron gets the coffee going while I take an empty Corona box over to the pile of brush, scooping some up and tossing it over the logs to help kickstart it.
“Smart.”
I look up and over my shoulder, smiling at Noah. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He grins, looking around and coming back with the long-wicked lighter.
He crouches beside me, but hands it over, and I glide it beneath the brush, between the logs.
“Camp a lot, huh?” He watches.
“Four or five times a year, yeah. More if you count all the times we put up a tent on the sand at the beach house,” I share. “It was always funny when we’d head to the mountains because my dad would have me help him collect wood or climb the ladder to hang the towel line while Mason would be cracking eggs for my mom or helping her peel potatoes.” I pause, chuckling as I look at Noah. “Now that I think about it, they were probably afraid I’d somehow burn the forest down if I helped with the cooking.”
Pushing to his feet, he tugs me with him. “Good thing you’re learning your way around a stove then, huh?”
“Fantastic thing.” I go for the dramatics, fluttering my lashes.
Noah shakes his head with a grin, and heads for Cam. “Can I help?”
“You can.” She pushes him a few feet left, dropping a couple of Ziploc bags of already cut potatoes in front of him. “Toss them in some oil and—”
“Season them?” he cuts her off.
Cameron smiles, digging the creamer out of the ice chest. “I forgot. Bobby Flay is boning my bestie.”
“Cameron!” I laugh, and while Noah’s doesn’t reach my ears, his shoulders shake slightly, giving him away.
“Sorry, I meant dreaming of boning my bestie. Better?”
“Oh my god.” I cover my face.
“I bet that’s exactly what you’ll say.”
This time, Noah’s head falls back with his laugh and all I can do is flip her off when she turns my way. The only reason I don’t cuss her out is because she’s bringing me a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee.
“Asshole,” I whisper.
“Love you, too.” She does not whisper.
A tent’s zipper opening sounds around us and a few stragglers tumble out with wild hair and sleepy eyes, the smell of hot coffee likely the only reason they didn’t roll back over.
“Noah, my man,” a big, burly guy steps up, snagging a water from one of the ice chests. “You a jack-of-all-trades, or what?”
“He is, Georgie,” Cameron calls him by what must be his name. “The C isn’t only for captain. It’s for capable cook and considerable—”
“Cameron!” I warn and then large arms are around me.
I look up to find Brady.
He kisses my hair and finishes Cameron’s sentence like the shithead he is. “Cock.”
“Don’t encourage her.”
“I’m just speaking truths, Ari Baby. I’ve seen it in the showers,” he teases, laughing when Noah’s head snaps our way.
“That’s it, Lancaster, you’re last to hit the locker room,” Noah jokes.
“I’m good with that, brother. I love to be the last thing them reporter girls see. Makes it easier to remind them who I am when they show up ready to party later that night.”
I roll my eyes, saying hello to the guys who start to pile around the morning fire.
A few others fire up grills of their own, some passing off breakfast items to Cameron and Noah to contribute to the meal they’ve got going.
Chase and Mason emerge from their tents then, and neither climb out alone.
A small frown builds along my brow before I can help it, and I look away, confused by the numbness the sight offers.
Facing the fire, I taking small sips of my coffee, and Mason squeezes his chair between me and a guy named Hector. My brother drops his head back, giving me a pouty lip.
My sigh is playful as I climb to my feet.
Noah’s eyes flick my way, watching as I grab two cups, filling them with coffee, one with a splash of creamer, the other with a spoonful of sugar. I toss a grape at him, and he grins, going back to mixing pancake batter.
I move toward Mason, passing his off first before walking over to where Chase sits on Brady’s tailgate. He runs his fingers through his brown hair, nodding at something the guy to his right says.
As I approach, he looks up, and a grin pulls at his lips. “A spoonful of sugar…”
“Helps the nasty shit go down,” I finish his sentence, and he chuckles, slowly taking it from my hands. “Thanks, gorgeous.”
I freeze a moment, but quickly force a tight smile as I turn away. “Yep.”
With slow-paced steps, I find my cup and retake my seat, not looking up from the fi
re again after that, so as soon as Cameron announces the food is ready, I pop up, eager to help get paper products set up for everyone. Standing at the backside of the table, I adjust the trays as people shuffle down the length of it, loading their plates. I figure I’ll wait until everyone else is settled before I snag my own, but then Noah’s arms are coming around me from behind, and a plate is held out in front of me, the stack of mini pancakes steaming and fresh off the grill.
I peer up at him and he nods toward the plate, pressing into me slightly to grab a fork from beside me. He stabs it into the top one and leaves the fork there for me to grab.
“Taste.”
I do as he says, not taking my eyes off his as I bring it to my lips for a bite. The buttermilk flavor hits my tastebuds, and they come alive when a hint of something sweet follows.
My expression must give away my mouthgasm, because he grins.
“If you add a little shake of brown sugar into the batter, you don’t have to drown it with syrup.”
“Maybe I like to drown it with syrup.”
“Says the girl who likes her pot pies nice and flaky, her chicken breaded, and her cornbread with a crisp.”
I laugh, my hand coming up to cover the large bite I’ve yet to swallow. “Okay, fine. You’re right, I hate soggy food.”
“I know.”
“Just like you know you’ve hit the spot yet again. So good.”
“Good. Maybe we’ll have to add a breakfast into our menu somewhere.”
I spin, whispering, “Would this be a breakfast for dinner kind of thing or…”
His smirk is slow. “Or…”
I swat him in the chest. “Don’t make me say it.”
He chuckles and turns to help Cam when she calls him over to the stove.
After eating, everyone hangs around and chats until some people head back in their tents for a nap while the rest of us play a couple games of cards, as another handful of guys begin tossing the football around.
We spend a few hours out on a hike, showing everyone the rock pathways and the small bridge that leads to the opposite side of the mountain.
The rest of the day plays out the same, and only when the sun begins to set, Mason now on the grill, do I bend down behind Noah, who sits sipping on a beer and chatting to a group of guys.
I bring my lips to his ear, so only he can hear. “There’s a path I purposely avoided today.”
Noah tips his head a little, so he can see me, and I drape one arm over him, my fingers tapping along his chest.
“Oh, yeah?” he drawls quietly, his hand coming up to grab mine.
“Mm-hm.” I nod, pressing my forehead to his temple. “What do you say, you up for a little walk in the dark?”
Noah answers by setting his water bottle down and pushing to his feet. He slips his hand in mine, and I smile, leading our way.
We curl around the campsite, dropping lower into the trees, and weave around a small trail of rocks. Large bushes block the view, but as we get a little farther, pushing past the thin branches, there it is.
The waterfall, leading into a small pool of water, rock walls curling from left to right, closing it off from everything around it.
“Man,” Noah says, and I nod, moving closer.
This being the only area around not overlaid with treetops, the stars are visible, creating a glow around us, allowing us to trust our eyes among the darkness.
I slip my shoes and socks off, dipping my toes in the water. It’s cold, but not nearly as cold as the ocean, since we’ve only just come off of summer. A moment later, Noah’s at my side.
He steps in a little farther. “I was expecting it to be freezing.”
“Not so bad, huh?” I grin, and when he faces away, I shove him a bit, but he’s a quarterback and quick on his feet.
No more than his ankle dips in before he’s circled me completely, now positioned at my back with his arms locked tightly around my abdomen.
“What was that Ms. Johnson?” He smiles against my ear. “Your way of telling me you want to go for a swim?”
I tense, squirming in his hold as he inches me forward. “No, no, no!” I laugh. “Hell no.”
“But I thought you loved the water?” he teases.
I squeal, my calves now wet. “Oh my god, Noah, I can’t!”
“Why not?”
I push into him, trying to find some ground to use as leverage. “I don’t do water where I can’t see the bottom!”
He buries his face in my neck, and my muscles settle the slightest bit. “What if your feet don’t touch the ground?”
“What—”
Noah spins me, bends and lifts me up. In the next second, we’re waist-deep in the chilled water, clothes and all.
I scream with a laugh, hiding my eyes in his chest, my arms and legs clenching around him. Something brushes my thigh and I scream again, holding on impossibly tight.
“You are so dead. Wait until I get you in the ocean. I’m sticking crabs down your trunks!”
* * *
His soft chuckle wafts over my skin, his arms gliding along my back and keeping me close. “I’ve got you.”
“You better.”
His lips curve against my neck, and then they press there. Lightly at first but growing firmer by the second.
My legs tighten around him, my toes curling behind his back as he sucks the sensitive skin there, and just like that, the dark waters are forgotten.
My head lifts, and it’s only a moment before his follows.
His eyes, a deep midnight blue tonight, are teeming with desire, and behind that, a hopeful tenderness that reaches deep within me.
I feel it too, the invisible pull from my body to his.
My mind to his.
My heart to his?
I lean forward, taking his lips with my own.
He kisses me back with the same vigor. Our tongues tying, our deep, full breaths turning to quick, short pants, and my body begins to roll.
Noah groans, lifting us a few inches out of the water as he fights to bring us closer, his eagerness in line with my own.
“Careful, Juliet,” he warns, steeling my hips with his large, firm hands. “I’m about to lose my gentleman’s card here.”
“Could you hurry up with that?”
He chuckles into my mouth, and I push my tongue inside his, swallowing the rumble that follows. He whips us around, splashing through the water until we’re at the edge of a rock. He presses my ass against it, his hands leaving my body so he can grab hold of my cheeks, making me dizzy with his kiss.
I lean back, taking him with me, and then something glides along the bottom of my foot, and I squeal, jumping backward.
Noah tears back, eyes wide and flying across my face
“Oh my god, a fish is trying to eat me!” I yelp, scurrying farther up the rock, and as I plant my hand down once more, something tickles the tips of my knuckles. I yelp again, jumping down, only to sink up to my neck.
Noah starts busting up laughing, turns, and hauls me up on his back as he takes us to the edge.
It’s only seconds before I’m laughing uncontrollably, and as we hit the cold, dry ground, I drop back onto a tree log, my face falling into my hands.
“Ugh!” I can’t simmer myself down and Noah’s as entertained as I am. “I swear a fish sucked my toe!”
He rubs his mouth to quiet his laughter. “And your hand?”
“Okay, that might have been a leaf or something.” His head falls back with laughter. “In the moment, I was positive it was the loch ness monster!” I grin, shaking my head.
“She swims in shark waters with ease, but a tiny tadpole? Forget about it.”
I scowl at him playfully, and a small chill runs over me, the mountain breeze having rolled up over the rocks.
“We should head back, get changed.” Noah slips his shoes on, stuffing his socks into his pockets, and picks up mine.
He spins again, reaching over his shoulder for my hand, so I stand, giving it to
him. Once again, he hauls me onto his back and carries me all the way back to camp.
As we step into the clearing, a few people glance our way.
“What in the actual hell?” Brady shouts, his beer frozen at his lips.
“We fell in a pond,” I joke.
“Uh-huh, vagina first or what?” He pops a brow.
Mason slaps the back of his head. “What the fuck, bro?” He glares from him to us, but Brady simply laughs and goes back to his conversation.
Mason’s glare deepens, but I too look away, and Noah keeps moving toward the row of tents.
“Cameron is going to kill me if I get our beds wet.” I grin, tightening my hold around his neck.
“Wanna change in my truck? It’s blocked by Brady’s.” He stops walking, glancing over his shoulder. “We can walk back, ask her to get you some clothes really fast?”
My teeth clatter. “Okay.”
Despite my response, Noah keeps moving straight, his pace picked up a little more. Thirty seconds later, I’m sitting on his tailgate and he’s tearing into the cab of his truck, coming back with a pile of clothes in his hands.
“These are compression pants. I wear them under my gear when it’s cold. They might be a little loose, but they’ll fit you better than my sweats.” He sets a T-shirt and hoodie beside me, a pile of dry clothes for himself bunched under his arm.
He pushes his shoes to the side, doing a double take when I lift my arms and wait.
His brows draw together slightly, the items in his arms quickly forgotten. He lets them fall to the ground and steps toward me.
He starts at the cuff of my sleeves, gently tugging them over my wrists, and moves to the hem next. The wet material has molded to my T-shirt beneath it, so as he slowly lifts it up and over my head, it takes it with it.
My wet hair falls to my bare back then, sending a shiver down my spine, or maybe it’s the beaming approval in Noah’s gaze that does it. He doesn’t look away as he hangs my wet items over the side of his truck, nor when I lean back, my palms pressing into the tailgate, my torso stretching.
He understands, his jaw flexing with his heavy inhale as his hands find the button of my jeans.
Say You Swear Page 24