The Pucking Wrong Man: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 4)

I was propped up on one elbow, watching her, when she woke up the next morning, blinking open those crystal eyes of hers as she stared at the ceiling for a moment.

“Mmmh,” she murmured, stretching her long arms above her head.

I saw when it hit her—when she remembered all that had happened last night. Her eyes widened and she turned her head, her mouth opened in a cute little o.

“Hi, baby girl,” I murmured, admiring the blush that spread from her cheeks down to her chest.

“Hi,” she whispered, her gaze darting down to my…very erect dick.

I’d had an erection all fucking night as I’d watched her. While not comfortable, I’d gotten used to it.

I was pretty sure it was just my state of being now.

“Just ignore him, there’s no help for my dick at the moment.”

She giggled and then winced.

“Is my baby sore?” I crooned, satisfaction uncurling in my gut.

I’d told her I wanted to ruin her. Ruining her pussy was obviously the first step of that.

Her blush darkened, and she bit down on her lip shyly. “I might be out of commission today—” she began before her eyes flashed. “I mean, not that I’m expecting more!”

“There’s going to be more, baby girl,” I told her, cutting off the panic building in her voice. “There’s going to be so much more.” I watched as she softened back into her pillow, a dreamy glow in her features like my words were her happy place.

It was actually the perfect time to have the appointment that I’d scheduled this afternoon. It was going to be uncomfortable as fuck during practice tomorrow—and I might die if anyone accidentally hit my dick, but I didn’t want to wait another second to have a reminder of her on my skin.

“Do you have dance today?” I asked, wishing that she didn’t, and that I didn’t have practice and we could spend the rest of the day in bed together.

She might need some rest from sex, but there were plenty of other ways I could make her feel good and still give her sweet pussy a break.

“Yes. The only day I have off is Sunday, and even then, I might need to go in because of the Showcase.”

A shadow crossed her features at the mention of that, and I frowned. She’d been so excited when she’d texted me, but I realized she hadn’t mentioned it after that. I made a mental note to follow up with her about it—another time—when she wasn’t naked in my arms, and we weren’t both bathing in the afterglow of the perfection of last night.

“What time is it?” she asked lazily, as if she didn’t really care. I liked that, it meant I had done something right. It was how I felt, too, like all my other obligations could wait. It hit me again, the fact that I’d never felt that way about anything before. Nothing had ever been more important than hockey.

“It’s eight,” I answered, glancing at the clock.

She nodded and sighed. “I need to shower.” She rubbed at her stomach, looking thoughtful, and I admired the view of my dried cum all over her skin.

The idea of her rubbing that off made me growly. “I’d rather you not,” I said, using my most convincing voice. “I like the idea of you smelling like me all day, baby girl. Of everyone being reminded that you belong to me now.” I moved on top of her, dropping soft kisses down her neck and getting that sigh out of her that I loved. “Will you do that for me, Anastasia? Will you dance all day just like this?”

She moaned, and I savored the sound. “Well, I don’t think you want me to dance just like this,” she teased, gesturing to her current state.

I glanced at the blood I’d left on her thighs. I guess I could wipe that off. But nothing else.

Growling, I bit gently on her earlobe, causing her to inhale sharply. “What do you think? Are you going to give me what I want?”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered as I trailed a finger through her folds, which were already soaking wet.

“Good girl,” I answered, trying to ignore the way my dick had become like a fucking iron pole when she’d said that.

I brought my finger to my mouth and sucked off her taste, groaning because I loved it so much.

Fuck, I didn’t want to get out of this bed.

At least my hand would smell like her for the rest of the day.

I finally forced myself to move off her, and she pouted as I did.

“You need to rest that sweet pussy, baby girl. I’ll give you exactly what you need…later. But right now you’re going to be my good girl and get all better for me.”

Her eyes got all dreamy, like they always did when I took charge.

“Promise?” she finally asked throatily, stretching her arms above her head. I tracked her lithe lines like a man obsessed.

“Mmmh. Most definitely,” I murmured, giving her one more kiss before I helped her off the bed.

She stayed covered in my cum for the entire day at dance.

And I got a new tattoo in her honor.

So, I would call the day a win.

“Look, we need to talk about your dicks,” Logan said the next day after practice, emerging from the communal showers with a vaguely sick look on his face.

“Rookie, what the hell are you talking about?” Lincoln snapped, his face scrunched up in concern.

Logan waved his hand at Lincoln, Ari, and Walker standing there with towels wrapped around their waists.

“Enough is enough. It’s called self-mutilation. This is setting a bad example for the rest of us.”

“It’s actually called ‘symbolizing our devotion,’” Ari said, looking completely unconcerned as he whipped off his towel and began to pull on his briefs—showcasing the…unusual piercings on his dick.

Not that I was trying to look. It was just hard to miss.

“Fuck, Lancaster,” Lincoln growled, turning away from Ari’s dick. “Can you not?”

“I can’t help it,” Ari said lightly. “Maximus 5000 likes to be a free man.”

“Camden, tell them the multitude of dick decorations is too much. And really, guys, didn’t that fucking hurt? Especially you, Disney. That’s just…” He waved at Walker’s towel covered groin, keeping his eyes averted. “I mean, how did you not die?”

I was silent. I was pretty sure that the new tattoo I’d gotten in Anastasia’s honor would be “too much” in Logan’s eyes.

I mean it would probably be “too much” in everyone’s eyes.

It was just right for me, though.

It was also still very…fragile at the moment, so I’d decided on a shower at home where I could properly unwrap it and sanitize it as necessary. I’d kept Anastasia busy with my mouth, but I didn’t think me—or her—could hold out nearly as long as recommended before we needed the real thing.

“Noticed you’re a little quiet over there, Hero,” Ari drawled, and suddenly all four of them were staring at me suspiciously…still fully dressed in my practice clothes.

“And why didn’t you shower after practice? That’s a little…odd,” mused Walker. “You’re usually the first in.”

“Watching my shower habits, Disney? I think that’s the ‘little odd’ thing in this conversation.”

“He did something,” Ari announced, looking me up and down and nodding. “The question is…what?”

All of them were staring at me again, their gazes a little too close to my dick for comfort.

“Hey,” I snapped. “Focus on your own dicks. Especially you, Logan.”

“He definitely did something,” commented Lincoln, completely ignoring what I’d just said.

“It’s always the grandpappies you gotta watch out for,” Walker whisper-yelled, shaking his head.

I scoffed and turned away from the idiots.

But there was a big grin on my face as I did.

I’d once told Logan that “real men had dick tattoos.” He just hadn’t believed me.

Guess I was a real man now.

Later on, Walker walked with me out to the parking lot. He kept giving me lingering side glances, so I finally raised an eyebrow and turned to him. “What’s up, Disney?”

He scoffed, as he usually did whenever anyone but Lincoln called him that nickname. “I was just wondering if Anastasia’s going to be making an appearance at the game tomorrow, and if she’ll be sitting in the Wives’ Club. Because I’ll need to let Elaine and Emily know there will be one more in the group.

I didn’t like the sound of her name coming out of his mouth, but I controlled myself.

I considered what he’d said. I’d forgotten that Walker had hired two female bodyguards to protect Olivia at games and when he couldn’t be there. The bodyguards were both built like trucks and could squat five hundred men. There was absolutely nothing to worry about when they were around. No one was getting past those women.

They were perfect.

“Count her in,” I nodded, and he smirked.

“Getting serious?” he asked teasingly, his face growing serious when I nodded.

“She’s the one,” I said before shrugging. “I just don’t think she knows it yet.”

Walker laughed. “I know all about that,” he said. “Spoiler alert, though, we always win.” He flashed me a thumbs up before heading to his truck.

I was grinning. I was going to win this. There was no doubt.

Quickening my pace, I got in my truck and drove out of the parking lot, eager to get to Anastasia’s ballet studio and get her home.

Anastasia

The day had been a disaster. Dance practice with Dallon was a nightmare. Between his lingering hands and his constant criticisms, my mind was a mess.

I wanted to quit. This big, life-altering opportunity was in front of me.

And I wanted to quit.

I was also running late for Camden’s game. The driver he’d sent had to wait at least half an hour outside the studio as Dallon made me practice fouettés over and over again before he’d let me leave.

“I’m so sorry,” I told the driver as I slipped into the town car. I hadn’t had time to dry my hair or reapply my makeup in my hurry to get to the car, and I ran my fingers through my hair self-consciously as I glanced in the rear-view mirror. I needed to throw it up in a bun.

“Not a problem, Miss,” she said, as she shot me a bright smile.

She thankfully didn’t talk to me much during the drive. I tried to regroup and push away the stress of practice, but it was difficult. By the time I reached the arena for Camden’s game, my nerves were still frayed.

“I’ll just drop you off at the back entrance. That’s the closest route to your seat tonight,” she told me, nodding her head at a set of double doors as she pulled into a half-circle drive.

Dang. In the stress of the afternoon I’d completely forgotten that Camden had gotten me a seat with Monroe, Blake…and Olivia.

“Thank you,” I said when she’d come to a stop. Crap, I needed to tip her. I rooted around in my bag, searching for a spare dollar—anything.

“Mr. James took care of my tip,” she said gently, and I blushed, nodding and thanking her again profusely as I exited the car.

It took me an embarrassingly long time to pull up the tickets that Camden had sent me. I finally had to shove my phone at the ticket person and ask them to help.

Two seconds later, and the elderly man had pulled it up. “Have fun,” he said, giving me a grin with a set of false teeth.

“Thanks,” I said, ducking my head because a senior citizen knew more about my phone than I did.

I was just embarrassing myself left and right tonight.

Weaving my way through the crowded concourse, I searched for the entrance I needed to get to my seat.

“There it is,” I muttered to myself as I finally found the right letter.

I walked down the tunnel, the chill from the ice growing with every step I took until I’d gotten out into the stands. The countdown clock on the Jumbotron said there was only two minutes left until the game.

I’d missed almost all of the warm-ups.

Moving to the side, I watched the ice, quickly spotting Camden skating around. Ari said something to him, and I grinned as they did a fist bump. They were so cute.

The picture on the Jumbotron changed, and up popped a video of Monroe, Blake, and Olivia sitting in their seats, laughing and talking as they snacked on popcorn.

My stomach clenched. They looked perfect, effortlessly poised, and stunning.

I glanced at my reflection on the metal pole I was standing next to.

I was a mess. The messy bun I’d put together in the car defined the word “mess,” and not the sexy kind. My face was pale and drawn and makeup-less, dark circles under my eyes that made me look like a zombie.

The Jumbotron briefly flashed to someone else in the crowd before going back to the group of women. Again.

There was no way I was going to sit by them. Monroe and Blake had seemed so nice the other night, and I’m sure Olivia was nice too. But I didn’t need to embarrass myself—or Camden—in front of the whole arena by sitting there like this.

He’d understand. Right?

A hint of guilt threaded its way through my chest. He’d been so excited when he’d told me about the seats and that I’d be hanging with his best friends’ wives.

I’d just have to get to know them better later.

Besides, we’d fucked once, I told myself petulantly. I didn’t need to be sitting with the wives like this was serious.

Except, I desperately wanted it to be serious.

I thought about that “I love you” that had slipped out of his mouth. I’d been actively trying not to think about it. Because he couldn’t have meant it, right?

It was too early. He was just playing around with me.

I desperately wanted him to have meant that “I love you,” though, too.

Because I was pretty sure I was in love with him.

Heart pounding, I turned and headed back down the tunnel, finding a ticket booth.

“Can you trade this ticket for one higher up?” I asked, showing him the ticket on my phone.

The pimply-faced kid stared at me like I was an idiot. “You want to trade that ticket for one…higher up?” he repeated slowly.

“Yes, please,” I said, plastering on my dance smile because I really needed him to hurry up. The game was about to start and I didn’t want to miss any of it.

“Do you realize this is in the front row? These are the best tickets available.”

He was still talking to me like I was slow, and I took a deep breath, trying to find some patience. The crowd’s roar filtered out from the tunnel behind me, and I tapped my foot anxiously.

The ticket guy blinked a few times, and I inwardly winced at the color of his eyes. They were watery blue. Just like Michael’s.

I shot a glance around me, like he could possibly be lurking around just because someone with similar eyes was here.

I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to pay Michael off. It was a subject I kept avoiding thinking about because it made me feel so helpless.

“There’s nothing else in the lower bowl,” the boy finally said, after he’d typed on his computer for the longest minute known to man. He pushed my phone back toward me.

“The upper bowl is fine,” I said, hoping I got the lingo right. There was now a line forming behind me, and it was making me even more anxious. My phone had buzzed multiple times—and the only person who knew my number was Camden. Of course he would be wondering where I was.

The ticket guy stared at me like I was crazy, his nose scrunching up and his gaze darting around like someone needed to come claim me because I’d obviously lost my mind.

The crowd roared again, and I gritted my teeth. “Anything up there will do,” I urged.

He gaped at me for another ten seconds before finally turning back to the computer. After a few clicks, he snorted. “All I have is the top row of the upper bowl. The players are going to look like ants.”

He cocked his head as he glanced at my ticket again. “Hey, isn’t this where the players’ wives and girlfriends sit?”

“The upper bowl is fine,” I said quickly. “I’m ready any time.”

Wrinkling his nose again, he printed out the new ticket. “I can’t trade that ticket in if it’s a player ticket.” He clicked something else on his computer. “Which I’m positive it is. So, that’ll be twenty dollars.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I didn’t have twenty dollars. I didn’t have one dollar.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” a man growled suddenly behind me, slamming a twenty on the counter. “Give her the damn ticket. The game’s starting!”

The ticket guy shrugged and took the cash, and finally, I got a new ticket.

“Thank you,” I squeaked, hustling away and ignoring the stares from the disgruntled people who’d been waiting in line behind me.

I went up an escalator to the next level and then moved through the tunnel to the upper bowl.

He hadn’t been kidding. I was literally at the very top. I couldn’t really make out jersey numbers from up here.

Those other seats would have been so much better. But I was already relaxing, sitting without the pressure of sitting with the wives and constantly being shown on the screen.

It was much better just being able to watch the Jumbotron. It was like watching a movie at a theater, not as much fun as watching it live, but still good.

The cameramen loved Ari, Lincoln, Walker, and Camden, and the screen was constantly showing them. It seemed like Camden kept glancing at the stands.

But maybe that was my imagination.

I pulled out my phone. He wasn’t going to see this because he was in the middle of a game, but maybe he’d see it in between periods or something. I was pretty sure they had gone back into the locker room after each period during that first game I’d been to.

Me: I’m here. Just decided to sit somewhere else. I looked a mess after practice and didn’t want to embarrass you.

I stared at the text, deciding to add a “Kick Some Ass!” for good measure before I sent it.

The Knights switched shifts, and I watched Camden and Ari climb over the boards on the screen.

A second later, my phone buzzed. My eyes widened seeing he’d texted me back. He was playing a game!

Camden: You are in so much fucking trouble.

Another text followed after that.

Camden: Where are you? I’ll send an employee to get you.

Camden: Anastasia! I’m serious.

I frantically typed back an answer before he could send any more texts.

Me: I’m fine. Put your phone away right now!

He didn’t answer, and I settled back into the seat with a sigh, trying to relax and focus on the game.

My phone rang the second the period ended and the players left the ice.

“Just tell me where you are,” Camden purred, sounding slightly out of breath—because he was just out playing a game in front of tens of thousands of freaking people.

“Get off the phone,” I hissed. The person next to me, a wizened old grandma-looking woman, gave me a very unimpressed look.

“I’m not going down there. And you can’t make me if I don’t tell you where I am.”

There was a long pause, long enough that my heartbeat started to race.

“You’re being a brat, Anastasia,” he finally murmured in a silky, dangerous sounding, terrifying voice. “And you know what happens to brats?”

“What?” I whispered back, my clit throbbing from his sexy tone.

“They get spanked.”

With that…he hung up.

And I was left with a giant wet spot on my panties.

I was a throbbing, panting mess for the rest of the game, squirming in my seat every time Camden was shown on the Jumbotron.

An unfortunate situation when you had a disapproving grandma-type character sniffing every time you moved.

Camden played amazing.

Granted…I still knew very little about hockey, but judging by the crowd’s reaction every time he got the puck…he was on fire out there.

He didn’t text me again, and my anticipation only grew. Like there was a direct line from the game clock to my throbbing core.

Embarrassing, really.

The final buzzer sounded, and the Knights won.

The crowd went nuts, streamers pouring down from the ceiling as the team briefly celebrated before filing off the ice.

A text came in then.

Camden: Don’t move from your seat until I tell you.

Well then.

I could follow that direction. Now that the game was over and fans were pouring out the exits.

And the Jumbotron had switched from the crowd to a final score graphic.

My foot was tapping on the smooth concrete at my feet while I waited for Camden to text me.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until I was the last person in the whole fucking arena, about to get up because this was getting ridiculous.

My phone buzzed just as I was lifting off my seat to leave, find Camden, and give him a piece of my mind.

Camden: Take the blue door to the left of you, go down those stairs and then take the first right back into the stands.

I frowned, glancing around, startling when I saw there was indeed a blue door to my left. Camden evidently knew exactly where I was now.

An easy thing when you were the last freaking person left in the building.

But I could play along. Make up for the fact that I’d made him text me in the middle of the game.

Although, really, no one was making Camden James do anything.

Okay, maybe I was being a brat right now.

I followed his directions, going through the door and down the stairs, then taking the first right, a nervous thrill beating at my pulse with every step.

Until I popped out right behind the Knights bench.

Where Camden was leaning against the wall in a Knights tee and a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants, one foot propped up on the bench he’d been sitting on not that long ago.

Oh…

“Anastasia,” he said, his voice like velvet as he crooked a finger at me.

My feet had suddenly become glued to the floor, and I stared at him, pulsing heat building between my legs…

But I was also nervous. He’d been joking about the spanking thing, right? I mean, maybe no one was in the stands right now, but this was still a public place. Someone could walk in at any minute.

And what about the cleaning crew? Wasn’t it about time that they showed up?

“Baby girl, don’t make me ask you again.”

He kept using that same smooth voice…the one that made me want to drop to my knees and beg him to fuck me.

With that thought, I was able to move, walking toward him like he was reeling me in with an invisible string.

“Hi,” I gulped, once I’d gotten into the players’ bench area and was a few steps away.

Camden stayed where he was, lounging against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest, making his muscles bulge out decadently.

My mouth watered just looking at him.

“I was fined five thousand dollars tonight, Anastasia,” Camden said calmly. “Do you know why that is?”

I shook my head slowly, unable to look away from him.

“Because my girlfriend decided to trade her first row ticket for one up in the nosebleeds…without telling me. Which prompted me to pull out my phone for the first time in my professional career…during a game.”

I put my hands up, losing my breath for a second when he pushed off the wall and slowly stalked toward me.

“In my defense, it all happened rather…last minute,’ I said, my voice pitched much higher than normal as I took a step backward, one step for every one he took forward.

Which worked until I hit the wall behind me.

I trembled at the dirty smirk spreading across his face as he continued to saunter my way, because he knew that he’d caught me.

“You’re going to get two spankings for every thousand dollars I lost tonight,” he purred.

“When we get home?” I asked hopefully.

He chuckled, and the sound slid across my skin sensually.

“Absolutely not.”

Camden stopped right in front of me, his hand gently encircling my throat, his thumb rubbing across my pulse like I’d found he liked to do.

“My baby’s feeling unsettled, scared about all the new things happening to her,” he crooned, his hand slightly tightening as he spoke.

“I think the word for what I’m feeling is…independent, actually,” I hissed, unable to stop myself from…pushing him.

He laughed again and released my throat, slowly lowering himself to the bench so he was straddled across it.

“Come here, Anastasia,” he said in that same, calm voice as he patted his lap.

I stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked. He was taking this really far.

Slowly, hesitantly, I stepped closer, wondering when he was going to pull the plug on this little joke.

“Trust me,” he murmured, and some of my unease spilled away.

This was Camden, and I could trust him.

I stepped up to him, and his hand pressed gently on my lower back. Before I knew it, he was lowering me across his lap, his touch firm but careful.

This was it. This was when he laughed and pulled me up and⁠—

Camden abruptly ripped down my leggings, the icy air spilling across my bare ass.

“What—” I started to protest, squirming on his lap.

Thwack! His hand came down sharply on my backside. The sting was immediate, surprising, and a gasp escaped my lips.

“Camden!” I squeaked indignantly, struggling to get off him. His grip on me was firm, though, keeping me in place.

“That’s one,” he said calmly, his tone holding no evidence of the massive erection that was digging into my belly.

“You son of a—” I snarled, my words cut off as he spanked me again, the sound seeming to echo around the empty arena.

“That’s two.”

My face was flushed with hot shame…but something else was building between my legs…something I didn’t want to admit.

Thwack. Thwack.

“That’s four.”

My ass was on fire, and when his fingertips softly stroked against my skin right after the stinging burn….I moaned.

Spankings five and six felt like a dream. I could feel wetness building on my thighs…and I wasn’t fighting him anymore.

That was wrong, right?

“I want you to repeat something for me, before the next one. Can you do that for me, baby girl?”

“Yes,” I sighed, stiffening when his fingers pushed through my cheeks…down, down until he was sliding through the slick practically dripping out of my core.

He withdrew his fingers, and I watched him side-eyed as he sucked my juices off his fingers with a groan.

That made me squirm. I needed those fingers back.

“Brats get spanked. Repeat that, Anastasia.”

“What? No,” I breathed, but there wasn’t much fight in my voice.

Thwack.

I jumped, a soft sob ripping from my mouth as he immediately thrust his fingers inside me, pumping in and out until I was on the verge of coming.

Right before I orgasmed…he pulled his fingers out.

“Please!” I immediately begged, feeling slightly hysterical as I hovered in that painful, blissed-out state that you only felt right before you came.

Thwack.

“Say the words, Ana,” he said roughly, the first hint that he wasn’t as in control of himself as he seemed to be.

“No,” I replied sulkily, trying to get some friction on my clit by rubbing against his giant, clothed dick.

“Ana,” he said disapprovingly, halting my movements as he slid his fingers into me once more, taking me to the edge again before stilling his hand.

Tears were sliding down my cheeks, wetting his thigh as I tried to will some kind of relief.

Thwack.

“Last chance, Anastasia. I’ll let you come as soon as you say those three little words.” His voice was light and carefree, like he wasn’t tearing me apart and remaking me into a breathless, thoughtless creature that just wanted to come. “Brats get spanked.”

His hands traced down my seam, and I shivered and sobbed…and gave in.

“Brats get spanked,” I breathed, and his hand stilled.

“Such a good girl,” he rasped.

Thwack!

“That’s ten.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, his fingers were back in my pussy, thrusting in and out and rubbing against that perfect spot inside me.

My screams tore through the arena as I came, violently, the edges of my vision darkening from the force of the pleasure.

I was gasping for breath, soft cries coming out of my mouth as he slid me off his lap…and onto my knees.

“Open up, my little brat,” he growled, and I immediately obeyed, just wanting to please him.

He freed his dick from the band of his sweatpants, the tip of it grazing his belly button as it gleamed under the arena lights.

Without warning, he thrust his cock between my lips, shoving into the wet heat of my mouth.

He cupped my jaw, his eyes glittering possessively as he drove into me.

I couldn’t fit him into my mouth, not even the world’s foremost expert on deep-throating could…but I did my best.

Tears and saliva and precum were slipping from the edges of my mouth as he fucked it, his thrusts quickening as he went.

I was just along for the ride, my gaze locked on his as he slammed in one last time. “Anastasia,” he roared as his cum filled my mouth, his dick so far down my throat that I had no choice but to swallow.

Not that I didn’t want to.

I needed this man. I wanted every part of him I could get.

His breaths were coming out in gasps as he caressed my jaw and slowly pulled out.

Something red on his length caught my eye, but he pushed his still-hard dick back inside his sweats before I could see what it was, the resulting outline in his pants completely obscene.

“Just a little more,” he murmured as he scooped up the cum that was coating my chin and pushed it back in my mouth.

I was staring up at him from my knees like a lovesick fool, still completely shocked about what just happened.

Camden lifted me off the ground and into his arms. “Are you ever going to scare me like that again?” he asked, a glimmer in his eyes like he wouldn’t mind starting the whole thing over again.

Hell, I was kind of up for that too.

“No, sir,” I answered, knowing what it would do to him.

He leaned down and gave me a bruising kiss, his tongue leisurely licking into my mouth.

Camden straightened up, seeming to wince slightly as he adjusted his dick. “Let’s go home, baby girl.”

I nodded, slumping against him as he led me out of the box and down the tunnel, taking one door and then another, until somehow we popped out into the parking lot, the cold night air pricking at my skin.

As we walked, the words burst across my tongue, and it was all I could do not to say them to him.

It scared me to death, but I had to admit it.

I was in love with Camden James.