Page 113 of Camp Bliss
Have I noticed?
Zach’s eyes search my face before locking with mine. I stare into his, unable and unwilling to look away.
In his eyes I see unblinking and wide-open hope.
And, God help me, I’ve never wanted to protect anything more in my life.
Moments from the last few months pass between us. His bare feet brushing against mine as we fished on the dock. Catching him staring when I walked through the camper in my pajamas. The way his breath would sometimes hitch when I ruffled his unruly hair.
Maybe I’m imagining that he’s remembering moments like these too, but I have this weird feeling I’m not.
I lick my lips. Rub them together. “Well… now that you mention it—”
The crack of his laughter startles me, but he grips me tighter before I can retreat.
I want to laugh too, but I’m too nervous.
Zach gathers both my hands between his, rubbing them absently as if to warm them. That’s when I realize they’re trembling.
Because I’m about to go there.
“H-Haveyounoticed?”
He stills, his gaze sharpening. “Noticed that…?”
Holy shit, here goes.
“That I… That I’m—” Wow. I’m really terrible at this. Why can't I just confess that I’ve been hung up on him for weeks?
“Greta—” Zach’s voice is low, like it’s coming from deeper inside him. His eyes blaze. “I’ve lived for it.”
My inhale is sharp. I tug one hand free and place it against my lips because—
Oh my God.
Why do I suddenly feel like crying?
You can’t cry now, Greta Ste. Marie!
I blink as fast as humanly possible. “Zach—” It’s just a wet whisper, but it’s also like a discovery.
His smile breaks open. His hands cup my face. “Greta.” The way he says my name doesn’t sound like a discovery.
It sounds like an answer.
His heated gaze drops to my mouth.
Oh yeah, I want him to go there again.
It would make my day.
But it could also ruin my life.
So this time, when he leans in, and his lips brush mine, I let mine have one, slow answering caress, and then I place my hand gently on his chest. I hold his gaze as I draw back.
“Hang on.”
He blinks like a swimmer coming to the surface. “Yeah?”
