One day, Willow would realize that, too, and she’d be forced to choose. Really choose. Not just get carried away in the hot springs by a decade of longing. She’d have to choose between me and her reputation—the flying gossip and the palpable scorn. I’d bear it all for her if I could, but that wasn’t an option.

There was a reason we hadn’t gone out together in Alba much.

First, I didn’t want that shit to touch her. Ever.

Second, I didn’t have a great track record of being chosen.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked.

“You.” I brushed her hair from her face. “Always you.”

“If I stripped off all my clothes, would it potentially move you in the direction of using this incredible body?” She ran her hands down my back, and I groaned.

“If you stripped off all your clothes, there’s zero chance in hell we’d make it to opening day.” Even the best intentions had limits.

“Opening… Oh crap!” Her eyes darted to the wall. “Cam, we’re late!”

“Well, yeah.” I dipped my head and kissed her.

She laughed and pushed at my shoulders.

“What happened to you stripping off your clothes?” I teased.

“It’s opening day, that’s what!”

“So you only want me when it’s convenient to you?” I let my mouth drop in mock indignation.

“Are you saying that if I choose to forgo opening day, you’ll take me to bed?” Her eyes danced with pure mischief.

“No.”

“Ugh!” She shoved at my shoulders again, and I let her up, laughing as she sent me to the floor.

I landed on my back, thank God, so the part of me that definitely didn’t want to go to opening day wasn’t massacred.

Willow slid off the couch and straddled me. “You have the self-control of a saint,” she muttered as she reached past my shoulder to grab her shirt, which put those glorious breasts right in my face. Pale-lavender lace and creamy skin filled my vision.

“Don’t be so sure about that.” My mouth watered, and that praised and cursed control snapped. The skin of her back was softer than satin as my hands splayed to hold her in place. Then I took her nipple between my lips and sucked her through the lace of her bra.

She whimpered, and the sound drove me right to the edge. I scraped her with my teeth and groaned when she rocked her hips against me in response. The denim between us did nothing to mask the friction or the heat.

My hands moved from her back to the rounded curve of her ass. Screw opening day. I was staying right here. There were plenty of ways to satisfy her without—