Seconds later, his jeans, T-shirt, and boxer briefs are in a heap on the deck and he’s slowly lowering himself into the hot tub. I relish the slow movement the water forces him to take, because it allows me to gaze at his naked body longer. He lets out a groan as he settles across from me.

Bracing my hands along the edge, I lean my head back and sigh. “Your friend Ted is my new favorite human being.”

A splash hits my ears, then his hands land on my body. I glance up just as Callum settles me onto his lap. I bite my lip, positively giddy at the opportunity to straddle him naked. I moan at the feel of our hot bodies against each other, our slick skin making the movement impossibly smooth. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press my forehead against his.

I close my eyes. “If someone told me the day we met that we’d eventually share a hot tub together, I would have laughed in their face.” Opening my eyes, I lean back to get a proper look at Callum. “I thought you hated me.”

He flinches. “Nikki, you know I—”

I rub the back of his neck with my hand. He closes his eyes and moans.

“It’s okay. We’re good now.”

He presses his mouth where my neck and shoulder meet. The light kisses and suckles he blesses upon that spot turn me into a whimpering fool. Seconds pass before I lean away to look at him. He stares back with that intensity that seems to come and go so easily. But this time there’s purpose in his eyes. It’s obvious in the slight furrow of his brow, in the clench of his jaw.

“Are we good, Nikki?”

“Absolutely.”

His hands fall to my waist. I shiver despite the temperature. His feathery-soft touches always do that to me. With both of us wet, my sense of touch is heightened. Every tap of his finger, every swipe of his hand on my body feels a million times more sensitive than usual.

He shakes his head. “This isn’t my idea of good.”

“Then tell me your idea of good.” I swallow his breath when I speak, we’re that close. “Please.”

He leans his face to my face, and we’re somehow even closer than we were a second ago. I’m certain he’s going to kiss me. But instead of sliding his perfect tongue into my mouth, he speaks.

“Good would be doing this with you every day. Good would be getting you to admit when you’re jealous and want only me. Good would be calling you mine.”

Digging my fingers into his shoulders, I’m practically shaking. Just when I thought we were firmly back in friends-with-benefits territory, he throws me for a loop with a statement like that.

If we’re both on the same page—if we’re both game for more—could we really make it work? Could he really give up whoever else he’s seeing casually for me? What about the festival? What about his plan to move back to Chicago?