I forced myself to take a deep, slow breath before I walked up and kicked him in the leg. “I wasn’t watching you. I couldn’t sleep and I was staring out my living room window. I just happened to see you walking her out to her car.”

“Well, that makes sense. Not nearly as entertaining as you standing by your window hoping to catch a glimpse of me.”

All I could do was stare at him.

He winked, and damn, if he didn’t look good doing it. “Steph’s not my girlfriend by the way. We aren’t like that.”

Which meant they were most likely hooking up and there was nothing wrong with that. And maybe that was what he wanted from me with this whole date thing. Jacob would be thrilled to hear that. Mental note to self: so not telling him about this. “I’m not like that.”

“Like what?” he asked.

So he was going to make me spell it out. Of course. Why not? “I’m not like her.”

“Do you know her?”

My eyes narrowed. “I don’t just hook up with guys for fun, okay? I don’t see anything wrong with it. Totally not judging here, but that’s not me. So I’m not interested. Sorry.”

“Wait a sec. I’m confused. You’re not judging her, but you’ve made the assumption that she’s into random hook ups? That’s she’s my fuck buddy? Isn’t that kind of making a rash judgment based on assumptions?”

Damn it, he had a point. “You’re right. I don’t know if that’s what you guys are about. Maybe you’re just childhood buddies or something.”

“We’re not.” That mischievous grin was back. “We hook up every once in a while.”

I gaped at him. “I was right! Then why did you accuse me of being judgmental?”

“I was just pointing it out,” he replied, eyes twinkling like those damn stars in the sky. “And for the record, we didn’t hook up Wednesday night. Not for the lack of trying on her part, but I wasn’t feeling it.”

I remembered how the girl had looked and I wondered what red-blooded male wouldn’t have been feeling that. “Whatever. This is a stupid conversation.”

“I like this conversation.”

Shaking my head, I bent and reached for my bag, but Cam shot to his feet and grabbed it before I could get my fingers around the strap. I sighed as I held out my hand. “Give it to me.”

“I’m trying to.”

I shot him a disgusted look.

Chuckling, he stepped forward and laid the strap over my shoulder. His fingers brushed my neck, and I couldn’t stop my body from jumping at the slight touch. He stepped back and picked up the flashlight. “See? I was just being a gentleman.”

“I don’t think you’re a gentleman,” I grumbled as my fingers tightened around the strap. “But thank you.”

He swiped his notebook off the ground and we headed back to where his truck was parked, passing the now empty bench. He shone the flashlight when we hit the field, lightning our path. I guess to prove me wrong, he opened the door for me when we stopped in front of his truck. “Milady.”