Page 21 of Picture This

He scooted closer and reached for a tendril of my hair, pushing it off my temple. Tingles sparked across my skin at the touch of his fingertips. “That night we talked through the movie, it took everything I had to stay on my side of the couch and not kiss you.”

My breath hitched.

Noah’s gaze dropped to my mouth, and his fingers slid deeper into my hair.

Oh. My. God. Was this actually happening? I leaned into his touch, my heart galloping as he bent closer.

“Delylah, I—”

“Noah, come in.” Emily’s voice crackled as it blasted from the walkie-talkie.

My heart crashed to the floor. Don’t answer. Please, don’t answer.

Noah let out a frustrated groan, dropping his forehead to mine. For a moment, neither of us moved, like if we stayed still, she’d go away.

“Hello, can you hear me?” Emily asked.

His hand slipped from my hair, the moment broken.

Damn.

Noah picked up the walkie-talkie from beside us on the floor. He lifted it to his mouth, staring at me as he pushed the button. “Yeah, I can hear you.”

“I just heard you’re staying up there for the night. Are you serious? We have a lot going on and could use some help. We’re—”

Whatever else she was going to say was cut off, the radio only giving static.

He sighed, staring outside. His expression turned conflicted, but I knew before he moved what was going to happen. He stood and went to the chair for his jeans.

And just like that, our camping trip was over.

Chapter 6

Noah

The steady swish of the windshield wipers wasn’t loud enough to chase away the uncomfortable silence in the truck.

Delylah had been quiet ever since Emily’s radio call. She hadn’t said much as she’d packed her things and limped to the truck—I’d offered to carry her, but she’d insisted on walking. The smile I’d been drowning in earlier had disappeared.

If I could rewind time, I’d turn off that damn walkie-talkie.

Maybe it was for the best. New York was a hell of a long way from Montana.

Except the idea of not seeing her for another three years made me sick to my stomach. The thought of her bringing a guy home from the city to meet her parents made me want to scream.

“How’s your ankle?” I asked, needing to break this awful quiet as we pulled into the parking lot.

“It’s fine.” She shrugged. “Nothing an ice pack and a night alone with room service won’t fix.”

Alone. My hands tightened on the wheel.

I should have kissed her earlier. I should have fucking kissed her.

That was my shot, and I’d let it slip through my fingers.

She’d wanted me to kiss her, right? Or was I misreading this entire thing? Delylah had been flirting with me in that tent. Hadn’t she?

A single afternoon together, and I was already twisted in a knot.