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“You don’t ever just like, hang out?”

“Hang out?”

“Yeah, you know, like watch movies, read a book, bake cookies?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” I finish the rest of my drink in one gulp before setting it in the sink. I thankfully ate a late lunch today and I’m not in the mood for dinner. I cross the kitchen,ready to head to my room for the night before stopping and pointing at the TV. “That should be fully loaded, if you wanted to watch a movie or something.”

“Do you want to watch one with me?” I stop walking and turn to face her. A barely there blush spreads across her cheeks but her chest hardly moves, as if she’s holding her breath. Something tells me she has a harder time asking for things than she lets on. Although every logical part of me knows I shouldn’t be tempted to spend any extra time with her, the reality is that I’m not very logical when it comes to Camila. Before I can question what I’m doing, I nod my head once and slip my jacket off before sitting down next to her.

“What do you want to watch?” she asks.

“I haven’t seen anything so…” I don’t finish my sentence because she’s looking at me with wide eyes and her mouth has fallen open. She thinks I’m crazy but I’m amused. I find that I like putting that expression on her face.

After scrolling for nearly fifteen minutes, she settles on something she deems a classic and I settle into the couch. It’s deep enough that I’m able to lean back and spread out comfortably. Camila sits to my left with her legs crossed under her, and there is still more space. I forgot how comfortable this couch is. I could probably count on one hand the amount of times I’ve sat on it.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen10 Things I Hate About Youbefore.”

“Really? That’s shocking to you?”

A soft laugh bubbles from her and she looks at me. “I guess not. Taylor and I used to stay up all night on the weekends watching shows and movies. There were times we wouldn’t go to bed until my brother was getting up in the morning for one of his soccer games.”

“Did Taylor live with you?”

“Practically. Her parents were gone a lot so she stayed with us most of the time.”

“And your parents were fine with that?” I don’t know why I’m asking.

“My mom would never object to Taylor because she’s the only one my mom could get to cook with her. Which ended up working out great for me because, by the time we moved, Taylor could recreate any of my mom’s recipes. Even in our college dorm room, she could whip up a gourmet meal with just a travel blender and an easy bake oven.”

I untuck my shirt, trying to process how different we are. Here I’ve been actively avoiding getting close to anyone my entire adult life. It started with my parents. How could two people claim to love each other and end up like they did? But it didn’t stop there, the harder I worked and the more cases I saw, the more I knew I never wanted to be close to someone like that. I’ve seen people be destroyed in every type of relationship. Marriages, partnerships, and friendships. People are selfish as fuck. I want no part of that.

“I’m assuming since you haven’t seen any of the classics, you didn’t do a lot of movie nights with your bestie growing up?” Her comment pulls me from my spiraling thoughts and I answer her with a blank stare. “I’ll take that as a no.”Good girl.

Her eyes follow where my fingers brush along the edge of my jaw. When I catch her staring she blinks twice before turning back towards the TV. “I was thinking about the fundraiser this weekend,” she says. “Should we come up with a story? I mean about how we met?”

“Most people aren’t bold enough to ask.” She bites her lip, nods her head, and avoids looking at me. She almost looks defeated and now I feel like an asshole. I didn’t realize how used to not talking to people I was until someone worked so hard to talk tome. “But sure, what do you want to say?” Her eyes sweep to me now, brighter than before.

“Maybe we could say we met at a coffee shop. That’s an easy enough story.”

“I don’t go to coffee shops.”

“Oh right. Maybe we could say we met through friends.”

“Well since Jonas is my only friend…” She gives me a thin smile and I know I’m being difficult so I run my hand through my hair and say, “We’ll say we met at a bar.” She smiles at me, relieved. “Don’t sweat it anyway, the fundraiser is just going to be a lot of people who think they’re important. Something that's supposed to be for a good cause but is really just an excuse for these people to network. I’m convinced they think there’s a correlation between how much money they put up and how big their dicks are,” I say. “Anyway, good causes get the money at the expense of a lot of ass-kissing.”

“Mmm. So it sounds like something you might enjoy very much.”

A ghost of a smile crosses my face when I catch the amusement in her eyes. “Yeah, I try to avoid them when possible by just sending a check with Jonas, however, as you know…” The amusement in her eyes dies quickly and she turns her focus back to the movie.

An hourlater the main character somehow gets the entire band to play “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” while he serenades a girl, asking her to go to prom with him. In any other situation, this would be my personal version of hell. Camila stretches and yawns a few times before grabbing a pillow and setting it on the cushion between us. Her long hair drapes over the other side of the pillow and the ends brush against my leg. Myfist clenches under my jaw, and only now that I’m tense again do I realize how relaxed I had been.

After a few minutes, her eyes begin to close softly. She pulls them open again briefly before her lashes fall once more. One of my arms drapes casually against the back of the couch even though I’m feeling anything but casual. I try to ignore her and focus on the movie but I catch her lips part as her chest steadily rises and falls, and now I can’t help staring at those pouty lips.

When the credits begin to roll, Camila is thoroughly asleep and I don’t want to wake her but I also don’t want to leave her on the couch all night. For a brief moment, I contemplate carrying her to her bed.

Fuck it. The couch is comfortable enough. I walk over to a hidden cabinet and pull out a blanket. She doesn’t so much as stir when I drape the blanket over her and a few strands of hair fall on her face.Fuck, she’s pretty.This isn’t a new discovery, obviously. But there aren’t a lot of opportunities to just fully take her in. I don’t know what prompts me to but I lightly brush the hairs out of her face, my fingertips graze across her cheek, sending a light shock through my hand. I stand upright and before I allow myself to wonder what this feeling that keeps coursing through me when I’m with her is, I turn and make my way down the hall to my room.

Camila