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“I like the thought of that.”
I unzip the plastic baggie and bite the soft white bread and turkey with cheese and mayo. “This is so good. We’ll have to thank your friend.”
“After I kick his ass.” Easton checks his watch. “Darkness will fall soon.”
“Nighttime is my favorite. I can’t wait to see the stars here. It’s one thing I hate about the city. It’s like the outside world doesn’t exist.”
“It doesn’t,” he says. “When you’re in New York, you’reinit.”
“And when you leave, it’s in you,” I add. “When I moved back to Texas, I always felt like I was playing a part.”
An admission that nearly takes my breath away.
“Like this?” he asks.
“No. When I’m with you likethis, it’s real. I was too busy trying to make everyone else happy instead of focusing on myself.”
He nods. “I understand that more than you know.”
We finish our sandwiches and Easton rests his chin on my shoulder while we enjoy the fire.
My eyes grow heavy, making me realize how tired I am. “Can we go to bed?”
“Yes,” he says, grabbing our trash and picking up everything to move it away from our tent.
He locks it in the cooler on the back of the Jeep, meeting me as I stare at the comically small tent.
“Go ahead. You first,” I say as he unzips the entrance.
Easton climbs inside and sits on the mattress pad, hunched over, and removes his shoes. He props himself up on one elbow, glancing at the little space left for me.
The flame lights his face perfectly, and I realize I’m staring.
“Your turn,” he says, patting the pad and scooting over, giving me more room.
“Fuck it,” I say, taking off my shoes, stumbling back into the tent. I fall against him, laughing.
My ass presses against his cock, and his hot breath is on my neck. He lifts the sleeping bag, covering us the best he can.
He wraps his tattooed arm around me, pulling me closer against his muscular body. “Are you comfortable?”
“Actually, yes.” I tilt my head toward him, and his mouth is so damn close. That perfect smile that’s just for me is so damn intoxicating. “You think this will work out?”
“It’s one night. We’ll survive,” he admits.
“You know that’s not what I’m asking, Easton.” My breathing grows more ragged as his thumb brushes against my cheek.
“The only thing I’m certain of is you being the end of me,” he whispers.
Temptation swirls in the air.
“Okay, trade me,” I say, reaching into my pocket and struggling to find the wadded paper. “I’m ready.”
“Oh,thisis the moment?” he says, slightly repositioning himself to grab his.
My nerves get the best of me, but I can’t wait any longer. I have to know what number rating this man gave me. I have to know if I have a chance in Hell.
“What if this doesn’t have the answer you want?” I search his face.