Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
There’s a heavy silence after his words, but I can’t help the small thrill that runs through me. He might not be defending my honor in the traditional sense, but watching him stand up and take charge, pushing back against the teasing and assumptions—it’s hot.
“I’m sorry, you’re right. How about tomorrow we all go down to the waterfall?” Anya suggests, glancing around the group. There’s a soft, apologetic note in her voice, like she’s trying to smooth over the awkwardness from earlier.
“Yes! That sounds like so much fun,” Willow chimes in enthusiastically. “We can all pack a lunch and make a day of it.” She glances between Callum and me, offering a shrug. “Sorry, guys. I’m totally down to just have fun.”
Callum glances at me, raising an eyebrow. His silent way of asking if I’m okay with the plan. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, a softness that surprises me, and I find myself grinning as I reach over, resting my hand on his arm. His muscles tense slightly under my touch, but he relaxes almost instantly.
“I think it sounds like a lot of fun,” I reply, smiling warmly at his siblings and their significant others.
“Yay!” Anya claps her hands, her energy contagious. “Let’s get to bed so we can get an early start.”
Just the mention of bed has me yawning. It’s been a long day, full of surprises and moments I’m still trying to process. Sleep sounds good until we all stand up and Callum and I head toward the same tent.
The reality hits me like a wave. I’m about to share a tent with my husband. The closest we’ve ever been. My heart starts pounding in my chest, and my palms grow slick with sweat as I wipe them nervously on my jeans. The cool night air does nothing to soothe the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through me.
“If you want to go in and change, I’ll wait out here,” Callum offers, his voice cutting through my chaotic thoughts. He’s standing there, casually folding his arms over his chest, acting like this is no big deal.
But to me, it is.
I glance at him, and in a moment of bravery or maybe recklessness, I grin. “You’ve already seen me in my bra and panties. I think it’s okay if we change in front of each other.”
His eyes darken, the playful glint from earlier replaced with something deeper, more intense. For a second, I think he might argue or make a joke, but he just nods silently, his jaw tight, and unzips the tent.
As we climb inside, the small space suddenly feels even smaller. The walls seem to close in, not from the size, but from him. His presence is overwhelming, and every breath I take feels louder, more pronounced. The heat of his body radiates in the confined space, and I can’t help but regret my moment of boldness.
What was I thinking?
I fumble with my bag, trying to act nonchalant as I pull out my pajamas, my fingers trembling slightly. Callum moves beside me, his movements slower, more deliberate, as he tugs off his shirt. The air thickens between us, and I feel my face flush as I catch a glimpse of his broad chest, his muscles rippling with each motion.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him shirtless, but here, in this private space, it feels different. It’s charged.
I quickly turn away, pulling my own shirt over my head, suddenly hyper-aware of every single move I make. The air between us crackles with an unspoken tension, a weight that neither of us acknowledges but both of us feel. The silence in the tent is deafening, broken only by the sound of rustling fabric as we change.
When I finally turn back around, Callum is already lying down, one arm draped behind his head, eyes closed but his breathing is too controlled, too steady. He’s not really sleeping. He’s waiting.
I settle into my sleeping bag, careful to keep some distance between us, but the space is so small it’s almost impossible. The warmth from his body seeps into mine, and I have to remind myself to breathe normally, to calm my racing heart.
The quiet stretches on, thick and heavy, until I can’t take it anymore.
“Goodnight, Callum,” I whisper, my voice barely audible in the stillness.
“Goodnight, Violet,” he murmurs back, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.
I close my eyes, but sleep doesn’t come easily. Not with him lying so close. Not with the electricity still lingering between us, waiting to ignite.
Exhausted doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling. The entire night, I was hyper-aware of Callum lying just inches away, and sleep was nearly impossible. Every shift he made, every breath he took, I noticed, and it kept me on edge in a way I didn’t expect. And from the way he’s moving this morning, I can tell he’s feeling the same.