wear the color green more often. It makes her sexy with that hair of hers.”
My mouth dropped open. He had so not even said that about the stupid cardigan I was wearing.
“Do you like the color green on her, Cam?” Brit asked.
Oh my God.
Cam turned to me, his blue eyes as deep as the waters off the coast of Texas. “The color looks great on her, but she looks beautiful every day.”
Heat crept across my cheeks as I let out a low breath.
“Beautiful?” Brit repeated.
“Beautiful,” Cam repeated, reclaiming what little distance I’d managed to put between us. He nudged my knee again. “So did you guys learn anything from studying?”
I let out the breath. “I think we got it.”
“Because of you.” Jacob glanced at Brit, and my stomach dropped. “Avery came up with this song to help me remember where the countries were.”
Oh no.
“Sing him your song.” Brit elbowed me so hard that I bounced off Cam and ricocheted back.
Interest sparked in Cam’s eyes. “What song?”
“I am not singing that song again.”
Jacob beamed up at Cam. “It’s the Croatia song.”
I shot him a death glare.
Cam laughed. “The Croatia song? What?”
“No,” I said again. “I am not singing again. That is so not my talent.”
“What kind of talents do you have?” Cam asked, and when I looked at him, I kind of got hung up on the cut line of his jaw, of the way his hair brushed his temples. What the hell? Cam was staring back at me, brows raised. “Avery?”
“Do tell,” Jacob coaxed.
Brit nodded. “Talents are fun.”
“They can be.” Cam’s gaze dropped, and I sucked in a soft breath. He leaned over and there wasn’t more than an inch or two separating our mouths. I heard Jacob’s audible gasp. “Tell me what your talents are, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart,” Jacob murmured with a soft sigh.
“Dancing,” I blurted out. “I danced. I used to dance.”
Curiosity filled Cam’s face. “What kind of dancing?”
“I don’t know.” I grabbed the bag of Skittles and dumped the rest of them into my palm. “Ballet, jazz, tap, contemporary—that kind of stuff.”
“No shit?” Jacob exclaimed. “I did tap when I was like six, for about a month, and then decided I wanted to be a fireman or something like that. That shit was hard.”
Brit smirked. “I tried dance and discovered I had no coordination or grace beyond shaking my ass. Were you any good at it?”
I shrugged, uncomfortable. “I took classes for about ten years, did some competitions and a lot of recitals.”
“Then you were good!” Brit said. “I bet you did all those crazy turns and tricks.”
I used to be able to do a ton of them and was at one point crazy flexible, but the thing I was really good at, had been the turns—the fouette tour—arguably the hardest series of spins in ballet.
Cam had been quiet for a few moments, a very odd thing indeed. “My sister did dance since she was around five. Still does. I think she’d cut someone if they made her stop.”
Shoving the rest of the Skittles in my mouth, I nodded. “Dancing can be addictive if you like it.”
“Or are good at it,” Brit interjected.
Cam bumped me with his shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”
I’d loved to dance—loved every part of it. The training, the rehearsing, and especially the anticipation leading up to the moment you stepped out onto the stage. Nothing felt like that moment when you waited in the wings for your name to be called; the first breath you took as you stepped onto center stage and stood under the bright lights. The quiet moment when you closed your eyes while you waited for your music to begin, knowing that everyone was focused on you.
Shrugging my shoulders, I reached for what was left of the M&Ms. “I guess I got tired of it,” I said finally. The lie was a big one. I didn’t grow tired of dancing. I missed it more than anything, but I couldn’t stand for people to stare. “Does your sister do competitions?”
He nodded. “She’s traveled all over and spent the summer at the Joffrey School of Ballet on a scholarship.”
“Holy shit,” I gasped, my eyes widening. “She must be damn good.”
Cam smiled proudly. “She is.”
Envy grew like a cancer, deep and invasive. That could’ve been me dancing at one of the most well-known training centers in the world. It should’ve been me, but it wasn’t and I needed to just deal with that.
Conversation sort of just fell apart after that, at least for me. Cam chatted with Brit and Jacob while I was lost in my own thoughts until it was time to go to class. I made plans for another study session and then said my goodbyes.
Cam followed me out in the bright sunlight and the steady, cool breeze that warned that colder weather was well on its way. He didn’t say anything as we walked over to Knutti Hall. Sometimes he did that, and I never knew or could begin to speculate on what he could be thinking during those quiet moments.
It was in that moment, as we crossed the congested street and he waved at a group standing in front of the Byrd Center, that I realized how different he was than when I saw him with the two girls earlier. It bothered me and it didn’t know why I even cared.
“Are you okay?” he asked when we stopped by the benches in front of Knutti Hall.
I squinted up at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”
He gave me a tight-lipped smile and nodded. “We still on for tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night? Oh! The astronomy assignment.” As part of our mid-term grade, Drage was making us partner up to use the Observation Center. We’d have to turn in our images the following Wednesday. “Yeah, it works for me.”
“Good.” Cam backed away. “See you then.”
I started to turn, but stopped as something occurred to me. “Cam?”
“Yeah?”
“What were you doing in the Den? Don’t you normally have class, like right now?”
His lips curved up at the corner and that damn dimple appeared. When he smiled liked that, it felt like a balloon had suddenly inflated in my chest. “Yeah, I normally have class right now,” he said, eyes a startling azure in the sun. “But I wanted to see you.”
Words left me as I watched him pivot around and hit the road, heading in the opposite direction of my building. I stood there for a moment and then turned. There was no stopping the smile that split my lips and it remained.
“Are you sure you know how to use this thing?” I asked, staring at the telescope.
Cam shot me a look over his shoulder. “What? You don’t?”
“Nope.”
“Weren’t you paying attention in class when Drage went over this and the imaging cameras?”
I crossed my arms. “You were drawing the cast of Duck Dynasty when he was going