Red Carpet Kiss - Melissa Brown Page 0,26

shirt and she arched in response to the slight sting of his fingernails grazing her skin. His mouth moved to her neck as his hands continued to climb up her back. She looked up at the starry sky, wondering where this was headed and what it all meant. Even at times like these, it was impossible for her to turn off her brain, to truly lose herself in someone else. She craved control. But with Troy, she could never quite get it. The push, the pull was always in control of both of them.

“Should we . . . head back?” It wasn’t what she wanted. But the need to control was a strong one—and a part of her personality difficult to suppress.

“Is that what you want?” Troy murmured between kisses. Her skin tingled with each kiss.

“I don’t know.”

Troy pulled back, placing both hands on her waist. “That’s not true. You know. Tell me what you want.”

Elle hesitated before telling the truth. Before risking everything. “You. I want you.”

He shook his head with a smile. “You have me.”

“Do I?” Elle narrowed her eyes, conveying her doubt with a simple glance. She didn’t just want one night with Troy. She wanted so much more than that. At least, she thought she did.

Troy nodded; his expression turned serious. He ran his fingers through her hair before running the side of his hand down her cheek. “If you only knew, Rigby.”

Relief flooded Elle and she pressed her lips to his once again, pulling him close to her, making the decision to let go of her need to control. Her hand dipped down to grip him beneath his jeans.

She murmured into his neck. “Should we go to my tent?”

Troy licked his lips before pursing them together. “Are you ready for that? I mean, I know you haven’t—”

Troy was fully aware of Elle’s virginity, but she didn’t have any intention of discussing it. Regardless of what happened after that night, she knew right then, right there, she wanted Troy to be her first.

“Shh.” She placed a finger on his lips. “I’m ready.”

They walked hand in hand back to the tent. The others had already gone to sleep and Elle realized just how long they’d been gone on their walk. Troy unzipped the flap of the tent, revealing an empty space just for them. He unzipped the rest of the flap and gestured for her to enter. The tent was warm and her sleeping bag was open and ready. She sat down on the cool fabric, removing her shirt and unsnapping her jeans. Troy zipped the flap of the tent and knelt down next to her on the sleeping bag.

“Rigby,” he whispered. “Are you sure?”

Elle nodded, pulling his shirt from his body. She ran her fingertips down his chest, enjoying the warmth of his skin on her fingertips.

“I’m sure.”

The next morning, she bristled at his touch. When he attempted to snuggle with her beneath the sleeping bag, she pulled away, explaining she needed to use the bathroom. She avoided his eyes, knowing he’d see right through her lies.

When they’d finished making love just hours before, Troy had stroked her back gently before he dozed off to sleep. And although she enjoyed herself immensely, and knew he cared for her and they were meant to be together, Elle cried herself to sleep, silent tears streaming down her face.

The truth was, she was terrified.

She wasn’t ready.

And she was a self-saboteur. The epitome of a self-saboteur.

Troy was everything she’d wanted, but she was petrified of actually having him—of actually being happy. Happiness required vulnerability—something Elle was terribly uncomfortable with, because vulnerability meant giving up control and that was something Elle just couldn’t do no matter what her heart wanted. She sobbed in the shower stall of the campground ladies’ room. When Staci attempted to comfort her, she asked her to leave.

When she returned to the campsite, Troy stood next to the deconstructed tent. Again, she avoided his eyes, not sure of what to say. She knew it was over before it even started. And she knew it was her fault.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in close. “What’s going on?”

Elle faked a smile. “Nothing, I’m fine. How are you? Did you sleep okay?”

“Rigby, c’mon. Did I . . . did I hurt you or something?” He ran one hand down her arm. She flinched at his touch and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“No, I . . .” She glanced around the campsite, worried their friends were watching the awkward interaction. “I just

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