He raised his brows. "You're drunk." "Am not!" He gave me a bland look. "A drunk's famous last words before they fall flat on their face.

A sleepy smile pulled at my lips as I rolled onto my stomach, stretching my legs out and pointing my toes. The sheets slipped over my bare skin and ended up somewhere at the foot of my bed. There was either a perverted ghost in my bedroom or Cam was wide awake.

My bag hit the floor, spilling overpriced books and pens across the shiny floor. My pens! My glorious pens rolled everywhere.

Good?” Cam said. “Right?” I took another bite and nodded. “Well, I have a whole ton of them at home.” He stretched as he rolled up his napkin. “Just saying.

I want you to know that I’m serious. You’re not a hook up. You’re not a friend with benefits. You’re more than that to me.

I want to be with you.

While the idea of taking you right now, against the wall, is enough to make me lose control, I want you to know that I’m serious. You’re not a hook up. You’re not a friend with benefits. You’re more than that to me.” I closed my eyes, breathing heavily. “Well, that was…really sort of perfect.” “I’m really sort of perfect … Everyone else knows that. You’re just a little slow on the uptake.