11
When Emmett comes inside and informs everyone that the grill is out of propane, Rosalie turns to the two of us with a suspicious grin. "Could you guys go get a refill while I finish up the salads?"
We both speak at the same time.
"Why can't Emmett go?"
"Sure, come on Bella."
Wait, what?
You take my hand and pull me off of my stool. I say nothing as I follow you out to your truck. Emmett drops the tank in the back and tells us to have fun. His wink insinuates that we'll be doing other things besides getting gas.
Sometimes, I hate my friends, but sometimes I love them.
You open my door for me and give me a boost before jogging around to your side.
The drive is short and comfortable. We fill the time with small talk. You ask me if I have plans to head back to Holes anytime soon.
"We're going next weekend. Rosalie wants to camp out for her birthday, so we'll be staying at Waylon's for the weekend." Emmett's already reserved a spot at the campground close to the pits and they have showers and working toilets, so it should be fun.
You hum.
Should I invite you to come camping with me and my friends? I go back and forth about whether it would be appropriate when you pull into a spot at the gas station.
"This usually takes a while to wait for them to come and unlock the cage," you say.
You don't reach for your door and I'm about to offer to go pay when you grab my hand.
And then you do something I never would have expected.
Giant butterflies swarm in my belly when you pull me across the bench seat until I'm close enough. You lean in and softly press your lips against mine.
Shit, maybe Emmett is psychic.
