He should stop staring. It isn’t polite. But he can’t help it. The way the fire illuminates her face in a soft orange glow is mesmerizing. What he wouldn’t give to be the beer bottle pressed against her perfect lips. The silence of the woods is deafening, interrupted only by the crackling and occasional pop from the fire. 

She knows she shouldn’t be here, this will only end in disaster. The signs clearly say No Trespassing  They’re agents of the law, for Christ sake. And here they are, breaking the very law they swore to uphold. But there’s something in being bad that draws her in. Being bad–being with him–she can’t help herself. It feels too right. She feels his eyes lingering on her, heat crawling up her neck.

‘Paige, I lov–’ He is cut off by a command far too harsh to have any place in their hidden camp fire world.


* Based loosely off this song (x)