THE SLOPES | shawmila

eight.

A/N: lemme just turn on the mature content warning...

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Camila felt so torn for the rest of the night. Her kiss with Shawn replayed over and over again in her head, and she found herself spacing out, smiling and blushing when she remembered the way his hands felt on her, the way he tasted.

But then there was that feeling of guilt. She'd tried to explain to him in the scene why she couldn't fall for him, and she was pretty sure he understood the promise she made, but she still felt bad.

She felt guilty for kissing him and guilty for leading him on. She told herself that this one kiss—technically a miniature make-out session—should be enough. It finally satisfied her urge for him and she could move on.

That's what she told herself, but she knew it was a lie.

She tried to act normal, surprising herself with her own skills at pretending her heart wasn't racing around him or that she wasn't daydreaming when they all watched tv. She sat apart from him, her hands in her lap, but her mind reeling, replaying their kiss.

"I saw you guys got a sled." Aaliyah and Sofia were passing a bowl of popcorn back and forth. "Was it easier?"

"Way easier." Shawn said.

"Well, yeah, anyone can sled." Sofia said.

"I fell out and got hurt." Camila confessed and they laughed. "Hey—I don't mix well with the snow, for the next vacation, let's go to the beach."

She didn't realize how that sounded until it was already out—implying it would be the four of them again next time. She wouldn't mind that, but Sofia might find that comment suspicious. Luckily, Aaliyah didn't seem to notice.

"We can go to the beach any old time." She said. "It's boring. At least here is different and exciting."

"Yeah," Shawn reached for the popcorn just as Camila did too, their fingers brushing. "It's really exciting."

Camila pulled him aside as soon as she could, her heart pounding at being alone with him, even if it was just in the kitchen. She opened the fridge, playing up that she only came in for water.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"What do you mean?" He was smirking, reaching into the fridge over her head and grabbing a water. "I'm just sitting there..."

"You keep looking at me." She knew she wouldn't know that unless she was looking back, but still.

"Excuse me?"

"Friends don't look at their friends like that."

"Okay." He took the time to uncap his water and take a sip. She waited, expecting him to say he'd cool. "But if I can't look at you, then you can't think about me."

"...Excuse me?" Camila almost choked on her water, swallowing before looking at him. "How do you know what I'm thinking about?"

"Oh, I know what you're thinking about." He took another sip of water. "I'm thinking about it too."

He walked back out into the living room, Camila remaining frozen in the kitchen, his smirk still burning in her head. Where the fuck had that sudden confidence come from? And how the hell did he know she'd been thinking about their kiss every second since? It was like he didn't even care about keeping it a secret, he seemed almost amused at how flustered she was.

Well she wasn't going to fall in. She forced it from her mind, reminding herself what was actually important as she walked back out into the living room. Their sisters could never know they kissed, they couldn't even know they liked each other. At least Camila was going to try and keep her promise.