(Im) Perfectly Happy - Sharina Harris Page 0,2

wiped the sweat from his forehead with the bottom of his tee. “Hey, what’s that?” He jerked his head toward a small, flat package near the couch.

I pushed myself from the floor and rushed to hide the gift that was meant to be a surprise for Cameron. I slid it behind another box with my foot.

“None of your business.” I gave him a sly smile, and my voice had an edge of mystery that I knew made him curious.

“We live together now. What’s mine is yours.” He’d lowered his voice an octave in the way he knew was panty-dropping. If he didn’t drop his Barry White act in 2.5 seconds, I was liable to jump him.

He tossed me a smile that melted my insides. Cameron’s gaze drifted back to the box.

“Hey! Don’t look over there.” I stretched my arms high and waved them in the air. Cameron’s gaze went from my hands to my neck, and then lower.

I dropped my arms and covered my chest. “Quit staring at my boobs.”

“I wasn’t staring at your boobs. I was staring at your heart.”

I smiled. “Yeah. I’ve been told I have some sexy ventricles.”

Cameron pointed at me. “Stop distracting me with your boobs and your brain. Tell me, what is it?”

“Okay, I’m done teasing you. You know it’s yours. Open it.” I clapped my hands. He was so going to love my gift.

Cameron stepped over tools, boxes, and bubble wrap and headed straight for me. He grabbed me by the waist and gave me a smile that tripled my heartbeat. His six-foot-four frame always made me feel small and protected.

“What?” I licked my lips and held my breath.

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”

His warm breath tickled my neck. I shrugged in a way that I hoped looked playful. “No big deal. The condo was getting too small anyway.” Despite my playful tone, my voice croaked and my mouth twitched. I turned away to hide my conflicted expression, which I imagined made me look like a deranged clown.

I took a big gulp of air and suppressed the urge to drop my head between my knees. My lungs shrank and I inhaled and exhaled deeply until I didn’t have to concentrate on breathing again.

His strong hands stroked my cheek and traveled leisurely to graze my bottom lip. His honey brown eyes, tinged with worry, peered into mine. “You okay?”

I closed my eyes, trying to shut off the panic, and nuzzled into the warmth of his calloused palm. He didn’t ask more questions because he knew the answer: I was freaking out. Despite it all, his hands remained steady and sure.

Cam was my giant teddy bear and had always been that way since the first day I’d met him. It was summertime and I was out at a concert with my girls—swaying my hips and sipping my drink—when something had brushed against my skin and zapped me. And it wasn’t the hot Georgia sun. The source was a sight to behold—a beautiful black god built like a linebacker with large, strong arms, a thick neck, and chestnut-brown skin that seemed like it had been perfectly baked under the sun. The crooked, cocky smile he’d given me highlighted his chiseled jaw, which was covered by an expertly cut five o’clock shadow. Despite all of this, his bright brown eyes were what had drawn me in like a moth to a torch.

Despite his tall, bulky frame, he walked over with the fluidity of a panther. He asked for my name, and when he said “Raina,” there was so much intensity to it that I knew this wasn’t just going to be one night.

I smiled at this memory and kissed his hand. Firmly rooted back in the present, I was confident that I’d made the right decision.

“I’m okay.” I breathed in deeply, this time successful in feeling calm. I reached for the package and gave it to him. “Open your gift.”

“Okay, baby.” He winked, then grinned as he quickly did away with the tape and pulled the red and black jersey out of the packaging. Cam’s smile morphed into a comical “O” expression, and his eyes bulged when he saw the Sharpie marks scrawled above his favorite football player’s number.

“How did you . . . ?” His voice was unnaturally high.

“Let’s just say Mr. Jones is a fan of my show.”

“Baby.” He reverently laid out the jersey on the sofa and pulled me close. “This,” he swiped my mouth with his