Nate

“Just follow the GPS,” Nate said for the tenth time.

“I am, but this would be easier if you told me where we’re going,” Camille argued.

“I told you, it’s a surprise.”

After Camille gave up arguing with Ronnie, Nate walked her home so they could get her car for the next portion of their non-date, which was starting to feel pretty much like a real date. Nate couldn’t help noticing that Camille was the one who reached for his hand on the walk home. She also wore her new boots, smiling every time she looked down at them.

Now all Nate had to do was get Camille to Burgundy Street.

“Okay, park here,” he said pointing to a street side spot on Marigny Street.

Camille gave him side-eye but parked without argument. Nate was beginning to understand that surprises could be added to the list of things Cami wasn’t a fan of. But he didn’t care. This would be worth it. He was determined to get to know more about her. And this was the perfect opportunity.

“Now what?” Camille asked once she turned off the car.

“Follow me.”

Cami

Camille rounded the corner onto Burgundy, her hand securely in Nate’s warm one. And when she saw where he was taking her, she was grateful he was holding onto her, because shock nearly buckled her knees.

“What is this place?” she asked in awe.

“It’s NOLA’s very own Before I Die wall. I looked it up on Facebook after I saw the one in your room. And I figured since you didn’t want to write all over the perfect one in your room, we could work on this one together.”

“I had no idea this was here.”

Nate winked and pulled a pack of colored chalk from his back pocket as he led Camille toward the wall. It was massive, stretching the entire length of the old concrete building. Someone had painted it black and stenciled BEFORE I DIE . . . in bold white letters. Under the heading, thousands of statements and drawings layered and overlapped each other in colorful waves of chaos.

Camille read them as she walked up. Hike a mountain. Go back to school. Buy mom a house. Make a difference. Want to live. Go to Scotland. See the world. Have sex everywhere. Apologize. Go to the moon. Forgive myself. Save all the cats. Conquer my fears. Stop war. I want to be seen. Spread love. Find myself. Save a life.

The words flooded in. So many of them were thoughts Camille had herself. She looked over at Nate, he was already scribbling something on the wall.

Show Cami something new.

Camille walked over and stole his piece of red chalk, drawing a box next to what he’d written, and then adding a checkmark to it.

Nate grinned, pulling out a new piece of blue chalk. This time he wrote, Teach Cami that she doesn’t always need a plan.

She smirked, repeating her box and checkmark.

Nate pressed his blue chalk back to the walk and scribbled, Learn something no one knows about Camille LaRue.

Camille scrunched up her face, thinking of something clever to write. But when she looked at Nate and his gorgeous smile, all she could think about was how much she wanted to kiss him. The night he planned had been perfect, and it made her heart ache. Somehow, while she wasn’t paying attention, she’d let this boy in and he made her want everything she couldn’t have—and she’d never felt more terrified of anything in her life.

Camille walked up to the wall, but she couldn’t bring herself to write an answer to Nate’s question. As usual, he sensed her apprehension and lightened the mood.

“That was a broad question. How ‘bout something more specific. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

“I dunno . . . I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Come on! Play along. We’re being held at gunpoint and a magic portal appears. It can take you anywhere in the world. Where does it go?”

“Um . . . maybe—”

“We’re being held at gunpoint, Cami! Five, Four, Three, Two.”

“Okay, okay! Paris! My portal goes to Paris!”

Nate’s smile threatened to swallow the night sky. He nodded to the wall. “Write it down.”

Camille wrote Paris on the wall and liberation spread through her like warm honey. They spent the next twenty minutes laughing and writing all manner of ridiculous goals, wishes and dreams on the wall. Camille doubled over in laughter when Nate wrote he wanted to star in Rocky Horror Picture Show. She followed that up with wanting to be a mermaid for a day, which Nate said was hot. But at some point, their goals turned real, and Nate wrote, Before I die . . . I want to fall in love.

Camille approached the wall and wrote directly under Nate’s statement. Before I die . . . I want to stop being afraid.

Nate stood so close to Camille that their elbows touched. “What are you afraid of?” he whispered.

Camille brought her hand back to the wall and added, of my heart, to her previous statement.

Nate moved closer, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Me too.” His voice sent goose bumps racing across her skin. “Tell me something you’re afraid of, Cami.”

She shook her head. “It’s your turn.”

“Okay.” Nate faced the walk and scribbled furiously. When he finally backed away, Camille read what he’d written.

Before I die . . . I want to kiss the girl of my dreams. Her name is Camille LaRue.

Camille took her piece of red chalk and drew a box at the end of Nate’s sentence. Then she took a deep breath and added a giant checkmark. When she turned around Nate was standing in the moonlight, his face full of hope and apprehension. Camille took a step toward him, then another. Nate filled in the space that remained. His fingers lightly dancing across her jaw, drawing her lips to his.

At first his kiss was slow and timid, but the electricity it sent through Camille made her want more. She threaded her hands around his neck until she was entirely in Nate’s arms. Her feet left the ground as Nate pulled her closer, kissing her fully. Her lips parted, letting him in as her fingers finally roamed his soft brown hair. She’d longed to touch his unruly hair for so long and it didn’t disappoint. His hair was soft and full and she couldn’t get enough of feeling it slide between her fingers.

Camille exhaled the blinding bliss building in her chest. She’d never felt so desired. Nate kissed her like he thought she might disappear. And his desperation only made her want more. Maybe tonight was a dream. Maybe the spell would end tomorrow. Maybe this was all the happiness Camille would be promised. And if that was the case, she wanted to soak up every ounce of it. Camille threw herself into the moment and kissed Nate with abandon.

There was something thrilling and forbidden about kissing on an empty moonlit street. And for the first time, Camille wasn’t thinking about anything but Nate, and the feel of his lips on hers, the way their bodies fit together, the heat pulsing through her, and the pounding of her heart against his.

It was wrong. She knew each kiss was selfish and dishonest, but she didn’t care. She felt alive and she didn’t want to let go.