I AM COMPLETELY SURROUNDED by Cam, his big body pressed against mine, his hands on either side of me gripping the counter’s edge. He’s as solid as steel, muscly and hot, and I swallow hard when I note the determined gleam in his eyes. I basically accused him of being scared of me, when I’m sure that’s the last emotion he’s feeling. How could I scare him? I’m not that important to him. Not at all.
He’s more than proven that.
Though, what was with him asking me what perfume I wear? So he can get it for his mom? Give me a break. I don’t believe that at all. But why does he care? Supposedly, we’re just friends, if I can even call us that. Meaning it shouldn’t matter what scent I wear. I don’t affect him.
Cam still hasn’t moved. He hasn’t said a single word, so feeling brave, I reach out, resting my hand against the center of his chest. His heart thunders beneath my palm, his eyelids wavering when I touch him, and I realize something.
I do affect him. Just by his minimal reaction, I can tell.
Heady power courses through my veins, and I press my hand against his chest more firmly, absorbing his heat. His strength. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t so much as twitch. It’s only when I clutch the fabric of his T-shirt in my fingers that he finally pushes away from me.
“We can’t keep doing this,” he says.
“Doing what?” Oh, don’t I sound innocent and sweet?
“Blair.” His voice is firm and full of annoyance, and he rests his hands on his hips, looking far more handsome than he has any right to be. “No more games.”
“I’m not playing any games, Camden. I was here to make my brother and his roommate a homemade meal. No other motives behind it.”
Okay, fine. That’s a lie, but whatever.
I exit the kitchen, satisfaction curling through me when he follows after me. Right now, he’s behaving like a silly boy, and even though he’s a year older than me and probably has far more experience with women and relationships, or whatever he wants to call them, I feel like I’m more mature than he is.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“Home,” I toss over my shoulder, as I grab my backpack from where I left it by the front door. “I have homework to do.”
I open the door and exit the apartment, Cam still hot on my heels. “How are you getting home?”
“Walking.” I turn to face him, both thrilled and annoyed that he followed me outside. I walked over to their place, even with the groceries. I didn’t have that much stuff with me.
“You’re walking? At this time of night?”
“It’s still light out.” I wave a hand at the pinkening sky. It won’t be light for much longer, but I don’t live that far.
“It’s not safe.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking like a grumpy badass. “I’ll drive you home.”
“Absolutely not.” I grip the strap of my backpack and start walking down the sidewalk, heading toward the street.
“Blair!” he calls after me, and I can’t help the satisfied smile that curls my lips. “Let me drive you home.”
“Only if you tell Knox,” I throw back at him, testing him. If he can’t even mention to my brother that he’s driving me home, then he’s a giant pussy.
He says nothing and I turn around to face him, watching as he taps away at his phone, then holds it up for me to see.
It’s a text thread between him and my brother, with his latest text saying:
Left to drive your sister home. Be back in a bit.
Giddiness rises up inside me, but I mentally try to tamp it down. “Fine. You can take me home.”
He smiles, and it’s like a shock to my system, pleasure rippling through me at the sight of it. He is too sexy for his own damn good, and I both hate and enjoy seeing how pleased he is at my giving in.
Like he wanted to drive me home just as badly as I wanted him to take me.
What the hell are we doing?
I follow him to his Dodge Challenger, rolling my eyes once we’re settled in our seats and he’s revving the engine. God, he’s such a show-off.
“I can’t believe you walked over here,” he mutters, as he’s backing out of the parking spot, his arm stretched out, his hand resting on my headrest, long fingers briefly tangling in my hair.
“It’s not that big of a deal. I basically live down the street from you guys.”
He tugs on the end of my ponytail, making me yelp. “You’re mouthy.”
“You like it,” I retort. “And you shouldn’t do that unless you mean it.”
“Do what?” He pulls out of the parking lot with a roar of the engine, his tires squealing.
He’s not driving that fast, yet he still manages to make a complete scene. “Pull my hair. Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”
I gulp past the sudden panic that flares up my throat. I probably shouldn’t have said that. Hopefully he doesn’t get what I’m meaning. Not that I’ve ever had a guy pull my hair or slap my ass or whatever other kinky things happen while in the midst of sex. I never thought about it enough to wonder if I’d like that sort of thing or not.
But Cam’s fingers wrapped around my hair send an automatic vision in my head of him looming over me. Intimidating.
Sexy.
Curling my hair into his fist and giving it a hard pull, yanking my head back only for him to settle his perfect mouth on mine and devour it.
A full-blown shiver moves through me at the thought.
He’s quiet long enough that the tension grows between us, in the close confines of his car, to the point of it almost suffocating me when he finally speaks.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I glance over at him to find he’s already watching me. More like he’s keeping one eye on the road while also trying to look at me, his face full of confusion. Then realization.
“You know.”
That’s all I say. And that’s all that’s said for the rest of the drive to my apartment. He pulls into the massive parking lot a few minutes later, somehow parking almost directly in front of our building, though he’s never been there before. I’m reaching for the door handle as soon as he comes to a stop, eager for once to get away from him, already halfway out of the car when he speaks.
“You into that sort of thing?”
I freeze, one leg on the ground, the other still in the car. Slowly, I turn my head to look at him. “What sort of thing?”
“Hair pulling.”
“If you were the one pulling my hair, yes.” I scramble out of the car as fast as I can, slamming the door shut and practically running to my front door. Never once looking back because how can I face him after saying something like that?
I’ve got nothing to lose, I think, as I frantically stick my key in the deadbolt and unlock it, pushing my way into our apartment. I shove the door shut, falling against it with all my weight, my backpack dropping at my feet.
Rita and Cheyenne are both sitting on the couch, watching me with confusion and concern in their eyes.
“Are you okay?” Rita asks.
Closing my eyes, I nod, trying to remember the look on Cam’s face when he asked me…
You into that sort of thing?
Yes, yes, yes! I wanted to shout at him. You can pull my hair and slap my ass all you want.
“Blair.” Rita’s voice is sharp, and I open my eyes. They’re both watching me as if I just lost my mind and they’re witnessing me falling apart. “Was someone chasing you? You’re breathing really hard.”
Cheyenne whips out her phone, her fingers poised above the screen. “I’ll call 9-1-1 right now if you want me to.”
“Put your phone away, I’m fine.” I offer them both a brief smile and push away from the door, not willing to describe what just happened to me.
“Where were you?” Rita asks me as I walk through the living room, heading for the short hallway, so I can hide away in my bedroom.
“I went to my brother’s place.”
I’m just about to shut my door when I hear Cheyenne giggle before she asks, “Was Cam there?”
I press my forehead against the door and briefly close my eyes. Damn it, she remembers our conversation. She knows.
“No,” I lie, shutting the door.
I’m on campus a few days later, at the quad by the student center between classes, grabbing something to drink. I pick up an iced white chocolate mocha from the little coffee shop that’s inside the building, constantly searching for one face in particular.
My brother’s.
Wherever Knox is, Cam is most likely with him. Those two stick together. If I see them, I’ll approach Knox like I need his help, but what I’m really doing is trying to get under Cam’s skin.
Like he’s gotten under mine.
I cannot stop thinking about him since our last encounter. Being in his car, his warm, spicy scent wrapping all around me. The gravely sound of his voice when he asked me if I was into that sort of thing. Then I remember what I said to him in response and I sort of want to crawl into a hole and die.
Embarrassing. But also liberating, if I’m being real with myself. I am so into Cam I would be willing to do just about anything he’d want me to. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to convince me.
When it comes to Camden Fields, I am just that easy.
My gaze drifts around the tables in the quad and I spot Knox sitting at a table with Cam and that big burly guy Derek, who is currently staring me up and down like he’s got X-ray vision and can see everything.
The perv.
Putting on a brave smile, I hitch my backpack higher on my shoulder and approach them with determined steps. Cam glances my way after Derek says something, his expression shifting into pure anger, and then Cam says something to Knox. Derek looks like he’d rather die than deal with the two of them.
Huh.
Knox smiles at me when I stop in front of them. “Hey, Sis.”
“Hi, Knox.” I glance at Cam. “Camden.”
“Blair.” Cam nods, barely looking at me as he gathers up his trash and shoves it into a to-go bag as he stands, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder. “I’ll see you guys later.”
He’s gone, never once looking at me.
I settle into the spot he just left, sitting directly across from my brother who asks, “What’s his problem?”
“Who knows? He always acts like he has a stick up his ass around me,” I mutter, annoyed.
Damn it, my entire plan is ruined, thanks to Cam bailing on us.
“Blair,” Knox chastises then sends Derek a dirty look, immediately shutting down Derek’s chuckling.
Clearing my throat, I decide to try my plan out on Knox anyway since it is something I should do today, which means I may as well get it over with.
“I was hoping you could help me out.” I smile at him, putting on the sweetness.
“With what?” Knox asks warily.
“I need a new laptop. Like, yesterday.” Mine has been acting up on me. I’ve had it forever and keep putting off getting a new one, but I finally have to just do it before the thing completely takes a crap on me. “And Dad said the only way I could get one today is if you go shopping with me.”
I can immediately tell Knox isn’t down to helping me. “I can’t leave campus this afternoon. I only have another—”
“Forty-five minutes until your next class,” I tell him. “Mom sent me your schedule.”
We talked last night. I called her to complain about the laptop issue, knowing she’d say I should go get a new one. I am so grateful our family has the type of money to take care of my needs when I’m in college, and I realize I’m lucky.
But here’s the deal. I don’t need Knox’s help and Dad didn’t say I needed his help either. I never even talked to our dad about my laptop. I’m just saying this because I wanted a reason to come to their table in the first place and the real person I was going to ask would’ve been Cam. But he ran off like the chicken shit that he is.
“Yeah, and that’s not enough time to go anywhere.” Knox shrugs, as if saying there’s nothing he can do.
I’m not letting him get out of this. I mean, come on. He can help his sister out for a few minutes.
“They sell Apple laptops at the campus bookstore,” I say, my smile growing. “Just come with me there, okay?”
He blows out a harsh breath, but there’s something in his gaze that’s telling me he’s changing his mind literally right in front of me. Guess he doesn’t hate the idea of going to the campus bookstore with me after all.
“Okay, but I can only stay with you for a few minutes. Then I gotta go.”
“Perfect!” I jump to my feet, noting that Knox is moving pretty fast too. “Let’s go.”
We walk over to the bookstore together, making small talk about nothing at all, my gaze constantly scanning the grounds, looking for Cam. He’s nowhere to be found.
Annoying.
Once we’re in the bookstore, we head toward the Apple section, Knox constantly looking back at the checkout counter, as if he’s searching for someone.
“Can I help you?” the Apple specialist asks me, and I launch into my speech about my crappy laptop and how I need a new one. He takes me over to the display laptops, asking me what I use it for. Knox pretends for all of two minutes that he’s interested in the conversation until he finally says, “Hey, uh, there’s someone here I know. Care if I go talk to her for a few?”
Her? Hmm.
“Yeah, go ahead.” I smile at him, startled when he leaves without another word, heading straight for the checkout counter, where a dark-haired girl is currently standing.
I choose the laptop I want and the guy tells me it will be here in the next couple of days, which has to be fine since I don’t really have a choice. He escorts me over to the register in his section, ringing me up, and I’m grateful that my parents help me out as I hand over the credit card they let me use for necessities.
I’m fortunate and I know it. My dad had a lot of success playing for the NFL when he was younger. I have distant memories of watching him play, being in the box seats and sometimes even hanging out on the sidelines. I remember watching my uncle Drew too. I’m used to the football scene. It’s pretty much all I know, which is why it makes sense that I’m crushing on Cam.
Though, really, it’s probably more than a crush. That seems like such a light and fluffy word for what I’m feeling for this man.
And he is all man. I can verify that, after having him pressed up against me last night. Oh, and a couple of nights ago too. The guy keeps telling me he’s not interested, but he doesn’t necessarily push me away either.
I hear horrible singing of a vaguely familiar country song and I glance up to see my brother basically making an ass of himself as he’s walking backward in the store, all smiles as he croaks at the top of his lungs. Knox has many talents.
Singing isn’t one of them.
I glance over at the checkout desk on the bookstore side, that same dark-haired girl standing there with a silly smile on her flushed face. Knox is completely flirting with her—in a really awkward way, but it’s still flirting.
I can tell.
Interesting.
