Partially bare trees cover the old country roads on both sides, and the fallen leaves fly up on each side of us as we ride through them. The sky is blue, temperatures are perfect.
I understand why he loves his bike so much; the freedom and openness are unmatched. All the noise in my head is drowned out when I’m on it. Someday, I’m going to buy one. I’ll take lessons and learn how to ride, or maybe Camden could teach me? For now, I’m happy to be his backpack, where we can just be. I sense Camden is experiencing his own version of these feelings . . . needing to let go.
“Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he says, his voice coming through the speaker in my helmet.
“What’s up?”
“The sex last night? I said we could do it again, but—”
Oh God, please don’t change your mind.
I think quickly to convince him I won’t be a problem.
“But you want to make sure I don’t get attached? I’m not going to turn into some clingy bunny. And I appreciate you teaching me some new tricks. I don’t want to be embarrassed with the next guy—hey, you’ll keep the things I’ve told you about my relationship with Bryan confidential, right?”
“Of course.”
I exhale a sigh of relief. I trust him.
“After that engagement, the last thing I should entertain is another relationship. Like you said, we’re just having fun. Don’t worry, buddy, you’re still not my ty—”
“Whatever.” He scoffs. Whether he’s my type doesn’t matter, because he can’t be.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want me to change my relationship status on Facebook?”
Is he mad? I’m trying to reassure him I’m okay with this.
“Nope, just making sure you know it’s only sex.” His voice is clipped and cold.
I swallow hard. It’s true. This is sex at face value. No strings. It’s Camden, he’s a terminal bachelor and not someone to tangle with when it comes to feelings. I will not let another man hurt me. I’ll learn to separate my feelings from what we do behind closed doors, because I need this friendship.
“You’re a fuckboy,” I say, patting his stomach where my arms are wrapped. “Lucky for me, that’s exactly what I need.”
He laughs. “So you’re using me? I should be offended by that.” He smacks the side of my thigh.
“We’re using each other. Just ’til I get my own place, then it’s done. I’ll be gone before you know it.” Will I? The hesitation I feel is all the more reason for me to move out. We will never be a thing, the more distance I have, the better.
He’s quiet for a while and clears his throat. “I’ve given that some thought . . . You should stay with me.”
I bark out a laugh. “And you’re telling me not to be clingy?”
“Hear me out, from a security standpoint, he’s going to find out where you are.”
“He’ll discover my location eventually, regardless of where I sleep. It’s only a matter of time. And I’ll get a VPN like you have. I can’t always be on the run.”
“Yeah, but once he finds out, I won’t be there to back you up.”
I smirk. “You sure this isn’t because you want to extend your time in my pants?”
He covers one of my arms with his. “This is serious, Jordan. You need to keep yourself safe. You want your freedom back, I get that, but at least be prepared. I know how these things progress. You said he’s been texting, but I would bet anything that in a week or so he stops messaging altogether. He’s going to make you think he’s gotten over it so you come out of hiding.”
“Fine, I’ll take some self-defense classes or something.”
“Stay until you know it’s safe. In the meantime, I’ve arranged for you to borrow a car, it’ll be delivered to the house tonight.”
I huff. “Thanks. I appreciate you setting up a temporary vehicle for me. However, when it comes to where I live, that choice is mine.”
He’s being too nice. If we continue living together, will I be able to maintain our emotional separation?
He sighs, and we ride in silence. We were having fun, but now Bryan is in the center of everything, and I’m letting Camden tell me what to do. I’m irritated with him, my ex, and myself. Am I being an idiot by sleeping with Cam, losing focus on what I need to do? I don’t regret the sex, but perhaps it was a mistake. I shouldn’t bring him into my chaos anyway. “On second thought, maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
“What?”
“Sleep together . . . God, this was supposed to be a fun ride. All you’re doing is reminding me I’m some fucking victim in hiding.”
He reaches back and squeezes my thigh, and it feels different after our night together. Too intimate.
“I’m just making you aware of the risks.”
“Yeah, out of one cage and into another,” I mutter. “Which is why having sex is a bad idea.”
He flips his blinker and pulls off the road. Why are we stopping? Cam gets off the bike and climbs back on, this time, facing me. He flips the visor on his helmet so I can see his eyes and wraps his palms above both knees, clutching me tight. I’m thankful he can’t see my flushed cheeks. “Is it a bad idea for me to touch you like this?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you feel when I touch you?” He rubs my inner thighs, his fingers climbing higher and higher. My breath catches. “What’s going through your mind?”
I avert my gaze. “That we shouldn’t keep doing this.”
“I hate being lied to. So, this time when you answer, tell me the truth. What are you thinking?”
My eyes stare into his; he’s so intense. It’s as if he can see me through the black glass visor.
“I never want you to stop.” I exhale. “Your touch is . . . everything. It’s exciting, sexy, fun . . . It makes me forget about my past. I feel wanted and powerful. It’s the first time a man’s touch has felt like my decision, like I’m still in control.”
His jaw tics. “What about any of that is bad, Jordan?”
“My life is a mess. And you’re his best friend.”
“You know how I feel about messes.” He flips my visor up, exposing me. “I was his best friend. But now I’m the man who enjoys making his fiancée come on my cock . . . and she’s fucking gorgeous when she cries my name.”
I am? My breath whooshes out of me, and I’m sure he’s getting a good look at the blush burning my cheeks. His eyes crinkle with a smile, satisfied he’s hit his mark, based on my obvious physical response. I glance away. This is all a game to him, making me pink and flustered. He doesn’t understand how deeply I’m affected by his words. He can’t say those things to me and not mean them. “Don’t be a dick—”
He pries my helmet off and holds my chin in place. “You’re gorgeous all the time, but when your eyebrows push together and your mouth opens with those big brown eyes, begging me to push you over the edge . . . fuck, I’m powerless against you.”
My lips part, and memories of that night flood my thoughts. The cocky smirk on his face like he knew exactly which buttons to push and levers to pull. The rush of every time he brought me to climax. Blood surges through my veins, causing my heart to hammer. My teeth bite into my lower lip.
“Do you like the way I fuck you, Jordan?”
I can barely hear him over my pounding pulse. This has to stop. I snatch my helmet back and put it on.
“That’s what I thought,” he says.
I narrow my eyes at him but don’t deny it. My lip slides out from under my teeth, and my eyes drop to where his lips are behind his helmet. Good thing we have a barrier between us, if he kissed me right now, I’d be a goner.
I like the way he kisses and the way his hands roam my body when he does it. The way he presses the small of my back and cups my neck. I suck in an inhale and break eye contact, flipping my visor down again. Watching him leer at me like I’m his next meal is a bad idea.
He gets off the bike, then mounts it, facing forward this time. I put my arms around his waist, and we take off without saying a word. I’m so turned on and frustrated by him. He must be having the same thoughts as I am, right? A few minutes later, I can’t stand the silence. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“I never stopped.”
I groan. “Why is it so good?” Sex with Bryan never came close to the way it is with Cam. I don’t get it.
“Because our sexual chemistry is off the charts. You don’t have to be involved with someone to enjoy sex with them—we can use each other for pleasure without the romance. Friends with benefits isn’t uncommon.”
“I’d say we’re more like acquaintances-with-benefits.” That’s a lie, but I feel too pathetic to admit he’s the closest friend I have.
“We’re friends,” he says. I smile. “Stop being a brat.”
I inhale, about to retort, when music blasts through the helmet speakers and he revs the bike, shooting us forward. I wrap my arms tighter around his torso, my thighs tensing as I cling to him, and roll my eyes.
He’s not my type. He’s not my type. He’s not my type.
Across from me sits my financial manager, Robert, and my lawyer, Sean. The ride with Cam earlier today was a wake-up call. I still have business to take care of, so I can’t lose focus of my priorities. When we returned, I set up a meeting at Robert’s office to give them all the information I have at the moment.
I’m being issued new credit cards, and we’ve fixed the password issue from Bryan. I’ve cashed out some of my investments to tide me over and get money together in case I need to come up with a security deposit. The more I can pay in cash, the better. Even though Bryan’s name has been forcibly removed from my accounts, leaving a credit card trail makes me uneasy.
I can press charges and report domestic violence—but with no evidence? I’m not doing that. They’d ask why I waited until after he fired me to make the accusation. It’s a bullshit system, but I can’t risk losing any credibility.
Bryan ruined my life, not only on paper, emotionally too. But outside of the abuse, there’s not much I can charge him for. Technically, he didn’t steal any money from me. H&H’s official position on my termination was unrelated to Bryan, which we both know is bullshit. Minnesota is an at-will state, anyway. My car was reported stolen because he lied about ever switching the title into my name when he bought it.
He knew exactly what he was doing every step of the way.
He’s always been sneaky like that. He destroys people without having to face repercussions for his actions. Sure, I can put in place an order of protection, but I’d rather not attract any attention from law enforcement at the moment. Sean, my attorney, is not happy about my decision. He pinches his brow and lets out an exasperated sigh when I shake my head for the third time.
“Jordana. I strongly suggest you take my advice.”
I need to fly under the radar. If I press charges, I don’t want to know what he’d do to get me to drop them. Corner me at the grocery store, a gas station, local park—no, thank you. I want him to think I’m hiding, scared—even if it is partially true. I’ll give him a false sense of security while I figure this out. I can’t let him suspect retaliation.
“I will—when I’m ready. I promise.” I have a few calls to make first.
