My hair was still damp. Just like last night when I kissed him in the rain.
Something squealed. And it came from my throat. Was that me?
That kiss was so romantic. I wanted another one.
It took a little while longer to pick out clothes. Maybe I should wear a blue top, I thought as I walked to my dresser. Just because it reminds me of his eyes.
“Ugh.”
I looked down and saw that I’d stepped on my phone. I grabbed it right away, hoping it hadn’t cracked. It hadn’t.
Did he reply last night? I had fallen asleep and hadn’t checked yet. I pushed the Home button.
I gasped. There was a message from him. I opened my inbox.
I held my breath as I opened the text.
Cameron: I don’t need a ride.
Chapter 21
Kara
I blinked at the text: I don’t need a ride.
My heart fell into my stomach.
What the hell is happening?
He had sent it last night. Probably right after I fell asleep.
Did he mean he didn’t need a ride today?
I shut the voice in my head up before I started jumping to conclusions and blowing this out of proportion like I had last night. I should just ask him what he meant.
Not that he’d give me any clear answers. His answers just raised more questions on top of questions.
I sat on my bed and read his text message over and over, waiting for another one from him. As if he’d just sent it and was about to send another one. I needed him to clarify. Was it his hobby to be as unclear as possible?
Of course, there wasn’t another text coming. I typed furiously.
Kara: Okay. You need a ride tonight?
I stared at the screen, waiting. Willing him to reply. There was no sign that he’d read it. Nothing. I wasn’t sure which one was worse: if he’d read my message and ignored it or if he hadn’t read it yet.
There was a nagging and unsettling feeling in my chest that something was wrong. My intuition was telling me that there was more to his text. And the last time I ignored that intuition, I got socked in the face by a patient.
Still. Maybe my senses had dulled because I was seeing everything with my emotions. Could I still trust my intuition? How did I know it was my intuition and not just my feelings for him clouding my judgment?
I bit my lip, debating whether I should give him a call or not. I didn’t want to annoy him by being a pest.
Whoa, whoa, whoa-t?
Why was I hesitating to call him? It was just a phone call. It’s no big deal. It wasn’t like I was in a game show where I could only phone a friend once. I could phone him as many times as I wanted. Not that I would. This woman had enough pride for that. Still, he made me feel so unsure. The prick. Or was that my own insecurities getting the better of me?
Get your head out of your ass, girl. Be in love if that’s what you want, but don’t lose your head. Be practical.
What the hell was happening to me? The heart eyes didn’t fall off my face. I flicked them off.
I phoned him. I ignored my heart when it started to beat fast. But it went straight to voicemail.
A feeling of gloominess was starting to descend onto my head. I kept convincing myself that this didn’t mean anything. Nothing had changed. I’d see him on campus later. He’d probably text me later to tell me to pick him up tonight after his practice.
* * *
Later that day, I found myself looking for him in the lecture hall. I saw his teammates, but I didn’t see him anywhere. What if something had happened to him? Last night, he’d told me that there were things he wanted to protect me from.
Was it the mafia? Was he an undercover agent? An assassin? A superhero with a dark past? A fallen angel? Or maybe it was as simple as his own complicated issues?
What the hell?
Calm your tits, girl.
When I exited my last class, I walked to the water fountain even though I didn’t need a refill. He probably had something planned with his team or an appointment. Or a million other things. He had a freelancing business he was running after all. He could be having a meeting with Iron Man and Captain America. Who the hell knows?
But the thing was…why didn’t he answer my text or call me back? And why was I obsessing about this?
I was loitering, I realized, annoyed with myself. I had a mental picture of me looking like Humpty Dumpty in Puss in Boots, creeping in the background, shady as hell, spying on Puss.
Thirsty much?
But it wasn’t even thirstiness that was propelling me to the campus gym to see if he was there. It was out of concern now.
The gym was empty.
Frustrated, itchy, I lingered there, debating with myself. A picture of him lying bleeding on the floor of his house pushed me to leave campus. And following my intuition, I drove to his place.
His place looked and already felt empty as I pulled into his driveway. Still, I got out of my car, walked to his front door, and pressed the bell.
I wanted to show him I could be mature, especially after last night, so I waited for another thirty seconds before pressing the doorbell again.
He’s gone.
I worried my lower lip with my teeth. Sure, we talked last night. And he confessed some intense feelings he had for me. And I kissed him.
But there were no promises.
Calm the hell down. Holy crap, girl. You’re not even a couple yet and one time he doesn’t reply to your text and you’re freaking out? If I were him, I’d hide from you too. Man, you’re wacko.
Right, right. I was overreacting. He was just probably in the bathroom, pooping.
Suddenly, I felt a prickle at the back of my neck. I felt edgy, as if someone was watching me. I turned around.
And saw the black Ferrari parked two houses away.
It was idling. It was already dark outside. Coupled with the dark-tinted windows, I couldn’t see who it was behind the wheel.
Watching me.
My body felt cold, numb, an instinctive response when there was danger in the vicinity. I felt…scared. And when I felt scared, I got angry. And when I got angry, I fought.
I forced myself to walk down the driveway, ready to confront whoever the hell was hiding behind that tinted windshield. And then the car moved. Slowly, quietly, as if it were telling me that it wasn’t intimidated or worried about me approaching it.
It stopped for a second or two in front of me, as if sending me a message.
I’ve seen your face, and I know who you are now. Be very careful.
And then it accelerated. I watched as it disappeared around the corner.
The hair on my arms stood up. Who the hell was that?
I jumped as I heard a banging noise across the street, my heart in my throat. I let out a relieved breath when I saw Dingle Dick throw me a glare as he dumped his trash in the recycling.
Wrong bin, genius.
“Hey!” I called out, striding across to his driveway.
He eyed me suspiciously. He looked like a giant, grumpy cockroach.
“What’s up, psycho?” He leered at me. “What are you doing at my neighbor’s house?”
“You know him?”
“Of course I know him. Why? You here to suck his soul out? He said he already paid his bill. I already paid my bill, so stay off my property, will you?”
What bill?
“He said he paid his bill?”
“Well, yeah. That morning right after you left, he came here to tell me what you did to get your money back, so I better pay my bill if I don’t want the same thing happening to me. Wack job,” he muttered under his breath.
I wanted to kick his micro baby maker, but I needed information from him. I tried a sweet smile. “How did he even know you owed me money?”
/>
“He was right there behind you all the time. What’s wrong with you?”
He was?
“What did he say exactly?” I asked.
“As if you don’t know.”
“I hit my head a lot when I was a kid, so you know, sometimes I have this tendency to forget. Why don’t you remind me?”
He scoffed. “He said he knows this guy who owes you money and you phoned everyone in his life, even his dentist and the girl who does his pedicure.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is that right?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know. He came to warn me because he cares about me. He’s a good neighbor. Not that you know anything about being one.”
Idiot. He came to tell you because he was helping me. But that meant…he knew about me even before I met him that day. This was all so confusing.
He backed away a few steps. “Don’t tell me you came here to harass me next. I already paid my bill.” Then he eyed me up and down. And sneered. “You could use a little more here”—he cupped his chest—“but you’re pretty when you got makeup on. Make sure you put it on every day, eh? Just a little advice from a friendly neighbor.”
The pig. I wanted to dropkick him in the forehead, but I needed more information. I batted my lashes. “Thanks. I could sure use the advice.”
He looked pleasantly surprised. “Yeah?”
“Sure. Listen, I was supposed to meet him”—I pointed at Cameron’s house—“at his house five minutes ago. He wanted my shop to fix his vehicle, but he’s not answering the door. Have you seen him this morning?”
He scratched his head. “Yeah. Late last night, actually. He was throwing a big duffel bag into the back of his vehicle. Some tools. I asked him where he was going, but you know the guy. Tight-lipped son of a bitch. Didn’t say nothing to me. Just drove off.”
“Have you seen a black Ferrari in his driveway or just around the area?”
“No, can’t say that I did. Hey, you busy tomorrow night or any night this week? Wanna…?” He lifted his eyebrows suggestively.
Now I sneered at him. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Oh, come on. You know. Booty call. What do you say?”
I wanted to puke at his face. “You have a wife, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but she’s pregnant and…” He trailed off. He probably saw the absolute disgust on my face. His brows knitted together. He looked like a mean rotten potato.
“You’re not even that pretty,” he spouted. “Are you telling me you have the right to be choosy? Seriously? You know,” he continued, sounding irritated now, “those garden gnomes you drove over and destroyed? My mom left me those.”
I curled my upper lip at him and started to walk back to my car. “I’d be more worried about that face your mama left you with!” I called out.
I slid into my car, reversed out of Cameron’s driveway, and left Dingle Dick watching me with his jaw on the ground.
* * *
I drove home with dark thoughts about that black Ferrari. About where Cameron might have gone. About why he would leave just like that without saying anything. What about the deal he’d manipulated out of me? He had been so tenacious trying to get that deal, and suddenly he just disappeared? Either he had a house to flip, or he was running away.
Tools, Dingle Dick said. He was throwing a duffel bag and tools in his vehicle. Vehicle? What vehicle? Didn’t he tell me he only had his motorcycle? If he had another vehicle, why did he want me to drive him around in the first place?
I checked my phone again when I got home and before I went to bed. Still no text from him.
Damn, chica. He might just be gone today. He has a life and a business, you know. Tomorrow he might be back or he might even text you tonight.
But he didn’t.
Pride kept me going the whole week. He was gone. Just gone. He kept his phone off, so I couldn’t even talk to him. I left him two voicemails. After that, I was done. I wasn’t going to chase after him. The silent, arrogant prick.
It hurt as much as it confused me.
Where the hell is he? Is he okay?
Who’s driving the black Ferrari?
Why did he leave? Is he coming back?
He should have been going to classes, at least. As far as I knew, the campus policy was that after three consecutive absences, the professor can boot the student out of the class. Assuming the professor even checked attendance. If Cameron had two classes and they were only once a week, that meant he could still be gone for another couple of weeks before he was forced to come back.
Assuming he hadn’t quit college yet. What about his freelancing business? He flipped houses. He also said he worked for a friend when he didn’t have a project. Why the hell hadn’t I asked the name of it? He couldn’t just leave his responsibilities, so he had to come back some time.
I drove by his house again last night. Scared that I’d see a for sale sign in his front yard. I was putting a stop to it tonight. It was getting ridiculous already. And I felt like a creepy stalker.
I had worked at a casino for a short time before, as housekeeping. I once saw a lady playing those slot machines. She kept on inserting coin after coin, her eyes glued to the screen, hoping she’d hit the jackpot. But she never did. Her winnings never came. I felt like that lady. Hoping I’d win eventually if I just inserted more coins, but what it was doing was actually making me broke and leaving me with an empty wallet. I could keep investing my emotions in him, but I was only getting a negative in return. If he was going to leave, then why did he have to confess all that to me that night? He could’ve just left it at that. It was crueler to say all those things to me, make me hope and wish for what could’ve been between us. I hadn’t even known the guy that long. Why was I acting like I’d lost my husband of sixty fucking-till-death-do-us-part years?
This was the part I hated about myself. Once I let people in, I got attached and it was hard for me to let them go. But I tried. I had a lot of practice letting go of people who had been a part of my life before.
It was a chilly Thursday, and I was at the campus cafeteria with Tala, staring at the food menu board on the wall when I realized I’d completely missed out on my veggie lasagna.
The cafeteria didn’t have a fixed schedule for it, just as long as they served it once a week. So you had to check the menu every day.
And they had served it two days ago.
“Motherfucker! This is all his fault. I missed my veggie lasagna,” I muttered under my breath.
The girl behind the glass food display case smiled sympathetically. I noted how beautiful she was with her dark cat eyes and dark hair up in that white chef hat and wearing the white apron the culinary arts students wore. I smiled back at her and moved on.
“My psychic powers tell me something is the matter with you.” Tala frowned at me as I placed my tray on the table—I’d bought fries, a miserable half cucumber sandwich, and a cup of coffee—and took the seat across from her.
I shook my head and reached for my sandwich. It tasted exceptionally good today, but I couldn’t fully appreciate it or anything else in the state I was in. I checked my phone and found a text from Dylan.
Dylan: Rmembr when I told U that one of my many friends got U an interview! It’s really good money. Will tell more when I see you @home if interested! I know U R!
He’d mentioned it before, but I hadn’t been in the mood to listen to him then. Because it was Dylan, I was skeptical, but I sent him a quick reply just in case. I looked up and noticed Tala watching me with sad eyes.
“I feel like I’m not your best friend anymore,” she said quietly.
“What?” Shocked that she’d say this, I gaped at her.
“I know how strong you are, Kar. But you never share.”
I placed my sandwich back on the plate. “That’s not fair, Tal. I d
o share things with you.”
“Yeah, but it takes you forever to tell me what’s bothering you, and even then, the crisis has already passed, and there’s no way I could help you. You don’t want me to help you. Why are we even friends when you can’t lean on me?”
I let out an exhausted breath.
“I can see you’re tired of this. Nagbago ka na,” she said in Filipino, which if I remembered correctly meant that I’ve changed. “I have to go to class.”
“Tala…”
But she was already striding out of the cafeteria.
Feeling helpless and frustrated, I massaged the back of my neck. It hurt that she’d think that way about me, but it hurt more that she felt sad and upset because of me.
Why did every unfortunate thing start happening at the same time? If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. I couldn’t let Tala feel like this all day. I had to clear things up with her. But when I sent her a text asking if we could have coffee after our last class in the afternoon, she didn’t reply right away like she used to.
I headed to the lecture hall for my next class, feeling like a sad and depressed zombie. Tala was right, and I hadn’t even realized it.
Shit. It felt like my life was falling apart. And I wanted to blame him for all of it. I knew that couldn’t be true. But I blamed him anyway.
The sound of male laughter caught my attention as I passed the lockers near the lecture hall. My heart skipped a beat as I scanned the tall, athletic bodies of the basketball team, hoping I’d see him. But just like last week, he wasn’t there. My chest felt tight.
His friend, the campus Romeo, Caleb Lockhart, was there though. I marched up to him.
“Hey,” I said. “Can I talk to you?”
All male eyes turned to me. Including Lockhart’s. The gorgeous boy. Shiny, thick brown hair, green eyes. Tall, hot bod. Just standing there, I could tell he was charismatic.
But his face didn’t make my heart race. His eyes didn’t excite or challenge me. Not the way Cameron’s face and eyes did.
Spitfire in Love Page 19
