by J. Kenner
For years, the slabs had stood stark white, like bones rotting in the sun. Then after a South-by-Southwest event in 2011, it was opened to muralists. After that, it evolved as a venue for taggers, with the graffiti being periodically whitewashed so that folks could start over.
Now, it was completely covered by layer upon layer of art on top of art. And Cam intended to add one more layer.
"They're about to demolish it," he said. "I'm not sure exactly when, but I read that the city council voted on it, and it's going to be torn down, and maybe part of it relocated out by the airport." He shrugged. "I guess the folks in the neighborhood don't like the crowds it draws."
"Too bad," she said. "It's pretty cool."
They started climbing until they found a slab with mostly solid colors. Mina opened her bag, found a can of white paint, and sprayed, Mina & Cam Were Here, then proceeded to spray smiley faces and little stick figures.
They both sprayed goofy images for a while, demonstrating their complete lack of artistic skill, until finally Cam took her hand and pulled her to one side. "This," he said, then very carefully sprayed Mina + Cam 4ever inside a large, red heart.
When he was done, he turned to look at her, his heart pounding because he knew he'd laid it on the line.
But her hand was pressed to her chest and her expression was wistful, and when she turned and smiled at him, his shoulders sagged with relief. At least until she stepped over to him, took his hand, and sighed.
"Forever," she whispered. "At least until they knock the place down."
Chapter Twelve
Cam sat on the edge of the bed, every nerve in his body crackling with heat and anticipation as he glanced toward the bathroom door. She was back there. Mina. And as he waited for her to come out, he couldn't help but think that he had no idea how he'd gotten so lucky to have finally won her.
But he had. She was his. His.
He swallowed, nerves tingling as he waited. He was hyperaware of everything. The buzz of the air conditioner. The silk of the bedspread. The sound of the water running in the bathroom.
And then--oh, God--the subtle click of the doorknob turning and the creak of hinges as the bathroom door opened.
She stepped out, clad in a short terrycloth robe that ended at the top of her thighs and revealed miles of perfect legs. She walked toward him, and he swallowed, knowing without seeing that she was naked underneath. That all she had to do was loosen the tie at her waist and open the robe to reveal herself to him. Her firm breasts, her flat belly, her entire body that he'd come to know so well but could never get enough of.
"I'm ready," she whispered, and he felt his cock go hard.
He nodded, his mouth too dry to speak. And when she took another step toward him and pulled loose the sash, he thought his heart might stop.
But that was nothing compared to when her hands went to the robe, and she started to pull it open. To reveal herself to him. To stand naked before him and--
Bang!
A wave of golden light burst from the robe, blinding him and knocking him backward.
And when he'd blinked enough to clear his vision, she was gone--and so was the entire apartment.
He was left standing alone among white concrete slabs, sun bleached and cracked. All except one that stood in the middle, a single phrase sprayed on it in bold, curvy lettering:
Forever only lasts until it's over.
* * *
Cam sat bolt upright, his heart pounding as the dream lingered.
Beside him, Mina blinked and rose up onto her elbow, then reached for him, her warm hand on his managing to calm him. "Hey. Are you okay?"
He nodded, forcing himself to breath normally. "Nightmare," he said, then rubbed his palms over his face. "Christ. That was--" He broke off with a shake of his head.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," he said quickly. And then he took a deep breath and tried again. "No, it was just a stupid dream."
That was the truth, wasn't it? His dream was because of what she'd said at the park. Because he'd let himself believe that they'd gotten past her fears and hesitations, and those quixotic words had snuck into his subconscious, making him fear that he'd been deluding himself.
And hell, maybe he was.
After all, she still hadn't told Darryl that they were dating. And she still dreamed of working in Hollywood.
He'd been living a lust-filled dream with her, but except for amazing and regular sex, they were right where they were when they'd started. Nothing had changed at all.
Except it had.
The little voice in his head stressed the point again. It had.
And maybe that was true. They were together, after all. They had a connection.
For all intents and purposes, they were a couple.
Hell, maybe if he brought it up again, she'd be just fine telling Darryl. After all, it wasn't as if they'd talked about it recently.
"Hey," she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. "You're really upset. You want to talk about it?"
He shook his head. "No. It just got under my skin."
"Well, come here." She lifted the sheet, inviting him back under, then spooned up next to him. "Better now?"
"Much better," he said. And he hoped like hell it was true.
* * *
"I'm not working tonight," Cam said on Monday morning as they scurried around the condo, gathering up their personal belongings and putting the place back in order for Kiki and Noah. They weren't arriving until Wednesday, but Cam wanted to clear out today so that the housekeeper could do a thorough cleaning. "Do you want to see if Darryl's up for a movie night? I could handle a wild action flick."
"Sure," she said, her voice muffled since she was on her hands and knees searching for a lost sock under the bed. "Come on, you," she muttered. "Show yourself."
Cam pressed his palm to his mouth to stifle a laugh, then leaned against the wall and watched her. He wanted to capture each and every memory. Because as much as the sex was great--and it was--these were the moments that he truly cherished. The little things that filled the days and made him smile.
The way she talked to herself when she gathered her clothes, which were inevitably scattered across the house. The way she hummed when she brushed her teeth, classical music on the weekends, and The Beatles during the week.
And he definitely loved the way she leaned casually against him as she waited for the bread to pop out of the toaster.
Real stuff. Real life.
That's what he wanted to wrap a bow around and keep forever, and that was what her comment at the park and the later dream had made him fear he was losing. The entirety of the woman he loved, not the girl he slept with. The nitty-gritty. Every tiny, unexplored piece that he could spend a lifetime discovering.
That's what he wanted--and he hoped she felt the same way. Because he couldn't stay hidden any longer. He wanted her. He wanted them. All weekend he'd had to censor his conversations at work, being careful not to reveal who'd he'd been with. And, dammit, he'd hated it.
He wanted to be a couple. For now and, God willing, forever.
He just hoped that when he told her as much he'd get his wish--and not one hell of a kick in the balls.
Chapter Thirteen
Mina had searched every square inch of the condo, and was certain she'd found every stray piece of clothing she'd misplaced over their long weekend in luxury. Which meant that she no longer had any reason for staying well-below Cam's eye level.
And since he was off the clock until Friday, he was no longer working crazy hours and dealing with managerial responsibilities. Any knotty problems she threw at him wouldn't be one more burden piled on an already challenging day.
In other words, Mina was all out of excuses.
She really wished she weren't. Because the talk they needed to have wasn't a talk she wanted to have. But Wednesday was coming up fast, and she was running out of time.
Dammit.
Her Los Angeles dream job h
ad landed in her lap in the form of her new boss's outgoing personal assistant calling on Sunday afternoon to offer her the pie-in-the-sky job she'd applied for a full three months ago. Hollywood. The Holy Grail she'd dreamt about forever. The Shangri-La where her classmates were making films and building careers.
As far as Mina was concerned, she was at the center of a full-blown miracle, and the one person she wanted to share her news with was the one person who wouldn't want to hear it. Which was why she'd ended up calling Lydia instead.
How could good news feel so damn bad?
And how was she ever going to work up the courage to tell him?
"Are you planning on doing yoga or something?" Cam asked, a tease in his voice. "Because you've been on your knees on the floor now for at least fifteen minutes."
She lifted her head, giving him a wry look. "Maybe."
He grinned and reached a hand down to help her up.
"Listen," they both said at the same time, then laughed.
Since she was getting good at avoidance, she motioned for him to go first.
"If Darryl's up for watching a movie, I think we should bite the bullet and tell him we're dating," Cam said. "I'm tired of pretending like we're just friends." He moved closer, then gripped her upper arms. "Aren't you?"
She nodded. No matter what she still had to tell him, that wasn't a lie.
"After that, we can just let people figure it out. We don't need an engraved announcement."
"No." Her voice cracked. "No, we don't. But I..."
She trailed off, hating the words she had to say.
"What?"
"It's just that I don't really want to do movie night tonight."
"Oh. Okay."
"Oh, fuck." The word burst out of her, as harsh as cannon fire. She was such a damn coward.
"Mina? What--"
"I don't know how to tell you this," she blurted. "And if I don't spit it out, I'm never going to say it. I got a job in LA. An amazing freaking job. And I'm going to take it." She drew a breath as she glanced at his face, but she couldn't read a thing on it. His expression had gone completely blank.
"I see. Well, congratulations." His forehead creased and his lips moved, as if trying to form either words or a frown and not managing either. Then he walked toward the window, giving her his back.
She took a step toward him, but didn't go any closer. "Cam, please. Can't we talk about this?"
When he turned toward her, she saw the flash of anger before he smothered it, his features once again turning bland. "Sounds like the time for talking is past. From where I'm standing, this sounds like a done deal."
She said nothing.
His shoulders drooped. "How long have you known?"
"I got the call on Sunday when you were at The Fix. It's a big deal, Cam, them calling me on a Sunday. It's not a hire through Human Resources. I'm going to be a personal assistant to one of the studio's top execs."
"Fetching his coffee and picking up his dry cleaning. Sounds like exactly what you want."
"That's not fair."
"Probably not," he agreed, then cupped his hands on his head as he faced the floor. He looked back up again a moment later, his eyes narrow. "You knew before we went to Graffiti Park. You told Lydia before you told me."
She nodded.
"And you've already accepted?"
"It was too good to pass up."
He didn't respond to that. Instead, he asked, "And the job here? You're just blowing them off." He didn't say, The way you're blowing me off, but she heard it anyway.
"I'm going to go talk to them tomorrow morning. I want to tell them in person. I don't want to burn any bridges."
"No, you wouldn't want that."
"Cam," she began, but he cut her off with a sharp glance. She wished she could flip a switch and make him understand how amazing this was. This incredible job that she got on her own. Without her father or her brother or anyone pulling strings for her or stepping in as her safety net. Just her and her resume and the skill she brought to the table.
"How long before you go?"
Her stomach twisted. This felt like a job interview. Or a police interrogation.
"My plane leaves Wednesday morning."
She saw the impact of her words reflect on his face.
"You're blowing off The Fix? The contest? You're not even going to say hello to Kiki?"
"I didn't set the time frame," she protested.
"No, you didn't have anything to do with any of this."
She said nothing. His words were true, but they hurt.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then took a breath. And when he took a single step toward her, she felt her heart fill with hope. "Baby, why didn't you tell me?"
"Because they needed an answer right away. Because it's my dream job. Because I knew you wouldn't be happy for me. And because as much as I want the job, I don't want to leave you." She brushed away a tear, hating herself for crying.
His expression was gentle, but when he spoke the words sliced through her. "So your dream job has less responsibility than the one you have here?"
"You have no idea what responsibilities the job has."
"I may not work in your industry, but I'm not an idiot. And I know that dry cleaning and coffee isn't even close to an exaggeration. What happened to development? To being on the front lines?"
A hot wire of anger shot through her. "Don't tell me what job I want."
"I'm not. You're the one who's been telling me and Darryl for years. But you're not looking at the job. If you were, you'd see that you already had the dream job. You're just looking at the location."
"Hollywood? A studio job? Hell, yeah, I'm looking at the location. And you know what? You should, too."
"I should--what? What are you talking about?"
"You're laying this all at my feet, but you're not exactly tied to Austin. Kiki lives part time in LA, right? And you don't have a job yet. But you're making this all about me leaving you. Why don't we make it about you coming with me?"
It should have occurred to her before, but she'd been so wrapped up in the horror of leaving him that she hadn't thought it out. But it made perfect sense, and she told him so, relief flooding through her at having found a solution.
"And that's what you want?"
"Are you kidding? Of course. Do you think I want to lose you? It's perfect. I mean you could probably get a job at The Getty Center in a heartbeat."
"And the fact that I'm starting work on my doctorate in the fall?"
"There are universities in Los Angeles. Excellent ones with programs in rare books and manuscripts."
"And they'd probably even let me in. After I apply and wait a year. And what about my scholarship? It's not like I can afford UCLA or USC without one. Especially since I wouldn't have a job anymore."
Kiki would pay, she knew. But she also knew he'd never accept. Going through school on his own was important to Cam, just like getting to Hollywood was important to her. If she saw that about him, why couldn't he see it about her?
Frustrated, she sighed, then sat on the ottoman. "Well, then what do you want?"
It was a stupid thing to say, since she already knew the answer.
"I want you to stay here. I want you to work at the job you already accepted. The one that's going to give you so much hands-on responsibility. I want you to sit down with me and tell our families that we're dating. I want you in my bed every goddamn night. Hell, I just want to be with you, Mina. And I thought you wanted that, too."
"I do," she said, her voice so raw and hoarse she was afraid he couldn't even hear it. "I do, but I want LA, too."
"How exactly does that work, Mina? Because it seems to me that one cancels out the other."
"I don't know," she said, tasting the flood of tears she'd been fighting. "All I know is that I want you. But I also know that I have to go."
Chapter Fourteen
Tuesday brought overcast skies and a generally yucky weather. Although that assessm
ent might have had more to do with Mina's mood than actual meteorological conditions.
Even though she knew she needed to get out of bed and pack, Mina couldn't seem to manage anything more vigorous than thrusting her arm out every seven minutes to hit the snooze button, each time giving it a slightly harder whack.
After half an hour of that, she turned the alarm off entirely, then fell into a dreamless sleep and didn't wake up again until a crack of greenish light illuminated the room, followed by a deafening clap of thunder that shook the entire place.
She checked her clock, saw that it was already after six p.m., and tried to work up enough energy to even be frustrated with herself for sleeping through the entire damn day.
But no go. The day was gray, but her mood was grayer.
Usually, she loved Austin's frequent summer thunderstorms. They'd always seemed cozy before, as if inviting her to curl up on a couch with hot cocoa and a good book. Today, it just seemed depressing.
She didn't want to think about Cam or about leaving. And so, of course, that was all she was thinking about.
Cam didn't know a thing about the assistant position she'd taken, of course. So his dire predictions were nonsense. Sure, there'd be coffee and dry-cleaning. But she'd be making important connections in Hollywood, and that was key in the industry.
But even so, she'd called Griffin last night and asked him to make some phone calls to people he knew in Hollywood--just to make certain that her new boss didn't have a reputation for being an asshole who hit on women or abused his assistants or anything gnarly like that. Not that she was really worried. The job was exactly what she was looking for and she was sure her boss was a good guy.
Which begged the question of why she couldn't even get out of bed to start packing for the biggest adventure of her life.
The truth was, she didn't need to take much. She knew her dad would hire someone to pack and ship the rest of her things once she found an apartment in LA. But, of course, she still had to get up and get dressed, because she needed to go give the bad news to her new-and-soon-to-be-former Austin boss.
Except she didn't, because the day was gone.
She'd have to call tomorrow, after all.
