“Fine, but this is my place, so I get to make a rule. You get some when you answer a question.”
“Two way street then, bro.” She leaned closer to me, her breasts hitting my arm as she tried to grab the bottle. “I didn’t agree to this torture.”
“Torture? Please.” I rolled my eyes as she went for the bottle again, this time placing her hand on my thigh. It was like a blast of electricity through my veins, causing my cock to stir again from her proximity. Even with sweat covering her, she smelled delicious. “Question, then drink,” I barked, my throat rough and filled with desire.
“Whatever,” she said, falling back down next to me. It was odd seeing her bring up her shields. She sat straighter, crossed her arms and legs, and stared off into the distance.
What type of question did she think I was going to ask? I hated how the blank expression changed on her. She was full of life and energy, and this was...not that. I didn’t want to go as far as to say I missed flirty Cami, but hell, that was a better version than a sad one. Lighten the mood.
I snapped my fingers. I wanted to badly to ask about the team, about why she was so upset to the point of tears, but I didn’t. I pulled a Camden trick—avoid the issue at all costs. “Okay, what’s the most useless talent you have?”
“That’s… that’s your question?” She eyed me, blinking a few times.
“Is that yours?” I fired back.
She grinned, scrunched her nose, and let out a snort. “No, it’s not. Not even a little bit. Okay, well, most useless talent. I can flip a pen around my thumb. Like, what’s the point of it besides being super cool?”
“Alright, you earned a drink.”
She took it from me and held eye contact, the tunnel suddenly seeming smaller. There was something sexy about her throat moving and the way she held my gaze. “My question.”
“You want to know my most useless talent? Okay, well—”
“No. I’m not wasting a question on that shit. Tell me about the best sex of your life.”
“Cami,” I said, choking on her name as images of her body flashed through my mind. “What are you… that can’t be your question.”
“It is. I want to know.” She shrugged like she didn’t intentionally cause my pulse to skyrocket.
“Is this payback?” I dropped my gaze to her mouth, wondering why the fuck it was a bad idea to kiss her. My breathing got heavier as she also eyed my lips. My entire body tensed like the time I’d tried running a half-marathon without training. My muscles were sore from holding myself so tight, like if she leaned any closer to me, I’d explode.
“Payback? For what?”
Think. I was so focused on the curve of her upper lip and the light dusting of freckles on her nose that I had no idea what she was asking. Payback… oh. “Uh, forget it.”
“Okay.” She shrugged and arched a brow. “It’s my question, so…are you afraid to answer or have you had lackluster sex your whole life?”
“Not holding back any punches, huh?” I coughed into my fist, buying myself some time to get my head on straight. “Here I thought I’d talk you through what happened to get you all upset, not bring up sex.”
I ran a hand over my face and thought about Maddie. The sex wasn’t crazy hot or wild like stories I’d heard, but it was sex. So, I enjoyed it. The emotional connection with her made it better somehow though. It made it…more. But then she dumped me because I was too boring and broke my heart, so was it even good then? I rubbed my eyebrow with my pointer finger. “My girlfriend. Ex, I should say. There, happy?”
“Was she into freaky shit?” She raised her brows and wiggled them. “Good for you.”
“No, it was our connection, actually.” God, why was this so hard to talk about? It made my skin prickle with vulnerability, like another round of that night a year ago. “I don’t sleep around,” I said, an edge of defensiveness leaking into my words. She’d probably think I was a loser for saying it, but I couldn’t lie to her. We were so different—her wild and sexy and free, and me… a nice dork. “I like being in relationships before having sex with someone.”
“Relationships,” she repeated, no intonation to the word to give me any clue what she was thinking.
“Yes. I’m not…” I paused, adjusting my glasses and hating the rock in my gut. “Super cool or probably like the guys you hang out with.”
She sucked in a breath, and I swore, she looked sad. Why? How did that upset her? I blinked and tried to backtrack. “Because I’m a nerd. I hang out in the library and do trivia nights and don’t sleep around. I’ve only slept with like...” Shit. I blushed hard, hating how stupid I felt. My entire body felt too small for my skin, and I let out a shaky breath. History repeating itself—her ability to make me overshare everything.
I took another drink, damn well earning it. I snuck a glance at her, my breath catching in my throat at the wounded expression on her face. Her eyes lost that shimmer that was there a minute ago, and her shoulders slumped, like my words had hurt her. It was a horrible feeling to know I put that sad look on her face. “Hey,” I said, desperate to see the twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “I’m sorry I upset you.”
“No, it’s… I deserve it.”
“Deserve what, exactly?”
“Your opinion of me.” She pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She rested her chin on top of her arms and exhaled so hard her breath tickled my arms. “I’ve only slept with a handful of people, all who were temporary flings and always safe. It was so easy to create this persona, this unfazed badass who charms and flirts with everyone. I wasn’t always like this.”
“Why do you do it?” I asked, hanging on every word as she showed more Cami layers that were just for me. Maybe I wasn’t the only one opening up tonight. The idea pleased me more than I cared to admit.
She let out a sad laugh and stared at me with pain in her eyes. “It’s easy to pretend you’re not hurt or sad or upset or anxious. I’d throw all my emotions into creating Cami Simpson, the cool girl, the party girl, the girl who everyone wants to be so I wouldn’t acknowledge how I was feeling.”
“And how are you feeling?”
“Jesus, this is worse than therapy.” She held out her hand, and I gave her the bottle. She took a small sip and handed it back. “My sister assumed I’d intentionally dated guys she liked. My coach says I’m not leadership material. My counselor even laughed at my dance degree with a minor in business. Everyone thinks exactly what I wanted them too, but it hurts. I’m utterly alone with just my carefully crafted reputation I formed.”
Something aggressive and terrifying surged through me, a need to protect her at all costs. But she wasn’t done talking. She still wore that blank look on her face as she scratched a scab on her knee.
“My coach, Audrey, chose Daniella to be captain after I’ve dedicated hours to getting that role senior year. It’s not going well at all. She has no leadership skills or clout. The girls are annoyed at her, and now… Audrey wants me to co-captain with her. She acted like I should be thrilled. I’m never anyone’s first choice, and I’m supposed to be happy being second?”
She looked so small pulled up into that ball that my heart clenched tight. She’d opened up to me in this gross underground tunnel. My heart hammered at the notion, but a heavy throb started in my chest too. Cami clearly wasn’t her reputation. She was battling everyone else’s perception of her, which made me want to be there for her. Really there for her.
“I’m sorry you’re feeling this way.” I squeezed her hand.
“Yeah, me too.” She sighed again, leaning back on the wall just as something thudded in the distance. She tensed and reached over to grab my arm. “Did you hear that?”
I nodded, hardly able to think with her tight grip on me. The sound repeated, and Cami jumped into my lap, her chest heaving.
“Freddie, Freddie, there is something that way.” She clung to my neck, her tits almost in my face. “Is it a ghost? Are there other people down her
e? Should we go?”
Sensation overload. The sweet mixture of sweat and peaches flooded my nose, and her body pressed against mine so hard I could literally feel her toned muscles. I wrapped an arm around her waist to what…. keep her from falling off my lap? To protect her? Because I was selfish and wanted to prolong this moment?
“Not a ghost,” I said, my voice husky and a dead giveaway to my attraction. She didn’t notice though. She clung to me harder as the sound grew louder.
“We should run the fuck out of here.”
Yes, before I get a boner.
“Sure, yeah.” I tried to move her off me, but she bore down, not loosening her grip at all. Okay then.
I stood up, making sure I held her and the bottle tight. She wrapped her legs around my waist, causing me to touch her ass. Jesus. It was tight and perfect. The urge to dig my fingers into her globes was enough to drive me crazy.
“A little hustle, Freddie. Please, it could kill us.”
“You could walk yourself, you know,” I said, teasing but not wanting to stop touching her. Her petite, strong body felt so good against mine.
“Absolutely not. I’m using your large frame as a shield. I thought that was obvious.” She looked over my shoulder and tensed even more. “They have a flashlight! Run!”
CHAPTER
NINE
Cami
I clutched my throat, my breath coming out in heavy pants. I wasn’t sure who held the flashlight, but Freddie set me down, and we ran. Not like a cute jog. No, we sprinted as if we were about to die.
Freddie wiped his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt, his breathing coming out erratically like mine. A flash of his stomach greeted me, but the building was too dark to get a good glance. My stomach swooped at the thought of touching him there though.
“What a rush. Wow.” Once we were back in the engineering building, I put a hand over my heart. I wasn’t scared of a lot of things, but ghosts? Hauntings? Fuck that. The few sips of whiskey combined with the adrenaline rush, and a pleasant, tipsy feeling overtook me. This was what I needed.
I smiled, ready to thank Freddie, but he had a dark, angry expression on his face as he put his hands on his hips, staring daggers at the fake door.
“What is it? Do you think it’ll follow us?”
He glanced at me for a second. “No.”
My stomach sank, and regret flowed through me like a leaky faucet. I’d jumped on top of him. I’d clung to him for dear life. My ears burned like fire as I cleared my throat. He had to feel so awkward. “Freddie,” I said, waiting for him to look at me. It took a few seconds, but when his beautiful gray eyes met mine, I swore there was some flash of emotion in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“For making you uncomfortable,” I said, adding a little laugh at the end. “I didn’t mean to climb you like a tree. If you couldn’t tell, ghosts freak me out.”
“I noticed.” He shoved the whiskey into his pocket and adjusted his glasses. He was giving some serious Clark Kent vibes with the size of his chest and his dark swoopy hair. I wanted to ruffle the fuck out of his locks just to see it messed up, but I didn’t.
Freddie had boundaries, and I needed to respect them. He was a relationship, meaningful sex kind of guy. I wasn’t that way. No matter the feelings he stirred in me, I couldn’t cross the line. For his benefit.
“Uh,” I said, pushing my hair behind my ears. I was suddenly embarrassed I was still in my workout clothes. It was almost the same size as a swimming suit, and I showed so much skin. “Thank you, for this. The distraction. The rush.”
“You’re welcome.” He gave a tight smile and nodded toward the door. “Should we head back?”
Did I want to return to the hot ass dorm to sit in my room alone? No. I didn’t at all. I frowned and chewed my lip before I shook my head. “I don’t want to go back.”
He stilled, and a line appeared between his brows, like my answer bothered him. He opened his mouth a few times, closing it without saying anything. “Okay. Where to then?”
There was ten feet between us in the classroom, and yet it felt like we were touching as his gaze roamed my body. I knew then that the flash of emotion on his face was heat. Seeing he was attracted to me sent a thrill through me, lighting me up inside even though nothing would ever happen. At least I knew it wasn’t just one-sided. “Oh, don’t feel obligated or anything. If you need to go home, go ahead. I’ll figure something out.”
“I don’t feel pressure.” He pulled on the edge of his shirt, almost to fan himself before he studied me with the same intensity I’d witnessed in the library. Like I was a project. An assignment.
“Seriously, you don’t have to hang out with me.” I waved my hand in the air. “There’s always a party going on.”
It was important to create some distance between us. To put some walls back up around my soul. I’d shared too much, showed him too much of me. It made me feel bared and naked.
“Is that what you want? To go to a party to not deal with your emotions?” he asked so casually, like we were talking about the weather.
His question was a dagger straight to the gut. I should never have told him that. It was the magic of the tunnel. The feel of his large body next to me, the thick air, the whiskey. He caught me at a temporarily vulnerable time.
“I was just blabbing. It’s nothing,” I said, flashing my fake smile. “This was great. Love that you know about a secret tunnel. Very un-Freddie-like of you.”
“Cami, cut the bullshit, please.”
Whoa. I’d never heard Freddie raise his voice, and there was a ring of authority to it. The gentle giant had a bit more to him. Layers. Layers I kinda wanted to peel back slowly to see how he’d react. He stepped toward me but not close enough to touch. His mouth twisted in a scowl as he looked down at me.
He had to crane his neck to see me, and I matched his stance, crossing my arms and preparing for whatever he was going to say.
“Don’t do this,” he said, a softness to his tone that had my resolve weakening. “Don’t give me this version of yourself when I’ve seen the true one.”
“I’m not,” I said, the lie thick on my tongue. “This is the real me.”
“If you want space because you shared too much, I understand. I’ll give you space, but please don’t go to a party alone right now. You’re upset and had some drinks. I’ll worry.”
“I don’t need you to worry about me.”
“I know, but I will anyway. Friends care about each other.”
Fuck. The silent plea in his eyes, the way he made a fist at his side, the undeniable feeling of safety I had around him… It was all too much, and it’d be cruel to intentionally hurt him. Friends.
It was the second time that night he’d referred to us as friends. How pathetically sad that I couldn’t recall the last friend I had? Sure, I had teammates, roommates, and sorority sisters who were fake and temporary. But friends who cared about each other? Who ever admitted to caring about me that wasn’t a family member? My throat tightened.
I had one in high school who fell out of contact after we went to college. My roommate from freshmen year never responded yes when I asked her to grab dinner together. After a while, it got easier to live in my lonely ice castle. Even when Naomi and I grew apart, we had such little in common that friends wasn’t what I’d use for us.
Now? We were working on getting better, but Freddie was the first person in years to say that about me. Shit. My eyes stung a little, and I pursed my lips, refusing to let the tears fall. “Want to come with me?”
Whatever he thought I was going to say, it wasn’t that. He blinked in surprise before he repeated, “Go to a party with you?”
I wasn’t sure why he said it like that, like he was accusing me of something. I nodded. “Yeah, let’s get into trouble together.”
He scratched his head and gave me a long look that had me squirming because he was so unreadable. The dark hair, the eyes hidden behind the glasses, and the
absolute softness from a man his size was a lot to deal with.
“Promise me something.”
“Anything,” I said, before realizing how desperate that made me seem. He had to know though that his support, his insistence on being my friend...well, that meant everything to me.
“Please, don’t leave with someone else.” The tips of his ears turned redder than ketchup, and my stomach sank at his insinuation.
“Wow, way to let your real opinion of me show.” I straightened my shoulders, hating how his words stung. “I’ll have you know I attend parties and keep up appearances, but I haven’t fucked anyone in months, Freddie. I might not do relationships because I think love is a poison, but I’m not the girl you think I am, and I find it—”
He silenced me by putting one long finger on my lips. I had no idea how he got to me so quickly, but heat spread from my lips to my toes. His mouth was inches from mine. “I didn’t mean it the way you’re thinking.”
“I find that hard to believe,” I said, my lips grazing against his finger. He made no moves to remove it. “I wouldn’t ask you to a party and then leave with some other guy.”
“Do you remember last year?” he asked, his body very tense. He dropped his finger but kept standing close to me. I could smell his woodsy scent combined with the whiskey on his breath, sending tingles over my skin.
Last year… ”What about it?”
“We were at the same party. You came with some girls from the dance team, and I was there with my brother. It was at the house on sixth.”
The night we flirted. The night he looked at me with awe, like he thought I was worth his attention. He gave me butterflies…one of the last times I felt like that. Hopeful. But he’d left without saying a word. “Yes, I remember.”
Freddie sighed, like the memory pained him. “That was my first night out after a horrible break up. My ex really shook my confidence, and here you were, this gorgeous bombshell flirting with me, opening up to me. I couldn’t believe my luck.”
From the Top (Central State) Page 8
