Wait for You
Page 11
Okay. I had two options at this point. I could roll off the couch and make a mad dash for my bedroom or I could actually act like an adult and see if he was awake.
Surprisingly, I sided with the whole acting like an adult part and slowly rolled onto my back. And that was a horrifically bad move, because the hand on my hip moved when I did and was now resting against my lower stomach.
Oh sweet Lord…
His hand rested below my belly button, spanning southward and his fingers reached the waistband on my yoga pants. It was close, really close to somewhat uncharted territories. A ball of ice formed in my chest, but lower, much lower, something else entirely was happening. Sharp tingles shot from my belly and spread below in a warm wave of shivers. How was it possible to feel so cold and hot at the same time?
His thumb moved, and I bit down on my lip. It had to be an accident or some idle movement in his sleep. Then his thumb moved again, but this time in a slow, lazy circle under my belly button. Oh shit. My pulse kicked up and that warmth increased. His thumb kept moving, at least for a half a minute, until I couldn’t take it any longer. Parts of my body were aching in a way that was entirely unfair and unfamiliar, and that shouldn’t be happening.
But oh it was.
I drew in a deep breath, but it did nothing to relax my muscles or to ease the tension building deep inside me. And I knew if I looked down, my nipples would be straining against the thin shirt I wore. With each breath I took, I could feel them rubbing against my bra. I desperately wanted to be that girl that knew how to handle this; the kind of girl that I knew Cam probably really wanted and was used to.
But I wasn’t her.
I tipped my head back and looked up at Cam.
His head was turned to the side, away from mine, and back against the cushion. A faint shadow appeared on the strong line of his jaw. There was a slight smile on his face. Son of a bitch.
“Cam.”
One eye opened. “Avery?”
“You’re not asleep.”
“You were.” He lifted his head, turning his head side to side, working out a kink. “And I was asleep.”
And his hand was still on my lower stomach, incredibly heavy. Part of me wanted to tell him to get his paws off me, but that’s not what came out of my mouth. “I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.”
“I’m not.”
Wetting my lips nervously, I had no idea what to say to that so I went with a, “What time is it?”
His gaze had dropped to my mouth and my entire body tensed in a way that wasn’t unpleasant at all. “After midnight,” he responded.
My heart was pounding. “You didn’t even look at the clock.”
“I just know these kinds of things.”
“Really?”
His eyes were hooded. “Yes.”
“That’s a remarkable talent.” My hand curled into a fist beside my thigh. “What time are you leaving in the morning?”
“Are you going to miss me?”
I screwed up my face. “That’s not why I was asking. I was just curious.”
“I told my parents I’d be home by lunch.” With his other hand, he scooped a few strands off my face and that hand lingered to, in my hair. “So I probably have to leave between eight and nine.”
“That’s early.”
“It is.” His hand smoothed over my head, and my eyes drifted shut again, relaxing in spite of myself. “But the drive is easy.”
“And you’re not coming back until Sunday night?”
“Correct,” he murmured, and I felt his chest move with a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re not going to miss me?”
My lips cracked a small grin. “It’ll be like a vacation for me.”
He chuckled. “That was entirely mean.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“But I know you’re lying.”
“You do?”
“Yep.” His hand moved, and I felt the tips of his fingers graze my cheek. My eyes flew open. He was smiling down at me. Not a big smile that showed of his dimple, though. “You’re going to miss me, but you’re not going to admit it.”
I didn’t say anything, because I was trying not to think about the next four days. And then his fingers moved, trailing the curve of my cheekbone, and I wasn’t really thinking about anything. They drifted to my jaw and one finger carved a path to my chin. Air leaked slowly out of my lungs as he finger hovered near my bottom lip.
He tilted his head to the side. “I’ll miss you.”
My lips parted. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
I closed my eyes against the sudden burn of tears. I had no idea why those three words affected me so, but they did and for a teeny, tiny moment, I admitted to myself that I didn’t want him to leave. That made the burn worse.
Several minutes passed and the only sound was the low hum of the TV. He traced the outline of my lower lip, never quite touching it but coming close with each pass. I wondered if he would ever touch my lip and if I wanted him to.
I think I sort of did.
“You talk in your sleep,” he said.
My eyes popped open. Screw the touching of the lip. “I do?”
He nodded.
Oh God. My stomach dropped. “Are you messing with me? Because I swear to God, if you’re messing with me, I’m going to hurt you.”
“I’m not messing with you, sweetheart.”
I sat up, and both of his hands dropped away. I twisted on the couch, facing him. My pulse was pounding for a whole different reason. “What did I say?”
“Nothing really.”
“For real?”
Leaning forward, he scrubbed his hands down his face. “You were just murmuring stuff. I couldn’t really make out what you were saying.” He lifted his head. “It was kind of cute.”
My heart started to slow down as the fear loosened its grip on my chest. God only knows what I could’ve been saying when I slept. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was past three in the morning. “Holy crap, you suck at your special ability at telling the time.”
Cam shrugged as he slid forward. “I guess I should be going home.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. What was I about to do? Ask him to stay? Like have a slumber party on my couch? Real smooth. I doubted he was interested in PG-13 couch parties. “Be careful when you drive,” I finally said.
He stood, and I stared at the spot he’d occupied. “I will.” And then he swooped down, moving faster than I could figure out what he was up to. He placed his lips to my forehead. “Goodnight, Avery.”
I closed my eyes and my hands balled into fists. “Goodnight, Cam.” He made it to the door before I sprung up, clutching the back of the couch. “Cam?”
He stopped. “Yeah?”
Taking a deep breath, I forced the words out. “I had a really good time tonight.”
Cam stared at me a moment and then he smiled. The dimple appeared in his left cheek, and my own lips responded in kind. “I know.”
Chapter 12
Tossing my history text onto the edge of my bed, I flopped onto my back and smacked my hands over my eyes. It was only Thursday afternoon and I already felt like I was about to crawl out of my skin.
I guess I could clean something.
Yawn.
My cell chirped from the nightstand, and I rolled over, grabbing it. Half afraid to look at the screen, I did so with one eye closed. Like that somehow made things less shittier if it was the friendly, neighborhood asshole.
It wasn’t.
Sitting up, I opened the text from Cam. Two words and I was grinning like a fool. Miss me?
I responded back with a: No.
The response was almost immediate. If u were Pinocchio, ur nose wld span the state.
Crossing my legs, I leaned against my headboard. Pinocchio? Sounds like your reading level.
Ha. U wound me. Deeply.
Thought you didn’t have feelings?
I lied. I have so many feels for u. Before I could respond, anot
her text came through. When I lie something else grows on me.
I laughed out loud. Thanks for sharing.
Ur welcome. Just keeping u updated.
You can keep that to yourself. Biting down on my lip, I texted back: Did you make it home?
A few minutes passed while I stared at my phone. Yeah. Fam showering me with affection. U cld learn frm them.
I think you get enough attention.
I’m needy.
Boy, don’t I know that.
There was another span of minutes. What r u doing?
Lying on my back, I crossed my ankles. Reading.
Nerd.
Jerk.
Bet u miss me.
My grin had reached embarrassingly epic proportions. Bet you have better things to do right now.
Nope. A few seconds later, who is this??? I frowned as I sat up. And then, Sorry, my sister just stole my phone.
I relaxed. Sounds like a pretty cool sister.
She is. Sometimes. She’s needier than I am. Gotta run.
I texted back: TTYL
The rest of the afternoon dragged and by nine o’clock, I briefly considering taking some NyQuil just to go to sleep. From the living room I heard my cell chirp again. Throwing my toothbrush into the sink, I made a mad four feet dash to my living room and then slowed as I approached my phone.
Go out with me.
Laughing, I forgot I had toothpaste in my mouth and ended up spewing white, foamy gunk all over my chin and shirt. “Jesus, I’m a dork.”
I cleaned myself up and then responded to Cam. Asking me over text is no different from in person.
Thought I’d give it a try. What r u doing now? I’m beating my dad at poker.
Picturing him with his family, I smiled. Getting ready for bed.
Wish I was there.
My eyes widened. What the what?
Wait r u naked?
No!!! I sent back. Perv.
Damn. At least I have my imagination
That’s all you will ever have.
We’ll c.
No you won’t.
I choose to ignore that. Ok. Gotta go. Dad is kicking my ass.
Night Cam.
Goodnight, Avery.
I held onto the phone for an indecent amount of time after that and then took it into my bedroom. Lately, I’d taken to the habit of turning my ringer off at night, because I never knew when I’d get the UNKNOWN CALLER messages. But tonight, I left it on.
Just in case.
#
Sunday morning didn’t feel right without Cam, his obsession with hard-boiled eggs, that damn little skillet, and all those yummy baked goods. I woke up early, as if some internal clock was expecting him to knock on my door. Of course, it didn’t happen and he hadn’t texted all day Saturday. I imagined that he was hanging out with his family and friends that were still living up there.
I tried not to miss Cam, because he was just a friend, and while I wished Brit and Jacob were around, it wasn’t like I missed them, missed them. It wasn’t the same. Or maybe it was.
Pulling out a box of cereal, I made a yuck face. I really could go for some blueberry muffins. I ate my cereal, feeling all kinds of grumpy. I’d just finished washing the bowl when my phone rang.
I hurried into the living room and drew up short when I saw the name on my caller ID.
Mom.
Ooooh fuck.
The phone kept ringing while I debated on picking it up and tossing it out the window. I had to answer, though. Mom and Dad never called. So it had to be important. Answering the phone, I winced. “Hello.”
“Avery.”
Ah, there was the voice—the cultured, clipped, highly impersonal, and cold voice of Mrs. Morgansten. I bit back a string of curses that would burn her perfect ears. “Hi, Mom.”
There was a huge gap of silence. My brows rose as I wondered if she misdialed me or something. Finally she spoke. “How is West Virginia?”
She said ‘West Virginia’ like it was some kind of venereal disease. I rolled my eyes. Sometimes my parents forgot where they came from. “It’s really good. You’re up early.”
“It’s Sunday. Theo has insisted on doing an early brunch with your Father at the Club. Otherwise I would not be up at this time.”
Theo? I plopped down on the couch, my mouth hanging open. For the love of little babies everywhere, Theo was Blaine’s father. My parents, they were such… fuckers.
“Avery, are you there?” Impatience filled her tone.
“Yes. I’m here.” I grabbed a pillow and shoved it in my lap. “You’re going to have brunch with Mr. Fitzgerald?”
“Yes.”
And that was all she said to that. Yes. Like it was no big deal. The Fitzgerald’s paid the Morgansten’s off and I was labeled a lying whore, but it was all good in the hood, because they all could still have brunch at the club.
“How is school?” she asked, but she sounded bored. She was probably surfing the Internet for her next cosmetic procedure. “Avery?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “School is perfect. West Virginia is perfect. Everything is perfect.”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady. After everything you put us through—”
“Everything I put you through?” I was living in an alternate universe.
“And still putting us through,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken a word. “You’re clear across the country, going to some little university in West Virginia instead of—”
“There’s nothing wrong with this school, Mom, or West Virginia. You were born in Ohio. Not that different—”
“That is something I try not to remember.” Her huff was pretty epic. “Which brings me to the point of this call.”
Thank God, baby Jesus, and the Holy Ghost.
“You need to come home.”
“What?” I clenched the pillow to my chest.
She sighed. “You need to stop playing around and come home, Avery. You’ve made your point quite clear by up and doing something as childish as this.”
“Childish? Mom, I hated being there—”
“And who do you have to blame for that, Avery?” Some of the coolness slipped from her voice.
My mouth dropped open. This wasn’t the first time she’d said something like that. Not by a long shot, but it was like a punch in the chest. I stared at the window, shaking my head slowly.
“We only want the best for you,” she began again, regaining the cool aloofness with a line of pure bullshit. “That’s all we’ve wanted and the best thing for you to do is to come home.”
I started to laugh, but it got stuck in my throat. Coming home was in my best interest? The woman was crazy. Just talking to her made it feel like I got the crazy on me.
“Some things have happened here,” she added, and then cleared her throat. “You should come home.”
How many times had I done what they wanted? Too many times, but this was one time I couldn’t back down. Going home was equivalent to sticking my head in a meat grinder and then asking why it hurt. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. “No.”
“Excuse me?” My mother’s voice turned shrill.
“I said, no. I’m not coming back home.”
“Avery Samantha Morgan—”
“I’ve got to go. It was nice talking to you, Mom. Goodbye.” And then I hung up the phone before she could say anything else. I placed the cell on the coffee table and waited.
One minute went by, two minutes, and then five minutes. Letting out a sigh of relief, I collapsed against the couch. I shook my head, literally blown away by the conversation. My mother was insane. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. What a way to start a Sunday morning.
A sudden knock on the door startled me.
Hopping to my feet, I hurried around the couch, wondering who it could be. It was too early for any of my friends to have come home. Hell, it wasn’t even nine yet, which meant it was probably also too early for a serial killer to pay a visit.
&
nbsp; I stretched up and peered through the peephole. “No way.” My heart did a series of backflips as I yanked open the door. “Cam?”
He turned around, lips tipped in a crooked grin. In his hand was a grocery bag. “So, I woke up around four this morning and thought I could really eat some eggs. And eggs with you is so much better than eggs with my sister or my dad. Plus my mom made pumpkin bread. I know how you like pumpkin bread.”
Struck silent, I stepped aside and watched him carry his bag into the kitchen. The back of my throat burned, my lower lip was doing this really weird tremble thing. A knot somewhere deep inside my chest unraveled. My brain clicked off. I didn’t even shut the front door or feel the cool air washing over my bare ankles. I shot forward, crossing the distance between my door and kitchen. Cam turned just as I launched myself at him.
He caught me and stumbled back a step as he caught me with his arms around my waist. I buried my head against his chest, eyes closed and my heart thumping. “I missed you.”
Chapter 13
Hunkered down in my hoodie, I shivered as the cold wind whipped between Whitehall and Knutti, rattling the brown and yellow leaves above us. Several were tossed into the air and they spiraled down to the ground, joining the thick carpet of leaves.
Brit drew in a deep drag of her cigarette and let it out slowly. “So the next time I answer a late night booty call from Jimmie and I actually go over to his place, what will you do?”
I hobbled from side to side. “Punch you in the vagina?”
“Exactly!” She took one last draw and then put the cigarette out. “God, why are we girls so stupid?”
I fell in step beside her, keeping my arms wrapped around me. “Good question.”
“I mean, I totally know he doesn’t want to be in a relationship, that all he wants is sex, and he’s usually a little drunk and yet I still go over there. Seriously?”
“Do you want to be in a relationship?”
Her lips pursed as she pulled her knit cap down over her ears. “You know, I don’t think so.”
I frowned. “Then why are you so upset because he doesn’t want to be.”
“Because he should want to be in a relationship with me! I’m friggin’ awesome.”