"Hey, it's just me," Cameron was still hovering over me. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine."
"I don't think I believe you." His voice held a hint of teasing. That hand drifted from my shoulder to stroke my hair, the same way he had earlier when he pulled me from the bathroom.
God that was embarrassing. I pulled the covers up to my nose and tried not to groan.
But the soft touch of his fingers sifting through my hair was enough of a distraction.
Cameron stilled. He pulled his hand back and shifted away from me, as if suddenly realizing what he was doing.
I began to notice things I hadn't noticed earlier. Cameron was wearing a thin white t-shirt, tight enough that I could see the outline of his abs. The exposed skin of his chest and arms were covered in ink. The shifting of his muscles beneath his skin as he pushed his hair out of his eyes made my mouth go dry.
I averted my eyes quickly. I didn't want Cameron to catch me looking. Didn't want him to see me staring at him as if I were dying of thirst and had just found an oasis.
"Do you want to talk?" he asked. "Sometimes it helps to get things off your chest."
Those words made my thoughts drift back to my dream. That spike of fear returned. My whole body tensed. Cameron must have sensed it.
"There's nothing to be afraid of," he continued. "It was just a false alarm. There was nothing on the security cameras. It was probably just a trash panda."
I couldn't help but let out a small giggle.
"Trash panda?"
"A raccoon," he clarified.
"Is that what you call them?"
"Why not? They look like small pandas. They eat trash."
I snorted out a laugh.
"Do you get many trash pandas around here?"
"Oh yeah. My trash is high quality. All the little rodent creatures fight over who gets to root around in my garbage."
I laughed harder. Cameron returned my laugh with a grin of his own. I nestled down into the mattress.
"Thanks, Cameron."
He continued to hover over me. His eyes glinted, pale moonlight reflected off the dark blue.
"If you want to talk, I'll listen."
I burrowed down into the covers. The bed depressed next to me as Cameron reclined, leaning on one arm so he could look at me. The worry and concern in his face made my heart clench. I closed my eyes.
"Only Noah knows the whole story."
"About the break in?" Cameron's brow furrowed in confusion.
"It wasn't just that our place got broken into." I paused. "I was home that night."
Cameron stilled for a moment before his hand returned to my hair, stroking softly.
"You saw the break in?"
"I didn't just see it. I— I walked in on it. I was in my bedroom. I heard a noise. I stepped out into the living room, expecting to see Noah coming in late from rehearsals. There were two of them. And…"
"Tell me," he said in a gentle voice.
"I knew them," I confessed quietly. "They had been in foster care with me and Noah. My brother got famous. They came around again. Acted like we were family. We trusted them."
"Fuck," Cameron cursed. "That's messed up."
I huffed out a laugh.
"I don't think Noah ever forgave himself for letting it happen. For leaving me alone all night. For trusting the wrong people."
"No wonder he's such a cranky, overprotective, hard ass. Being betrayed like that would really fuck a person up."
"He was always overprotective. And always kind of a hard ass," I admitted. "But this sent him over the edge."
"I had no idea," Cameron said quietly. "I thought you and Noah walked in and found your apartment torn up. I never knew."
He looked almost as distraught as I felt.
"No one knew. I lied to the police. I said Noah and I had walked in together. Noah wanted me to tell, but I refused. I was too afraid." I took in a deep breath. "That wasn't the worst part, though."
Cameron held my gaze. "You can tell me."
"At first, when I walked in on them, they didn't know what to do. I thought they might run. But instead—"
My voice faltered.
Cameron shifted down until we were eye to eye. While one hand pet my hair, the other rested softly on my shoulder. The heat of his fingers was like a fiery brand on my skin.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
"I screamed. I think they were afraid the neighbors would hear. One of them took out a switchblade." Unconsciously, I brought my hand to my neck, tracing the faint scar under my chin with my fingertips. "He said he would slit my throat if I didn't shut up."
Cameron wrapped both arms around my shoulders and tugged me closer. "Fuck. Lily. I'm so sorry."
I snuggled down into his warmth, ducking my head into his chest.
"They tied me up." My voice was hoarse. "Put my hands behind my back. Duct taped my mouth shut. Tied my feet together so I couldn't run. I squirmed and struggled but they were too big. Too strong."
Cameron's arms squeezed me tight. He returned to petting my hair.
"They kept on looking at me. Whispering to each other. They must have thought no one was home. They hadn't even bothered to hide their faces."
My eyes burned as tears gathered in the corners.
"I honestly thought they were going to kill me to keep me from telling anyone."
Cameron cupped my cheeks with both hands. He lifted my head from where I had burrowed down into him, bringing us face to face.
"And… that's how Noah found you?"
"He didn't come home until late the next morning. All night I sat there, tied up and terrified they would change their minds and come back."
A pained expression crossed his face. "Fuck. I can't even imagine how scared you must have been."
All the terror I'd felt back then came back in full force. Hot tears fell down my face, wetting Cameron's fingers as he stroked my cheeks.
"I thought I was going to die that night. I thought I'd never see my brother again. See my friends again." My breath hitched. "And then tonight. I heard the alarm. I thought—" My voice broke. I couldn't stop a sob from leaving my throat.
Cameron hugged me tight, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face in my hair.
"It's okay," he said in hushed tones. "You're safe. I promise."
His lips brushed the top of my ear as he spoke. Shivers went through me at that slight touch.
"I'll never let anyone hurt you. You can always come to me. Okay?"
Our legs were tangled together, our chests pressed close. I was sure he could feel the rapid beating of my heart through my thin tank top.
I took in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I only succeed in breathing in his scent, warm and masculine. That smell sent a streak of heat straight to the apex of my thighs. I shuddered in his arms.
"You're safe," he promised again, taking my shaking for fear.
But in his arms, the fear had subsided. A wave of arousal was taking its place.
I was acutely aware of every inch of his bare skin pressed to mine. The soft strands of his hair tickled my cheeks. The tips of my bare toes brushed his legs. And our hips—
I inhaled sharply.
Our hips were flush together, my own fitting neatly against his. So close I could feel him.
So close I could feel his rapidly hardening length against the hollow of my hip.
I shifted unconsciously, tilting my hips, wanting to feel more of him.
Cameron let out a small sound, halfway between a pained hiss and a pleasurable groan. His fingers clenched, gathering fistfuls of my shirt in his hands. I thought he might flex his hips, press himself against me.
Nervous excitement flowed through me.
Was Cameron really…?
He lifted his head from where it was buried in my hair. His cheeks brushed mine. He stared at me, our lips inches away from each other. The expression on his face was heated. Fiery. His eyes droppe
d to my mouth.
Arousal and anxiety hit me at the same time.
Did I really want to…?
I knew I liked Cameron. But was I ready for this?
I closed my eyes and parted my lips.
In a flurry of motion Cameron launched himself away from me, scrambling to the other side of the bed.
"Fuck," he said roughly. He sat upright, back against the headboard. He ran a hand over his face. "This can't happen."
I played with the hem of my tank top. I nodded slowly, a mix of disappointment and relief welling up in my chest.
"I'm serious, Lily." His voice was hoarse.
"I know."
He moved to get up, sliding off the bed. I grabbed his hand.
"Please stay," I begged.
"I can't—"
"Just to sleep."
I crawled back and nestled under the covers, leaving room for him to settle back down beside me.
He examined me quietly, as if seeking something in my eyes. He sat back down on the mattress with a thump.
His tall frame made a deep indentation in the bed. I felt myself tilt closer to him. It was like a planet gravitating toward the sun. I was drawn in by his presence.
I turned on my side, facing him.
Cameron lay on his back, arms straight at his sides. I could see a gleam of light reflecting in his eyes, telling me they were still open, staring at the ceiling.
"You're a really good guy," I told him.
He laughed, a harsh, deprecating sound. "No. I'm not."
I reached out for him. His hand was balled in a fist. I placed mine over his. I scooted closer, curling in on myself until my head rested on his shoulder.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning Cameron was gone, leaving me to wake up alone after we'd spend the night together.
I flushed at the thought. It had so many connotations.
I almost regretted asking him to spend the night with me. I might have sent us back to square one, sent him back to hiding from me.
But when I remembered how scared I'd been, how terrified, I had to admit that without Cameron's presence I probably would have spent the entire night huddled in that bathroom.
It was a couple days later, when I was knee deep in my studies, that Cameron knocked at my door again.
The moment I heard the tap of his knuckles on the doorframe, I cringed. My hair was tied up in a messy bun on the top of my head, wisps flying all over my forehead. My hooded sweatshirt hadn't seen a laundry machine in weeks. The only clean pants I owned were a pair of yoga shorts.
I heaved myself from my bed and cracked the door open an inch. Cameron's eyebrows were drawn down with something almost like worry.
I began to get nervous. Why was he here, after so many days of ignoring me? Was he going to bring up that night?
"I'm going to ask you to do something you're not going to like," were the first words out of his mouth.
Now it was my turn to frown.
"Do I even want to know?"
"Can I come in?"
I opened the door reluctantly. My room was still messy. I hadn't felt comfortable letting housekeepers clean up after me. Maybe it was my stubborn independent streak, but I wanted to feel like I could take care of myself, even in some small way.
Cameron's eyes scanned my room as he stepped through the door. His eyes fell on a lacy black bra sitting on one of the armchairs in a corner. His eyebrow twitched. I felt my face go red.
"So what am I not going to like?" I asked, blushing.
He forced his eyes away from my bra reluctantly. "I'm throwing a party."
I frowned, failing to see why I wouldn't like that. Understanding dawned on me. I suppressed a sigh.
"Let me guess. My brother wants me to stay in my room the entire time?"
Cameron had the decency to look chagrinned. "I know he's a dick, but I promised I'd keep you safe."
I raised an eyebrow. "And your parties are unsafe?"
"I promised I'd keep you away from the debauchery," he clarified.
"Sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll?"
"Something like that."
"You are aware I'm an adult, right?"
Cameron slowly eyed me up and down. That heated look, a look I hadn't seen in days, returned as he honed in on my bare legs.
My heartbeat sped up at that look. Warmth began to flow between my thighs.
Cameron looked away. I exhaled a deep breath.
"Promise me you'll stay in your room?" he asked.
"I don't want to be kept locked away like some princess in a tower."
"You're not locked away. You go to class every day."
"Only because I begged my brother to let me borrow one of his cars. You know he offered to pay for a chauffeur to drive me to campus every day?"
"Sounds like His Royal Highness." Cameron gave me a concerned look. "I know you hate being treated like a kid. I'm sorry."
I knew it wasn't Cameron's fault. It wasn't really my brother's fault either. They were both just overprotective.
When it was my brother doing the protecting, it chafed me to no end. When it came from Cameron, I didn't feel upset. Instead, my body felt lighter, like I'd been filled with helium.
The idea that Cameron wanted to protect me — that he cared enough to worry about me — made a happy, fuzzy feelings grow inside me.
"So when is this party?" I asked, ignoring the glow spreading throughout my chest.
"Tonight. People should begin filing in around ten."
"I'll probably be ready for bed by then, anyway."
"I thought that might be the case." Cameron held out his hand. "Here."
I took the two small pieces of orange foam from his palm. "Ear plugs?"
"You're gonna need them."
My heart thudded in my chest.
"Thanks for looking out for me." I waved my hand, indicating I meant the earplugs, not the over-protectiveness.
He just threw me a thumbs up and sauntered away.
I closed the door behind me and made my way back to the bed. I placed the ear plugs on the nightstand. I stood there and stared at them for a few minutes.
It really was a thoughtful gesture. I wouldn't have expected that from someone like Cameron Thorne.
Or maybe I should have expected it. I'd come to see a different side to Cameron since coming to live with him.
A side that made me long for him.
At first, all I'd been able to think about was how Cameron saw me as an adult. It was an intoxicating feeling, knowing that an older man found me attractive.
But this… my pounding heartbeat, my flushed cheeks, the lightness in my chest…
This was getting dangerous.
Chapter Thirteen
It did bother me a bit that I was expected to stay stuck in my room while a party raged on around me. Truth be told, I was exhausted from all my studying and had been going to bed not long after ten every night anyway.
I was already in my pajamas when I heard the music start up, a pounding, heavy noise that seemed to vibrate the very walls.
Soon after, loud chattering voices and laughter could be heard from outside my bedroom door. If I'd thought the party would be contained to the first floor, I would have been sorely mistaken.
I put Cameron's earplugs into my ears and pulled the covers over my head, but it didn't block out the music and voices. I buried my head in a pillow, squeezing it to the sides of my head. No luck.
A loud bang rang out. I jumped up with a startled shriek.
"Sorry, sorry!" A young couple stumbled over themselves, lurching and hanging onto the doorframe to keep upright.
"Thought this was empty," said the girl.
"It's not."
They giggled and clung to each other as they exited my bedroom. The door had been flung open, the door knob firmly wedged into the now-dented wall.
With a groan, I heaved myself up to close it. The
music was louder and the voices more distinct now that the door was open. Curiosity took hold. I peeked out the doorframe.
At least half a dozen people with drinks in their hands were mingling in the third floor hallway. Two of them were making out in the corner, a different couple than the one who had unceremoniously barged into my bedroom.
Music blasted from speakers in the walls. It had a catchy electronic beat. It made me want to move my body instinctively.
A burst of laughter and cheering caught my attention. A trio of girls were lifting their cups in salute. All three wore pink princess tiaras on their heads.
A sense of envy hit me. Everyone was having so much fun. Dancing, and drinking, and hanging out with their friends. I'd been stuck studying and going to class and doing not much else for weeks.
The hell with it. I didn't care what my brother thought.
I was going to have fun at a rock star party.
I closed my door and ran to my closet, pulling out the cutest skirt and top I could find that wasn't in need of laundering — a purple shimmering tank top and a short black skirt that flared over my thighs.
I quickly threw my hair into a high ponytail and applied a bit of makeup, no more than a quick coat of gloss, mascara, and a hint of eyeliner. I surveyed myself in the full length mirror that hung from my closet door. I nodded, satisfied. I left my bedroom and firmly closed the door behind me.
With a toss of my ponytail I approached the trio of tiara-wearing girls.
"Hey, where'd you guys get those drinks?" I asked.
One of them squealed, a high pitched breathy sound. "Oh my god, I love your top!"
"It's so cute," the second one gasped. "Where'd you get it?"
Would they be repulsed if I said I got it at Forever 21? Was I supposed to make up some fancy brand?
Before I could answer, the third girl tugged on her friends' arms. "She looks like someone." The girl turned to me. "You look like someone. Are you an actress?"
As flattering as that was, I didn't want the girls to figure out I was the infamous Lily Hart, Noah Hart's little sister who had plastered her face all over the Internet.
"I'm not an actress," was all I told them. "I guess I just have one of those faces."
The trio nodded, as if that made complete sense.
Hard Rock Sin: A Rock Star Romance Page 7
