"It was an experiment. You always flinch when I go near your feet."
"Maybe I should do my own experiment. See how many other places you're ticklish."
"Ceasefire," he said hastily, throwing his hands up in surrender. A sly smile crossed his face. "Besides, there are more interesting ways to experiment with your body."
I swam closer to him. "Like what?"
He grabbed me by the waist and tugged until we were pressed together. "How about I show you?"
He pressed his mouth to mine, giving me a wet kiss. I smelled and tasted the mixture of chlorine and suntan lotion and something that was uniquely Cameron. Warm and fresh, like sunshine.
I returned the kiss, brushing our tongues together in a hot slide. We'd done this many times already, but each kiss still sent shivers through my spine. Still sent heat soaring straight between my thighs. The touch of his lips and tongue against mine did something to my insides, made me instantly wet and needy for him.
I would have been embarrassed at my overreaction to a simple kiss if Cameron hadn't reacted the same. He was already pressed against my thigh, growing stiff.
I heard a rustling of the bushes. My heart stopped. I pulled away quickly, looking for the source of the noise.
No one else lived here. Cameron hadn't invited anyone over. It was supposed to just be the two of us.
I began to shake.
Who was here? Were they supposed to be here?
My lungs seized up, fear spiking through me. I couldn't breathe. The anxiety made me shiver and quake.
The bushes began to move.
Someone was coming.
I took quick gasps of air, unable to breathe through the panic. My arms and legs thrashed as I fought to tread water. I couldn't make my limbs work properly. I began to sink.
"Shit, are you okay?"
Cameron's voice was like a bright light in the darkness. I grasped on to it, using it like a lifeline to pull myself out of my panic.
He swam up beside me and caught me, keeping me from dipping under the water.
I clutched at his arms. My trembling fingers dug into his skin.
"Just take slow breaths." Cameron stroked the back of my head, sifting his hands through the long, wet strands of hair. "Slow breaths, okay?"
I nodded shakily and tried to do as he said.
"Can you tell me what's wrong?"
"Th-there's someone here," I stuttered out through a tight throat, clinging to him.
The concern on Cameron's face was touching, but it wasn't enough to ease the panic taking hold inside me.
"It's probably just the gardener. Yo, Jerry, come on out," Cameron called.
An older gentleman wearing a sunhat and carrying a pair of hedge clippers appeared between the bushes.
"Yes Mr. Thorne?" the man asked with a cheery tone.
I let out a choked sigh of relief. My racing heart slowed down somewhat. The panic began to subside. My lungs let out a whoosh of air. I began to take slow breaths in and out.
After a few moments, mortification set in.
I couldn't believe I'd let myself get that worked up again. Of course it was just the gardener. It could have even been one of the housekeepers, or Cameron's parents showing up again, or any number of people.
My mind had immediately gone to a break in.
Anger and self-loathing fought for dominance inside me. I hated myself for always overreacting. First that false alarm when I'd hid in the bathroom, and now this.
Was I going to be living in fear forever?
Cameron waved the gardener off. He gathered me close, wrapping his arms around me.
"You alright?" he asked, a concerned expression on his face.
I nodded silently, still shivering from the aftermath of my panic attack.
"Were you scared?"
"It's so stupid," I mumbled. My lungs still burned. I'd almost drowned. "I'm acting like…"
Cameron took my face in his hands.
"Something really scary happened to you. It's okay to still be affected by it."
I didn't meet his eyes, ashamed. "It was ages ago. I should be fine by now."
"It's okay if you're not. Maybe…" He looked hesitant. "Maybe you should see someone about it?"
"Maybe." I didn't think my fears were that bad. Were they? Surely not bad enough I needed to see a therapist. I just got a little scared sometimes. That was all.
A small voice in my head snorted. No big deal, I'd just almost drowned is all.
Cameron pressed a gentle peck on my lips, nothing like the passionate kiss I'd interrupted.
"You can always come to me if you're scared or afraid. I want you to know that."
"Thank you."
But even as I said the words, I hated the idea.
All along I'd chafed at Noah's rules. I'd wanted to be on my own, to live my own life.
But maybe my brother had been right. What if I'd been by myself? What if Cameron hadn't been here to save me from freaking out? I might have drowned. Just like I might have passed out from my panic attack that night in the bathroom.
I hated the idea of being so weak. I didn't want to rely on anyone else this way.
But I clearly didn't have these panic attacks under control.
Maybe Noah was right.
I wasn't ready to be on my own.
I was still just a scared little girl inside.
Chapter Twenty-One
I had almost forgotten about the plans for dinner, until Cameron reminded me, a nervous expression on his face. I wondered why he was so worried. It was just dinner.
It seemed like months since I'd first met Cameron parents. So much had happened since. Cameron and I had confessed our feelings. We'd had sex for the first time. And second time. And many, many more times after that.
When the evening finally arrived and we walked into the restaurant, I immediately felt self-conscious. Everyone was dressed up in suits or at the very least business casual, along with a handful of cocktail dresses and luxurious evening wear. I wasn't one to splurge when it was technically my brother's money. Even the nicest dress I owned had only cost around thirty dollars.
Cameron wore black skinny jeans with chains hanging from the belt and a tight black t-shirt. His wild, bright red hair stood out in stark contrast to the restrained hairstyles of the other restaurant patrons.
At least he wasn't wearing his usual thick eyeliner.
Cameron's parents waited for us in the foyer. They greeted us with hugs and handshakes, dressed in their perfectly tailored business attire.
The hostess didn't blink an eye at our mismatched group, but it seemed to me everyone stopped in the middle of eating to stare as she led us to a table.
I ducked my head as I hurried to sit, avoiding their gazes. When we were seated I snuck a glance at Cameron, expecting him to feel as out of place as I did.
Instead, his expression was blasé, relaxing into his chair, legs spread out as if he hadn't a care in the world. I supposed someone as self assured as Cameron, a rich and famous rock star, wouldn't care if snooty people looked down on him.
Cameron's parents were perfectly pleasant, despite my initial doubts. His dad wasn't too chatty, but his mom was good at small talk. She peppered me with me questions about school, my art, and my experience in France.
I didn't bring up boarding school. It would only lead to questions about why I'd attended high school somewhere so far away. That was an issue I definitely didn't want to get into with Cameron's parents.
"Nice place," Cameron said after our waitress came to take our drink orders and hand out menus.
Normally I would have thought he was making fun, in his usual obnoxious way, but he sounded genuinely impressed.
"The Masons took us here," Sharon explained. "I fell in love with the salmon. You should try it."
"Sure, sounds great," Cameron said earnestly.
This whole exchange was odd. I side-eyed him.
"Although usually I'm more of a burgers and pizza kin
d of guy," Cameron quipped.
His parents chuckled politely.
I thought it might have only been me who noticed his relieved grin as they laughed.
The four of us were quiet as we perused the selections. I decided to go with the salmon myself, partly because it did sound good, and partly because I wanted to…
I mused to myself for a moment. What exactly was I trying to do? Make Cameron's mom happy? Make her like me? I didn't know why I cared. I barely knew them.
But there was something about the way Sharon kept throwing pleased, almost ecstatic glances my way. It was disconcerting. I looked to Cameron every once in a while, trying to gauge his mood.
He kept looking between his parents with an almost nervous, wavering smile. Like he was trying hard to keep up the polite conversation. Trying hard to impress them.
"I haven't asked yet," Grant said. "How have things been with you? Music industry treating you well?"
"We're just getting ready to release the new album." Cameron gave his father an eager look. "I think this one's gonna be even bigger than the last. We've been doing so much promo shi—"
He cut himself off as his dad gave him a warning look.
"I mean, we've been doing a lot of promo stuff," he continued weakly.
Grant nodded distantly, as if not really hearing the words. "Good, good. It's important to have a good team behind you."
"You said you had something to talk to me about?" Cameron asked, forcibly changing the conversation.
Sharon cleared her throat and placed both clasped hands on the table.
"As you know, I've been a member of quite a few boards for a few non-profits."
"Right. Save the whales and all that."
"I'm not sure how much attention you've been paying to local politics recently—"
"The answer would be none," he joked.
"I've been approached by some interested parties about running for office," she said matter of factly.
Cameron's brows furrowed. "Like city council or something?"
"No. For mayor."
Cameron's eyes grew wide. "Holy fuck."
"Language," Grant warned.
Cameron slumped back in his seat. "Sorry."
I'd never seen Cameron look so abashed. He never listened to anyone, and he certainly never seemed to care whether his foul-mouth would offend someone.
Cameron was trying so hard to act… well, good. Well behaved and well mannered. I had no idea he even cared about that. Cameron was the type to do whatever he felt like and say fuck it to anyone who complained.
"I guess I should say congratulations, Mom." He still looked taken aback. "This is a pretty big deal."
Sharon looked at her husband. He nodded. She turned to Cameron.
"We need to talk about what this means for us. For our family. For you."
Cameron froze. He slowly glanced between his parents.
"Right." He stretched out in his seat, running a hand through his hair in a fake-casual motion. "I get it." He forced a grin. "Same deal as always?"
"We'll obviously need to work through the details, but I don't think you'll have a problem with business as usual?" His mother seemed oblivious to the strained tone in Cameron's voice.
"It's cool." He gave her a wavering smile. "I know the drill."
"Wonderful," Sharon said blithely.
I was befuddled at the exchange taking place in front of me. There were undercurrents to this conversation that I was clearly not privy to. The corners of Cameron's lip threatened to twitch downward into a frown as he tried to keep the pleasant smile plastered on his face. His parents didn't notice the struggle.
I was contemplating what to say when the waitress arrived with our food.
"Congratulations," I told Sharon as we made small talk over the food. "This must be very exciting for you."
She flashed me a bright smile. "It is exciting. There are lots of challenges to consider, of course. I'm still not sure what's going to happen, but the next few months are certainly going to be interesting."
"More like years, if you go through with it," Cameron murmured low enough so only I could hear.
For all that he had tried to seem happy for his mom, the words only came out sounding oddly sad.
When the waitress came and placed the bill on the table, Grant reached for it. Cameron snatched it up before he could take it.
"I've got this."
"Cam, honey," Sharon started.
"I'm a big boy," he threw out with a bright smile. It was almost too bright. "You don't need to take care of me."
Grant tilted his head at Cameron, a curious frown on his face. The motion reminded me of all the times Cameron had given me the same expression. As if he wanted to say something, but was thinking better of it.
I could sense a standoff about to happen.
"Why don't we split it?" I jumped in.
"That's a fine idea," Grant said with a nod to me.
I reached into my messenger bag to get out my wallet. Cameron pushed it away and shook his head.
"I've got yours."
I began to protest.
"You want to know my net worth?" he interrupted with a crooked grin.
"Fine," I gave in. "Pizza's on me next time."
We shared a quick smile.
"Lily, I would love to take you out sometime soon," Sharon said as we left the table. "A girls-only day, you and me. What do you say?"
That desperation was back again.
"Sure," I said hesitantly, flicking a glance to Cameron. I wondered if I should have asked him if it was okay first. He seemed oddly chagrinned.
"Wonderful!" The delight in Sharon's voice was impossible to mistake. "Let's exchange numbers and I'll give you a call."
It was weird entering my phone number into Cameron's mom's phone, like we were new besties.
We'd taken a taxi to the restaurant, so Cameron's parents drove us back to the mansion. His mom and I kept up the small talk, me discussing my classes, and her talking about the various charities she had worked with.
After dropping us off, Cameron's dad gave me a warm handshake. His mom gave me another tight squeeze. Her flowery perfume filled my nostrils again. This time, I held onto her a few moments too long. She didn't seem to mind. She just gave me a kind smile as they climbed into the car and drove away.
"Fuck."
That was all Cameron said as soon as they were out of sight.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
He exhaled loudly. "No. It's fine."
He mouth was pressed in a firm line, no trace of the bright smile he'd worn in front of his parents.
"You seemed happy for your mom back there," I said hesitantly. "Are you not?"
"It's just the same as always."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. I'm gonna go workout."
He left before I could say anything else, leaving me to wonder.
Exactly what kind of relationship did Cameron have with his parents?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cameron didn't sleep in my bed that evening. He'd made his excuses, saying he had to be out late, working in the recording studio, and didn't want to wake me when he got in.
It had been a long, lonely night.
I had intended to track him down the next day after my classes. I wanted to talk about that dinner. There had been something odd about the entire evening. Something off with Cameron's behavior around his parents.
Sharon and Grant were certainly different from how I'd imagined them. They weren't terrible monsters at all. They seemed to genuinely love their son. And Cameron clearly loved them.
He also clearly lived for their approval.
I wondered why that was. Nothing in their words or actions had led me to believe they disapproved of Cameron. He had probably been quite the wild child growing up, but whatever antics he had gotten up to hadn't created a strained relationship.
Except for that odd tension when Sharon talked about getting into politics
.
She said they would need to discuss what that would mean for their family.
When I stepped into the mansion foyer, backpack loaded with heavy-as-brick textbooks, my ears were immediately assaulted with the deep, bone-shaking tones of a bass guitar.
I followed the noise up the stairs and down a hallway to a closed door. I hesitated before knocking. I didn't know which room was Cameron's bedroom, but I knew it was on the second floor. I still hadn't been in it yet.
"Cameron?" I called through the door hesitantly.
No answer.
The music was loud enough that Cameron wouldn't have been able to hear me call through the door. The music was also loud enough that I couldn't imagine being able to get any studying done while Cameron kept it up.
I had been meaning to speak with him anyway. I might as well use the excuse that his music was bothering me. Otherwise, I'd have to admit that I was worried about him. Worried about whether or not he was okay.
I was sure the last thing Cameron wanted was for me to worry about him.
I forced myself to overcome my hesitation and decided to enter the room anyway. I pushed the door open a crack.
It was Cameron's bedroom. Or, there was a bed at the far end of the room. But that was the only piece of furniture that lead me to believe Cameron might sleep in there.
Instead, the place looked like it could have been a music store. A very disorganized music store.
Half a dozen guitars in their stands and two drum sets were scattered throughout the room. A small piano was situated in the corner across from his bed. Music sheets were scattered across every surface. Amps were stacked on top of one another with wires crisscrossing the floor.
The place was a mess. No wonder Cameron didn't want me to see it.
Cameron stood in the middle of the room, facing away from me. He held his bass guitar in both hands, wailing away at the strings. Although bass was part of the rhythm section, it sounded like Cameron was shredding. I didn't even know that was possible.
I'd rarely heard bass guitar solos before, but this one was impressive. Even with his back turned, the speed with which his fingers flew across the strings left me breathless.
Hard Rock Sin: A Rock Star Romance Page 13
