“Stay with me.” He brought my hand up to his mouth and placed a kiss across my knuckles that looked innocent to anyone who might have been watching the interaction, but when his tongue darted out and licked me, felt anything but innocent.
“I’m not going anywhere. Just to aisle three for salsa.”
“I’ll go with you then.” He pulled me against him, back to front, before kissing his way across my exposed neck.
“We’d get a lot more done if you stuck to your list and I stuck to mine.”
“I’d like to be stuck to you.” He waggled his brows and grinned.
“Yes, that’s more than obvious,” I said, running my hand down his thigh to find him rock hard. “Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed to be traipsing through Ralph’s with an epic erection?”
“Nope,” he responded with absolutely no shame as he moved my hand to cup him.
There was no one in the aisle with us but there were security cameras in the store and I didn’t plan on giving them a naughty show. I squeezed him through his jeans and dragged my hand away but instead of letting me go, Cameron pulled me closer – if that was at all possible – and rested his chin on my shoulder and whispered into my ear, “I never thought the grocery store a particularly sexy place, but I can’t help thinking about all the dirty, kinky things I want to do to you. The strawberries and sparkling wine in our cart feature prominently.” He nipped my neck and dragged his tongue over the spot to soothe the sting of his teeth.
I smiled and tilted my head to give him better access. When he sucked the skin of my shoulder into his mouth, my whole body trembled. It was a good thing he had such a tight hold on me because my knees were moments away from giving out.
“I’m more than happy to indulge those fantasies, but not here. Go get the chips.” There was absolutely no conviction in my voice, and my body betrayed me when my ass wiggled involuntarily against his hard length. Our bodies were separated by denim and cotton but I swore I could feel him pulse between my cheeks, resting tantalizingly close to that spot no man had ever touched. He canted his hips toward me, just enough to remind me of his presence at my rear, and the delicious friction made me see stars. I’d never wanted it like that, but if he could feel this good against me with our clothes on, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like naked to have him there.
“If you keep doing that,” he whispered, “I’m going to have to drag you to the car and fuck you senseless.”
Rolling my bottom lip between my teeth, something I’d quickly learned drove him absolutely crazy, I glanced over my shoulder and rubbed up against him. “You promise?”
He let out a pained moan. “Damn you,” he laughed and stepped away. “You called my bluff.”
I shrugged and walked to the end of the aisle, Cameron trailing in my wake. I might have called his bluff but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to. I missed the feel of him against me, grinding in to me. Public sex in a parking lot didn’t sound so bad right about now. After all, it wasn’t as if we had a problem going at each other in the car. In fact, once the awkward fumbling to remove our clothes was over, we were actually quite good at it. Still, a deserted parking lot at the beach was a much different prospect than a sparsely populated city one.
While a night of drunken sex and then amazing make-up sex had tipped the scales, I hadn’t anticipated how blatantly sexual and proprietary Cameron would be toward me. In the normal course of things, he wasn’t what you’d describe as an alpha male so this more assertive side of him was surprising. Damn sexy too, especially since I’d seen him with other women and he’d never acted this way toward them. This was a whole new side of him I’d had no idea existed.
Back when John Mayer had discussed Jessica Simpson with Playboy, I found the interview sexist and repugnant, but now I totally understood at least one of points. Cameron was, to quote Meyer, sexual napalm who had the power to burn me to the ground. I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to it.
Three hundred dollars later, we were driving to my house in the Hills, Cameron’s left hand glued to my thigh as we drove in relative silence. I probably should have been tired – lord knew my body was exhausted – but I was too keyed up to even think of resting despite only sleeping for a couple of hours last night. Later, while I prepped food for the party, Cameron read through the responses his earlier text had generated. I’d glanced at the first batch but hadn’t had an opportunity to read through the rest.
“Carly says she always knew there was something going on between us.”
I heard, rather than saw, his smile. “Well, I’m glad she knew because I certainly didn’t,” I said over my shoulder as I tossed a dozen chicken thighs in a Greek marinade.
“And Mike sends his condolences for having to deal with me for the rest of your life.”
“Mike would know.” I laughed as I washed my hands and turned to lean against the counter. Mike and Cameron had grown up together and had been intermittent roommates since moving to L.A. fourteen years ago. If any two people knew each other’s living habits it was them.
“Justin says I’m a lucky man.”
“You are.”
“Jennifer says you’re a lucky girl.”
“I am.”
As he scrolled through other messages, I wondered if he’d kept his love for me a secret. Had any of his friends known about his feelings? Had anyone other than Carly suspected?
“Did Mike know?” I blurted, taking a couple of steps across the kitchen to stand across from him.
He looked up and smirked. “Of course.” Setting the phone down, he reached across to take my hand. “Two months ago he told me I was going to lose you if I didn’t say something.” He squeezed and my heart constricted.
“Did he …” I started, hating to bring it up, but doing so anyway. “Did he know about what happened before?”
He glanced down at our joined hands and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. “Yes.” He looked up and our eyes locked. “He said I was a fool who needed to grovel at your feet.” He took a deep breath as if to gather courage to say more, but I decided I didn’t want to talk about it any longer. There was no use dredging up those memories since it’d only hurt both of us. I resolved to keep it in the past since we had so much happiness in our future to look forward to.
“And look how well groveling worked,” I responded breezily, canting the top of my body across the counter to kiss him. As I approached, the sadness left his eyes and his brow relaxed, the lines of consternation retreating.
“Thank you for forgiving me,” he said, not letting the subject drop.
“What’s done is done.” I kissed the tip of his nose. “We can dwell on it, gnash our teeth, or we can accept it happened and led us to where we are today.”
“I know but …” he trailed off and I got the impression he had more to say but didn’t quite know how to express his thoughts.
I don’t know when it had happened – probably when he’d asked me to marry him – but I legitimately wasn’t angry at him anymore. I still suffered a twinge of hurt and regret and yeah, I’d always remember the pain of him walking out on me and then the sense of abandonment I felt in the ensuing month, but I figured if I had to endure all that in order for us to be sitting here planning our engagement party, I was willing to accept that month in exchange.
Making may way out of my u-shaped kitchen to stand behind him, I wrapped my arms around his torso and rested my cheek against his back, my arms locked against his tight abs. “Listen up because I’m only going to say this once. I don’t want to hear you apologize for that night ever again.”
“But—”
“No more ‘buts’ Cameron. What’s done is done. I’m fine.” As I spoke I knew my words to be one hundred percent true. I was fine. It was amazing how a man asking you to marry him went a long way to abolish doubt, no?
He turned so we faced one another and I stepped into the space he’d created between his thighs. When he wrapped his strong arms around I rested my cheek
against his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart. I felt a measure of peace in that sound, and as if I’d found my home in his arms. We stood that way for several minutes, the warmth of our bodies seeping in to each other, the sounds of our breathing and heartbeats blending in a perfect rhythm.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” He dropped a kiss on top of my head as his hands caressed my back.
“I am,” I mumbled, laughter lacing my words. I felt his chest rumble under my cheek.
“What time is it?” I asked, finally overcome with exhaustion.
“The clock on your microwave says 7 a.m., so 6:45.”
(Yes, I set all of my clocks ahead hoping it would help with my chronic lateness. I’ll let you know when it works.) I took a deep breath that came out in a yawn. “I think I’m going to take a nap for a couple of hours.”
“Yeah, good idea.”
As we walked from the kitchen to the bedroom, two thoughts jumped into my head, knocking away my sleepiness.
First, Cameron hadn’t gone back to his place once since we’d gotten back from Zuma which meant the only clean clothes he had here were random ones that had accumulated over the years. I glanced back over my shoulder as we shuffled like zombies across the room. Yup, still wearing his jeans from Friday and his shirt was a ratty one that’d been in my bottom drawer for over a year.
My second and more important realization was that we still hadn’t talked about the movie and now that I had a moment of quiet, I was concerned about his obvious evasion. I’d tried to raise the topic a few times only for him to change the subject. I felt guilty that I’d let him, that I continued letting him because now wasn’t a good time to broach the subject either, but I desperately wanted him to share with me what he was afraid of. Because that’s what I thought it was: fear. Cornering someone and forcing them to discuss their fears was a sure recipe for disaster, and with Cameron being prone to running when the going got tough, I didn’t want to push those buttons.
In the bathroom, I removed my jewelry and brushed my teeth. Here’s a weird quirk about me most people don’t know: if I’m going to sleep, even if it’s just a short nap, I absolutely have to brush my teeth. I cannot go to bed with stank mouth; bad breath is like kryptonite to me. Funnily enough, Cameron has known this about me for years and has never teased me about it. Now he pulled out the toothbrush I’d given him and brushed his teeth at the same time. I stole quick, furtive glances at him in the mirror, still caught off guard by his presence in my house … in my life.
As we went about my sleepy-time ritual with silly toothpaste grins on our face, I was grateful for the dual vanities in my bathroom, silently thankful to my mom for insisting on the feature when I’d gone house hunting with her. At the time I’d abhorred her constant harping about the lack of a man in my life and her telling me that when I did manage to snag a man, I’d understand why she’d insisted on a place with two sinks. It pained me to admit she’d been right. There was no way in hell I’d ever tell her so however.
I stripped down to my underwear and climbed under the blankets but Cameron hadn’t joined me. In fact, he stood staring down at the bed as nervous energy poured off him in waves.
Resting back on my elbows, I asked what the problem was.
“I know I’ve been sleeping on the other side of the bed but …” His eyes flicked to mine and immediately I understood.
“You want this side?”
“I don’t want to put you out,” he responded sheepishly, running his hand through tousled locks. His hand was starting to look much better – the swelling had gone down significantly and only one area around his knuckle remained green and purple – and he no longer winced when he used it.
“It’s a big bed Cameron. You’re not putting me out. Besides,” I said, scooching over, “I don’t actually have a side. I’ve always slept in middle.”
I fluffed the covers and settled into the other side of the bed, expecting Cameron to climb in next to me. When he didn’t move to join me I looked over my shoulder to catch him getting completely, gorgeously naked. When he dropped his boxers around his ankles and stepped out of them, he glanced up to find me gaping at him.
“What?” An impish smile slashed across his face. “You’ve seen me naked before.”
I swallowed. “I guess I didn’t realize you sleep naked all the time.”
“It’s not a problem, is it?”
How cute was he, worrying whether or not his fucking fantastic naked body laying next to me was going to be a problem?
“Of course not,” I responded, my color reddening as I imagined being able to do wonderful, wicked things to him any time I wanted. “I’m warning you though; I probably won’t be able to keep my hands off you. If I roll over to find your body all warm and naked next to me I’m not liable for my actions.” I waggled my brows. “Are you willing to take the risk?”
He chortled. “However will I manage?” He climbed under the covers and as he settled into the space I’d vacated, said, “Oh shit, I forgot my phone.”
His words reminded me I’d left my phone in the other room too. Also, I’d forgotten to lock the door. This being L.A., anytime I went to sleep, regardless if it was 7 a.m. or 11 p.m., I locked my damn doors. I lived in a generally safe neighborhood, but I’d lived on my own as a single woman far too long not to worry about things like rapists and serial killers. With Cameron here the past few nights, I’d forgotten some of my regular rituals, but no way was I forgetting about safety. Ours or my dog’s. I also needed to make sure Duke’s doggy door was locked so he couldn’t get out unsupervised. During the day the precaution was more about keeping him from digging up my plants or chasing squirrels, but at night I worried about him tangling with coyotes, foxes, or mountain lions. At this early hour, any of those scenarios were plausible.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it. I forgot to do a couple of things as well.” I blew him a kiss as I wandered out of the room. He’d tossed his hands behind his head which gave me a perfectly framed picture of his body in repose. My fingers itched for a canvas and my paints so I could capture his magnificence. I smiled greedily, knowing I’d convince him to let me paint him someday soon. What we used for paint and whether or not it actually made it onto a surface other than his big, gorgeous body was debatable.
Locks thrown and the doggy door secured, I called for Duke to follow me into the bedroom and stopped to grab our phones. I don’t know whether it was reflex or curiosity, but when I saw his phone hadn’t locked and the screen was open to a text messages, I read it. I really wish I hadn’t
Jake: You’re a fucking fool. You’re about to be able to get any pussy you want. What a waste.
I recognized the name, Jake Donovan. I liked Jake well enough and had always thought the feeling mutual. Apparently, however, that was the case only in so far as I wasn’t tied to Cameron romantically. Anger, a cold fury, coursed through me and I felt tears sting the back of my eyes as the screen blurred in front of me. Who the fuck did Jake think he was to cast judgment like that? He was nothing. A no one, I told myself. He wouldn’t know a good, solid relationship if it walked up and punched him in the face. Since I’d known him, Jake had run through a string of women, one empty-headed, plastic blonde after the next, all interchangeable copies. At first our group had tried to make each of them feel welcome, but it became apparent after the third or fourth one he introduced us to that they wouldn’t be around for more than a month at most. He actually didn’t care if we welcomed them into the group or not. So yeah, Jake was an asshole who didn’t deserve my tears. So what if his words echoed the exact sentiment I’d been worried about ever since Cameron admitted his feelings for me. Shit, even before then.
Jake was inconsequential, but the question that burned in my brain was whether or not he was alone in his wretched opinion or if others shared it. Mike, Carly, Jennifer, and Justin had all sent their congratulations and support for our wild, madcap romance. Surely others did as well?
I read thro
ugh a chain of messages on his phone, justifying the action since I reasoned they’d be on my phone as well. The first several set my mind at ease.
James: Congratulations you crazy kids!
Charlie: I knew it! Congrats!
Sinclair: About time …
Dad: It took you two long enough.
Jennifer: I’m so happy for you. You can tell how much you love each other.
Additional messages followed in a similar vein. The people I felt closest to, those we spent the most time with, remained overwhelmingly supportive of us. It also looked like Cameron and I were the only ones who hadn’t known how we felt about one another. I shook my head wonderingly and asked myself again, how had we let so much time pass without figuring it out?
Knowing I shouldn’t continue reading his messages but not able to stop myself, I flicked over to the main text folder and saw a number of messages that hadn’t been part of the group thread. Since Cameron used a pretty lengthy preview for incoming emails and texts I was able to see the tone of these messages were much different than the others. I felt my stomach drop to somewhere around my knees. Hands shaking, I opened them one after another, and my eyes widened as each became progressively worse. Nausea rising in my throat, I read them all.
James: I like Sarah and all but really? I wouldn’t think she’s your type. She’s not bad, but you’ve had better.
Adam: It’s not April 1 so why the joke?
Noah: Is she knocked up? You fucked her and she’s pregnant, right?
Mason: Even if she’s pregnant you don’t have to marry her.
Josh: Didn’t see that coming. You sure she’s the one? You know I love Sarah but I never thought she’d be who you ended up with.
Ben: Are you sure you want to be tied down, especially now?
Lucas: You’re throwing your life away.
Ethan: Are you out of your mind? Tell me you’re kidding, man.
Charles: No fucking way!
Steve: How convenient for her.
Carl: You held out for Sarah? Do you need your head examined?
Lucky Star: A Hollywood Love Story Page 11
