The Real

by Kate Stewart

  He gauged my reaction and shook his head.

  “Okay, so this isn’t it. In fact, it’s nothing. A driveway. Nothing else.”

  “Let’s go, Cameron,” I said as calmly as possible.

  “I’m getting you out of here, baby.”

  I melted at his term of endearment as he put the car in reverse, gassed it . . . and we didn’t move.

  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath as I told myself not to panic.

  He slowly eased on the gas again and the SUV jolted as if it were free and then, spun tires.

  “You don’t have snow tires?!” I asked in calm observation.

  “Abbie, baby, don’t yell. It’s okay.”

  “I’m not yelling!” I yelled.

  “You’re panicking.”

  “I’m not panicking!” I panicked.

  “We’re okay, Abbie.”

  “I’m fine!”

  I was close to hyperventilating. I had to trust Cameron. He was a manly man. He could definitely give the woods a run for its money.

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  Cameron sighed as he hit the gas again and lodged us where we sat. He slammed his palms against the steering wheel. “FUCK!”

  “We’re stuck?” I asked as he hung his head and slowly nodded.

  “I’ve got some stuff in the back,” he said, glancing over at me. “I’ll get us out.”

  “Okay, can I help?”

  I was already shaking as he leaned over.

  “Abbie, don’t freak out, okay? It’s a test, and we’re going to pass it. Matter of fact, I’ll wager with you right here and now that within an hour, I’m going to cook you the best steak of your life and we’re going to laugh about this in that hot shower you want so badly. We’ll wear matching flannel pajamas—you top me bottom—while we watch movies and then wear no pajamas while I watch you come. That’s how tonight is going to go, okay?”

  I nodded.

  “Trust me?”

  “Yes,” I said with a sigh. “Just hurry up and get me out of here.”

  “How do you like your steak?”

  Before I could answer, he was out of the SUV and lifting the lid of the trunk. All I could hear was the howl of the storm and the metal clacking behind me.

  I pitched my voice back at him in warning. “If you’re thinking about making any jokes right now at my expense, like merely fucking around that you may be hurt or in trouble in any way, I’m warning you, I will make you cry and you will lose a testicle.”

  “That’s my witchy woman.” He chuckled as I heard the clatter of iron and a few grunts.

  Manly grunts.

  Because Cameron was all man. But it did little to ease my nerves as he circled the SUV.

  A few minutes later, confidence high, Cameron got back into the SUV and put the truck into gear. I clasped my hands together in silent prayer as he hit the gas.

  “Man, it’s really coming down,” Cameron said as I glared at the side of his head. We’d been in the truck for hours and the snow wasn’t stopping. He’d avoided my eyes for the last hour as we sat in the pitch dark, stuck in the dead-end driveway in the middle of a snowstorm, in the woods.

  My back plastered to my seat, I continually looked out the windows, checking and double checking the locks to make sure no one could open the door. I should’ve felt safe with Cameron, but even if he’d multiplied by ten and surrounded the vehicle with heavy artillery, I would have been on edge.

  “Abbie—”

  “Don’t you even say it. Don’t you even think about leaving me here. It’s not happening.”

  “Abbie, listen—”

  “If we die, we die together.”

  Cameron chuckled. “I know you have to use the bathroom. I’ve gone twice.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Abbie.”

  I turned to him with what I was sure were laser beams coming out of my retinas.

  “Why? Why did you bring me to the woods?”

  “I don’t feel safe enough at the moment to answer that question.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I guess because I thought somehow I could get you to like it if we—”

  “If we what?”

  “If we made good memories here.” He shrugged.

  I bit my lips in an attempt to keep the smart mouthed reply idle on my tongue.

  “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.

  “It was a nice gesture,” I ground out. “Misplaced, but nice.”

  “Are you mad?”

  I turned to look at him and saw the disappointment in his features. I climbed onto his lap for the second time that day. He smiled as he palmed my ass.

  “No. I mean, yes, it’s my worst nightmare come to life. But, hey, fears are meant to be conquered, right? Please, do tell me what your worst fear is so I can return the favor and make it just as romantic for you someday.” I bat my eyelashes and his body shook with his laugh.

  “Point taken.”

  “I do have to pee.”

  “I know.”

  “Once we do this,” I warned, “there’s no going back. All the sweet etiquette of our new union will be erased. You will have seen me squat.”

  “I’ll turn my back. But I can live with it.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “Come on.” He moved to open the door.

  “WAIT!” I shrieked.

  “Okay,” he said, taking his hand off the handle.

  “Just give me a mental moment. Tell me something. Anything.”

  “The Bears won.”

  “Something else.”

  “We’re still sitting on three-quarters of a tank of gas.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “We won’t freeze to death.”

  “That’s reassuring in a terrifying way,” I said, swallowing.

  “It’s a real possibility if we don’t get the hell out of here.”

  “Cameron, please don’t try to leave me here alone.”

  He nodded. “We can’t be far from the cabin. Check your phone for a signal.”

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw I still had zero bars.

  “Nothing. Yours?”

  He pulled his phone out and shook his head.

  “How in the hell was I supposed to work out here?”

  “I was told there was WIFI. Abbie, if I can make it to the main road—”

  “You aren’t going out in a blizzard with zero visibility. It’s not happening. I’m not that bossy of a girlfriend, I promise, but I’m not swaying on this shit.”

  “Okay,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Okay.”

  He pressed his full lips together, trying to stifle a laugh. “How mad are you?”

  “On a scale of one to ten?”

  “Yes.”

  I looked out the window and shook my head. “I’m really not. I just want us to get through this and have our weekend. I could use a steak.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No more apologizing. If I must be stuck here, I’d rather it be with you. You know that.”

  “I do now.”

  “Cameron,” I said with a sigh.

  “Yeah?”

  “This was really sweet. Even if you are going to indirectly kill me in the woods.”

  He reached out a hand and brushed some hair away from my face. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it.”

  “I believe you believe that.”

  “You don’t think it’s true?”

  “I think you’d do everything you can to make it true. But you can’t promise me anything bad won’t happen. It’s not in your power.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I don’t want to be,” I said in a whisper, “but I know better.”

  “Well, I can promise you this,” he whispered back. “I can promise you I will never bring you to the woods again as a surprise and end up stuck in a fucking creepy dead-end driveway in a snowstorm.”

  I laughed and pulled
him to me. “Good enough.”

  “God, you smell so fucking good. What is that?”

  “My shampoo, I think. I don’t know. I have an entire bathroom counter of girly crap on.”

  “It’s fucking tasty.”

  “Tasty?”

  “Yes, you smell good enough to eat.”

  My stomach rumbled.

  “And you’re hungry,” he said, gripping the wheel and rocking back and forth in aggravation, jostling me in his lap.

  “Look at you,” I said with a laugh. “Getting all moody. I bet you’re sexy pissed off.”

  “I just feel like I could be doing more. What in the hell was I thinking? I live in Chicago and forgot to get snow tires! In my defense, I bought this out of state.”

  I laughed as he looked at me, exasperated.

  “I’m telling you, Coach, people have no business outside of civilization. Nothing good ever happens in the woods. This is where the crazies come to congregate, multiply, and plot.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?” Cameron asked. “You think that concrete jungle we call home is safer?”

  “I think that if we were in Chicago right now we wouldn’t be sitting targets in the middle of the woods.”

  “Even so, Chicago is the most dangerous city in the US. Talk about safety in numbers being an illusion.”

  I shrugged. “I have mace.”

  “Well, that changes everything.” He rolled his eyes.

  “You aren’t safe anywhere, with anyone,” I said with a bite. “The BTK killer was married. Like happily married and no one knew what a psycho he was for over a decade. Bind, Torture, Kill, and go home and eat meatloaf before you read the kids a bedtime story. Doesn’t that baffle you? Like, how do you ever really know someone?”

  “You have to trust them.”

  “Trusting doesn’t mean knowing, two distinct definitions,” I said with a little more bite.

  “Abbie?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “But you did, so tell me.”

  “No,” I said, feigning a smile.

  “That smile was fake. This is on your mind. Talk to me about it.”

  “That’s not part of our deal,” I said, moving to my seat before I began nervously messing with the vents.

  “How long are we going to do this?” he asked, turning in his seat to face me. “Why can’t I know?”

  “We agreed.”

  “That was then,” he pressed. “This isn’t a game.”

  “It’s never been a game to me,” I defended. “And I told you that.”

  “Fine, an experiment,” he relented. “I won’t fight with you. It’s the last thing I want.”

  “Then let’s table this. Okay?” I’d been creeped out enough for one day. The last thing I wanted to talk about was Luke.

  “Okay.”

  The air had changed between us, regardless of our truce. I hated it. Loathed it. It was always when things got heavy that everything changed. That’s why I would fight as long as I could to keep the old hurts and resentment away. It had no place between us.

  “Want to play a game?” I asked as he rubbed a knuckle along the steering wheel. He looked over at me and read my expression. I was pleading with him to help me fix the strangling air between us.

  “I brought some booze. Want me to get it?” he offered.

  “Why in the hell didn’t you say anything before now?!”

  He grinned as he jumped out of the vehicle and opened the trunk. Seconds later, he was back in the driver’s seat with my choice of Tito’s vodka or Maker’s Mark.

  “Perfect!” I said, grabbing the vodka. “Let’s do this.”

  “That. Is. Insane,” Cameron roared hysterically. “I can’t believe we’ve been drinking coffee all this time when all I had to do was give you vodka!”

  I grinned over at him and rolled my eyes. “You act like I never told you this.”

  “Seeing is believing, baby,” he said as he tilted the bottle of vodka and took a healthy sip. We’d drank a good bit of it and were both feeling the effects.

  “Wow, wow,” he said as he watched me unfasten his tie and free my hands.

  Minutes before, I’d stripped him of his maroon tie and told him to fasten my hands behind my back. Apparently, for Cameron, the fact that I was double jointed was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

  I had the ability to roll my bound hands over my head, but I’d decided to make it more interesting by having him use his tie on me. Basically, if I wanted to take my act on the road, I could be the Houdini of handcuffs.

  “That’s fucking wild,” he said as he shook his head.

  “Yeah, my mom screamed the first time I did it in front of her.”

  “What else can you do?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” I said, waggling my brows.

  “I’m so fucking turned on.”

  I shook my head. “Of course you are.”

  “Hey, don’t take that tone with me. You are the one putting ideas in my head.”

  “You pig.”

  “Oink,” he said, pulling me into his lap. “You little weirdo.”

  “Hey, I don’t see you performing any party tricks,” I defended as he brushed his nose against mine.

  “True, I’m lacking talent in that department. Why don’t you let me make up for it with enthusiasm?” He pushed his hips up, and I bounced on his thighs.

  “Hmmm, you’ve got a little making up to do before you get all of this.” I motioned to myself. “And I can’t believe you watched me pee in the snow. Reason one million why I hate the woods.”

  “I didn’t watch. You screamed, and I had no choice but to look,” he said, bordering on a slur.

  “Well, I felt something.”

  “Sure you did,” he said, amused.

  I traced his jaw with my finger. “I bet you were popular in high school. Did you play football?”

  “Yes, Ms. Random. And soccer too, but when I was younger.”

  “Date a cheerleader?”

  “Yep.”

  “Prom king?”

  He bit his lip.

  “Really? Prom king too?”

  A sharp nod.

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “I never even danced at my prom. My date was a dick. He only wanted to go to the after parties and get my dress off.”

  “Did he succeed?”

  “Noooo. He was a dick. I’m no killjoy. But I was around when the fake yawn, arm stretch around the shoulder move still existed, and now it’s not even a thing anymore. And I never got a second look from the king.”

  “I would have looked at you, Abbie.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’ve seen my party tricks. Trust me, back then I wasn’t your type, and you probably weren’t mine.”

  “Oh, really?” he said with a smirk. Clutching his fists at his chest, he opened his mouth wide before stretching his arms out beside him and curling them around me.

  He executed it perfectly, and I leaned in and kissed him.

  “Dance with me,” he asked softly. “Now, here in the real world where none of that shit ever mattered. Where all that really matters is what you think of me now.”

  “Let’s address that when we aren’t stranded in the woods,” I said, feathering my fingers through the soft hair at the back of his neck.

  “Fine, dance with me.”

  “You want me to dance with you? In the woods?”

  “Yeah,” he prompted, pressing his fingers into my hips.

  “Uhhh, no.”

  “Come on, you’re the one who said romance is dead. I’m willing to try to prove that theory wrong.” With no effort, he deposited me back in my seat and picked up his phone.

  “Cameron, I’m not dancing with you in the woods.”

  “Are you really afraid?” he asked with a hint of a smile as he flipped through his music. I looked around us and thanked the vodka for the brass
balls I’d grown in the last few hours.

  “No, thanks to Tito, and his vodka, I’m feeling pretty relaxed.”

  “Okay then,” he said as he chose a song and set his phone on the console. The heavy bass and whining guitar of “Witchy Woman” by the Eagles started to play.

  “Funny,” I said as his dimples shone through the dim light of the cabin. The interior light lit up the rest of his shit-eating grin as he opened his door and walked past the headlights to get to mine.

  “I’m not even close to finished wooing you,” he whispered as he led me to stand in front of the high beams.

  My hands in his, he kissed each of my wrists before he pulled them around his neck and began to move with me plastered to his body. I followed his lead with ease while he swayed his hips. With no space between us and far too many clothes, I burrowed into his warmth.

  Spotlighted by his high beams in the middle of nowhere, he slid his hands up and down the inside of my jacket, caressing me and lighting me up with need. Languid, we floated on a subzero cloud, fully immersed in the other. We were a little drunk, but more consumed by our connection.

  Cameron began a slow grind as we drunk-danced in the snow. Twisting my hips, I put on a little show as he watched my movements, and his grin let me know he liked what he was seeing.

  One thing I knew without him saying was that Cameron loved to dance. I loved that about him. I loved that he was so confident and had a way of making me feel comfortable when I was out of my element.

  We laughed as we stumbled a little in our footing, our bodies bouncing in rhythm. I pushed out my lips as I shimmied up to him, and he turned me around so my back was to his chest.

  Party of two, we were getting down in the woods, dancing and giddy. I felt free, I felt important, and I felt loved.

  That moment was one of the happiest of my life.

  When the song ended, I moved to head toward the SUV, but he pulled me back to him.

  “One more dance,” he said as “Hand Me Down” by Matchbox Twenty filtered through the speakers. Cameron began to sing to me, his vodka-laced breath covering my neck, the words of the song touching me deeply.

  I followed his lead while he subtly moved, more intent on singing than dancing. Every second of that dance cemented itself in my heart.

  If there was ever a definition of woo, it was the fine-ass man singing to me about what I deserved.