It’s my day off, and I finally pull myself out of bed around 9:30 a.m. Cameron has already left for work. I poke my head out of the room to make sure the maid isn’t around and scurry my naked ass back to my bedroom to put on some clothes. I can smell fresh-brewed coffee, so I make my way to the kitchen and find a note from Cameron.
Good morning, sleepyhead. You looked too gorgeous and peaceful, so I tried to slip out unnoticed. I set the coffee maker to go off around 9 a.m. and there’s a surprise for you in the fridge. Have a great day. ;-)
A huge grin spreads across my face as I read the note again. It feels like something changed between us last night. I don’t want to get too excited about a little note, though, so I grab a cup of coffee and head to my room to text El.
Hey girl, how’s the pregnancy? Baby still making you pee every 3.5 seconds?
Her response is almost immediate.
Funny you should ask! I just left my obstetrician. Everything is looking good, but yes, peeing nonstop and starting to feel like a giant gassy whale. What about YOU? Things any better since Grif talked to Cam?
My brows knit together, “What?” I say aloud.
What do you mean? Talk about what?
A second later, my phone is ringing and El’s name appears on the screen.
“Hey, what are you talking about?”
“Sorry, I thought you knew. A few weeks ago, Cam told Griffin you guys had some big fight and they went out for beers to talk. I’m guessing he didn’t say anything about it to you?”
“Well, obviously not.” As silly as it is, I can’t help but feel a little butthurt by it. Why was he talking to Griffin about me and our fight? “Do you know what they talked about?” I pick at the cuticle of my nail nervously.
“Well, like I said, some fight you guys had. I just know Griffin came home and was kind of laughing about it all. I guess Cameron told him he’d fucked up royally and that he wasn’t sure how to fix things. Seems like you guys were able to, though, since I haven’t received any ‘I’m going to kill him’ texts?”
“Yeah, we both said some things we shouldn’t have and apologized. Things have been great the past few weeks…” My voice trails off. I never told El that I slept with Cameron or that I went on the date with Dr. Ken. Before I can address either of those, though, she interrupts my thoughts.
“So, when were you going to tell me you slept with him then dumped him for Dr. McSexy?” Shit.
“About that. First of all, I didn’t dump him for Dr. Ken. We had a planned date that just wasn’t scheduled yet. But yeah, I screwed up, El. I slept with Cameron, but then when I went on my date with Ken, all I could think about was Cam! I wanted to tell him, but that’s when we had that big fight. I never got the chance, then I told him I thought it best that we stop our physical relationship since things were getting weird. I think…I think I was falling for him, but we’d both made it clear that this was just a no-strings-attached thing. But now…now I know I’m in love with him, and he’s finding out today if he landed the contract or not, so I’ll be out of his life soon.”
I can hear her let out a breath like she’s mulling over everything.
“You haven’t told him any of that?”
“No. I don’t want to end up like every other woman in his life. I keep telling myself that if I just ignore it, it will go away and I’ll get over my stupid little crush. But last night, El—last night was different. It felt like he was seeing me for the first time.”
“Sam, speaking from personal experience here, you need to tell the man how you feel. Otherwise, you’re going to live with regret and it’s not worth it. If he tells you that it meant nothing to him, then you’ll realize that he isn’t right for you. It would suck and be incredibly painful, but at least you’d have that closure.”
I know she’s right, but the thought of being so vulnerable with him is terrifying.
“You know, I thought for a minute the other night…no, never mind.”
“What, Sam? Tell me.”
“It’s nothing, honestly. I think I was dreaming, but I swear I heard him say, ‘I love you.’ We were both half-asleep, so I think I was just delusional.”
“That would be a dude thing to do,” she says.
“How about this: tonight he’ll tell me if he got the contract or not. I’ll see how he handles the next steps in our contract—the whole ‘breaking up and moving out’ thing. If he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to just toss the contract out the window, then I’m not going to tell him.”
“Well, I think that’s a completely stupid idea, but I’ve said my piece. Just know that I love you and support you, Sam. When this is all over, whatever the outcome, you’ll be fine because you’re strong. I’m sorry to just dip out, but this baby is about to make me pee myself, so I have to go. I love you, Sam. Keep me posted, okay?”
“I will, and thanks for the support, El. Good luck with the bladder issues. Get some diapers—for yourself, I mean!” I can hear her laughing when I hang up.
I decide a good way to set the scene for tonight is to return Cameron’s dinner date, only I’ll actually cook for him. I hit the gym for a quick run on the treadmill before showering and heading out to pick up some groceries.
I’m not a master chef by any stretch of the imagination, but I can cook a mean lamb chop. We were poor growing up, but once a year on Easter, my mom would save up for a lamp chop and let me help her with the preparations.
It’s nearing 6:30 p.m. when I hear the front door open. The aroma of the meat and the couscous salad I’ve made fill the apartment. I haven’t texted him to find out how today went, but I’ve presumptuously chilled a bottle of champagne.
“Smells amazing in here!” he says as he walks into the kitchen. “What’s the occasion?”
“Well, didn’t you have that big meeting with Mr. Smithfield and his team today?”
A big toothy grin spreads across his face. “I did, and we got him!” he says with his arms outstretched.
I’m not sure if he’s just pumping his fists in celebration or reaching out to me, so I give him a double high-five to be safe. I can see from the underwhelmed look on his face that he was hoping to pull me in for an embrace.
I turn back to the food and begin to dish up our plates. “Why don’t you go change? Dinner is almost ready.”
“What is it? It smells fantastic,” he says, reaching into one of the pots to dip his finger in some potatoes.
I playfully smack his hand away and he hurries off to go change.
When he emerges a few moments later, I’ve set the table and I hold two glasses of champagne in my hands. I hand him one as he walks back into the kitchen. He still has a look of confusion on his face as he takes the sparkling beverage.
“All this for the contract?”
I shrug, “Well, yeah, I mean, you’ve worked so hard and spent so much money I thought you’d want to celebrate.” I lift up my glass and he does the same. “To many more successes at Styles, Schmidt & Fitz, and to you getting your personal space back and me out of your hair.”
He stares at me blankly for a moment and then mutters a half-hearted “cheers” before downing the entire glass. I’m not sure what changed from the time he got home to now, but there’s once again a heavy tension hanging in the air. I make small talk but we mostly eat our dinner in silence. Every once in a while, he chimes in again about how good it all is.
After dinner, he helps me clear the table and clean up, but then retreats to his home office without a word. It’s like the warmth and closeness we had experienced last night have been sucked away. Maybe this is his way of making it clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me now that the contract has ended.
It’s all starting to make sense. This is probably how he handles most women in his life. He’s charming and funny at first—reeling them in before seducing them, and then poof!—cold and aloof so they get the hint and leave on their own so he doesn’t have to look like the bad guy. The more I think about it, the angri
er I become. I retreat to my room and begin to pack up my things. The contract stipulates that I have to stay another week after the deal is signed, but I don’t know if I can stick around that long.
I have to work the next two days from 7 a.m. - 7 p.m., then I’ll be off the following two days. I could pretty much miss seeing Cameron altogether with that schedule. If I stay a little late at work and eat dinner there tomorrow, he will most likely be in the gym when I get home. I’ll just slip into my room and stay there until I have to leave for work the next morning.
I should be able to find a place to live in no time. I pick up my phone and begin to frantically look at places within my budget since Cameron broke my lease early. I find two and email the management companies—begging them for a showing after work tomorrow. I need to get out of here before I end up spilling my guts to Cameron while having my heart ripped out.
Chapter 16
Cameron
I twirl the crystal tumbler around in my hand. Samantha’s message at dinner was loud and clear. She was happy and excited to be done with me. I guess I can’t blame her. I told her that she was just a quick, dirty fuck to me. But I’d changed, and my actions had shown that to her over the last few weeks. Hadn’t she noticed?
I get up and pour myself another glass of Scotch. I’m not actually getting any work done in my home office, but I don’t want to risk seeing her—watching her float around the house with her long legs and bright eyes. If she flashed that megawatt smile at me, I’d be a dead man.
I should have known last night when I told her I loved her and she didn’t reciprocate. At first I thought she had just fallen asleep, but now I realize she simply did that to spare me the shame of rejection.
I feel like a complete idiot. I swear there were moments she felt it too—this thing that’s between us. I take another big gulp of liquor and let it burn my throat on the way down. This just reconfirms why I don’t get involved in relationships.
I spend the next day and a half sulking. I figure, if I don’t have to see her, I won’t. I spend an extra amount of time in the gym, hoping I can punch and lift away my frustrations. I also indulge in an extra helping or two of Scotch at night, which I know isn’t helping my damn mood.
Finally, I can’t take my own sulking any longer and I knock on her bedroom door. There’s no answer. I look down at my watch and realize she’s probably still at work. I pop open the door to say hi to Cocoa, and when I see Sam’s room, I feel like I’ve been hit in the gut.
Everything is boxed up, except her blanket. Cocoa meows at me from her perch on the bed and it snaps me back to reality. She was just going to leave and not tell me?
I’m startled by a sound behind me. “Hey, you looking for something?” I turn around to see Samantha behind me in her scrubs.
“What the fuck, Sam?” I gesture toward the almost-empty room and the pile of boxes in the corner.
“What? Our contract is up at the end of the week and I figured I’d get a head start.” She pushes past me and walks into the room, tossing her bag on the bed and scratching Cocoa.
“Where are you going to live? You could have asked me to help, you know.” I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves instead of jumping to conclusions. That’s what got us in trouble last time.
“I’ve found a place in the suburbs, actually. I’ve been wanting to take a job out of the city in a private practice, and I have an interview at one tomorrow.”
I nod my head, trying to take it all in. “Can I help with anything?” I’m not really sure what to say.
“No, I’ve already called a mover and since it’s not a lot, they said they could knock it out in, like, two hours.”
I walk over to give Cocoa a scratch on her head and she begins to purr and rub against me. I can’t help but smile a little at her, but then an envelope with my name on it on the nightstand catches my eye.
I pick it up and open it. “No—don’t!” Sam says as she lunges for it, but I’m too quick. Her reaction has made me twice as curious now. I open it and see a letter: a goodbye letter. I scan it as my heart falls to my stomach.
“You were going to leave without telling me, weren’t you?” She’s staring at her feet. “Look at me, Samantha!” The words come out of my mouth in sharp barks.
She jolts upward in shock. “Well, I guess I’m not now,” she says, anger burning in her eyes.
I’m hurt. It’s not anger or frustration that’s boiling up inside me—it’s hurt. I had hoped I was reading the signs wrong the entire time, but this validates my fear: she wants nothing to do with me.
I toss the letter back onto the nightstand and make my way out of the room. I stop briefly, and without turning around, say, “I won’t get in your way, Sam. The other check will be on the counter for you in the morning. Have a nice life.” I shut the door behind me and head back to my room.
It’s been barely a week since she moved out. She didn’t say goodbye, didn’t leave me her address, and didn’t even text me. She just left that damn letter on the counter next to the ring. Talk about a kick to the fucking stomach.
I stare out the window at the city, but the light behind me causes me to catch my reflection in the window. I’m unshaven and unkempt. My hair is a wild mess, and I’m pretty positive I haven’t showered in three days.
It physically hurts—that’s how much I miss her. I even miss the damn cat. I miss the way she always hummed “Moon River” on repeat while she did pretty much anything.
Griffin has tried to reach out to me a few times, but I’ve told him I’m not in the mood. My law partners are worried sick, but I’ve just told them it’s a bout of pneumonia and that I’ll be back in no time.
If I’m honest, I thought that if a woman ever got to me, I’d bounce back like it was nothing. I always figured that, after a few hours of reflection, I’d be back in the clubs looking for my next conquest…but nope. This real love shit is the worst. No wonder Griffin was a wreck when he heard El had skipped town. At least he had the balls to go after her. Heartbreak is no joke.
I groan as I rub my hands over my face. The doorbell buzzes, bringing me out of my moment of wallowing. I check the time on my phone, “Who the fuck is here this late?” I walk to the front door and barely get it open before El is pushing her way into my house.
“You have to go talk to her!” She’s barely over five feet tall, but she has her finger pointed right up in my face.
“Hello, El, nice to see you too.”
“I’m serious, Cameron, you need to tell her how you feel. And before you try to deny it, you look like complete shit. You have ‘heartbroken, lovesick, and hung over’ written all over your unshaven face.” Jesus, this woman has a flea up her ass, though she isn’t wrong.
“Trust me, El, I made my intentions clear to her. I told her I loved her and she didn’t reciprocate.” I turn around and walk farther into the kitchen in search of a much-needed bottle of water.
“You what? She never said anything about that. When did that happen?” She looks deflated.
“Over a week ago. I had apologized to her and we had an amazing night and I was holding her and whispered it in her ear.” I can’t believe I’m confessing this to her.
“OH. MY. GOD. Cam, she thought she was dreaming! She told me that she thought she heard you say that, but she figured you were asleep or she had imagined it or was dreaming or something.”
I stand there a little dumbfounded. Shit. Maybe she really had been asleep.
“Well, it’s too late anyway, El. She’s dating that doctor, and I’m sure he can give her the whole suburban fantasy of kids and a minivan or whatever.”
She rolls her eyes, “Man, you really are something stupid.” Her words shock me.
“She isn’t dating Dr. McSe—Dr. Ken. She went on one date with him and told me that she couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time. She doesn’t even work at his hospital anymore.” She throws her hands up in the air and walks over to grab a bottle of water.
“You know, it’s astounding how little you two communicated throughout all of this. Sure, you slept together, but would it have killed either of you to just say, ‘Hey, I like you. Can we try this?’ I mean, my God, I am pissed out of my pregnant mind because of you! Next time, do me a favor and exhaust all of your options before you guys turn this into some big drawn-out thing that nearly sends me into labor. Jesus!”
I can’t help but laugh a little at her outburst and the fact that I’ve been wallowing for no reason. The poor woman rubs her belly before darting to the bathroom. I can’t believe I completely misread everything. I’m such a fucking idiot. But then panic hits me again. Just because she isn’t dating the doctor doesn’t mean she wants to be with me. She still celebrated leaving here and ran at the first chance. She’s never tried contacting me or telling me how she feels.
I’m deep in thought when El emerges from the bathroom. “Do yourself a favor and don’t starting questioning things. I can see it all over your face. She’s in love with you, Cameron. She told me weeks ago, but like you, she misread everything and made her own crazy assumptions instead of just telling you how she feels. Though in her defense, your track record with leaving women high and dry freaked her out.”
“Yeah, not to mention I also told her the last woman I’d been with was a hookup in a public restroom at a club.”
She has a totally reasonable look of disgust on her face, “Why? Just why, Cam?” She rolls her eyes and makes her way toward the door. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. But be warned,” she turns to face me and grabs a fistful of my shirt, causing my 6’4” frame to bend down to her eye level, “if you hurt her or treat her like some piece of ass, I will honor my earlier promise: I will rip your balls off—CLEAN OFF!” She emphasizes the last two words with a grabbing motion. I can’t help but be a little scared as I swallow down the lump in my throat. “We clear?” she asks.
I stand up and smooth out my shirt as she walks out the front door. “Crystal clear,” I say after her. Sam is the one woman I’m not letting get away. Not a chance in hell.
Claimed By Him: (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 83
