“No, that’ll be your brother.”
“Step-brother,” I groaned, and Cameron laughed. The soft sound drifting over me, wrapping me up like a warm blanket. “You have a nice laugh,” I said, my eyes fluttering closed.
“And you’re drunker than I realized. How are you getting home tonight?”
“I think I’m going to sleep riiiight here.” I stretched my arms above my head, nestling further into the chair but then my world tilted as strong hands yanked me up.
“Oh no you don’t,” Cameron said. “You can stay here. Asher won’t mind.”
“Flick... I need to tell Flick.” The words came out jumbled as he kept his arm around me and guided me back toward the house.
People called his name, called mine too, as he wound us through the sea of bodies still drinking and laughing. But it was strange. I didn’t feel like they were laughing at me. Not this time. But then, maybe all the vodka in my bloodstream was giving me a false sense of confidence. Maybe I’d already fallen asleep and this was all a dream.
Either way, wrapped in Cameron’s arms, it wasn’t the worst place to be.
Even if I did hate him.
“Almost there,” he said as we hit the top stair.
“Asher has a nice house,” I mumbled as he paused at a door. I watched through glassy eyes as Cameron dug out a key from his wallet and unlocked the door. “That isn’t creepy at all.”
“You think I let just anyone stay in my room?” His eyes darkened, pinning me to the spot, stealing the snarky reply right off the tip of my tongue.
His room?
He had a room at the Bennet’s house? But why?
Before I could ask the question, the air whooshed from my lungs as Cameron scooped me up like a baby and carried me into the room. “What the—”
“Relax, Sunshine, you’re almost dead on your feet.”
I was?
Now that he mentioned it, I did feel pretty tired and drunk.
Definitely drunk.
My fingers curled into Cameron’s polo shirt and I breathed him in. “Hmm.” My stomach coiled tight. He smelled good, too good. Like soap with a hint of something bitter, maybe whisky or tequila. So good that when he began to lie me down on the bed, I didn’t let go of him and Cameron tumbled down on top of me. We landed with a soft thud, our bodies tangled, our faces almost touching.
“Shit, Hailee, I’m sorry…” He pressed his hands into the mattress either side of my head to take some of his weight off me. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.” Reaching for him, I traced his jaw. He was so gorgeous it should have been illegal. The air shifted around us as I leaned up, brushing my lips over his, once… twice… until my mouth was slanted over his and I was kissing him.
I was kissing Cameron Chase.
And it felt good.
So damn good.
Heat exploded in my stomach, rushing out to my nerve endings, making my skin tingle and my body hum. I could kiss him forever. His lips were so soft and warm, and he tasted like everything I craved and never knew I wanted.
“Hailee—” his voice was raw.
“No,” I whispered, peppering tiny kisses over his lips, sucking and nibbling. “No thinking.” It didn’t matter that we hated each other. Nothing mattered in this moment, except his mouth on mine.
Looping my arm around his neck, I pulled Cameron closer, nudging my nose against his. “Fuck,” he breathed, adjusting himself over me so that we were two pieces of a puzzle slotted together. One of his hands slid to my thigh, and I hooked my leg around his hip, rubbing myself against him. Desperate to ease the ache growing deep inside me.
Cameron’s eyes shuttered, his Adam’s apple bobbing against his throat. But then he dipped his head, pressing a kiss to the hollow of my neck, sucking the sensitive skin between his teeth. I cried out, running my hands down his chest to the hem of his t-shirt. I needed to feel him. To touch him. I wanted to paint my fingers over every inch of his smooth skin.
He rocked into me, making us both groan. “Cameron, more…” I gasped. “I need more—” Something was building inside me, a firestorm sweeping through my belly and rushing to my core. My mouth sought his again, kissing him fervently.
But I quickly realized Cameron wasn’t kissing me back. He was as still as a statue, the harshness of his breaths the only sound filling the silence. I pressed my mouth to his again just to be sure he wasn’t kissing me back.
“Cameron.” I eased back to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
“We can’t.” His voice sounded funny, but he wanted this. I knew he did. It was right there in his eyes as they watched me. His hardness pressed into me, teasing me. Tempting me with all the things I wanted and shouldn’t.
I leaned back in kissing him once more, needing him to kiss me back. “Hailee.” He broke away, staring down at me, his expression cold now. “Stop—”
Stop.
I blinked up at him, certain I’d misheard him. Because he couldn’t possibly want to stop, not when it felt so good.
“We have to stop,” he repeated the words, sending my stomach into a freefall.
That wasn’t right. He was supposed to want more. To crave me the way I craved him.
Yet he’d said the word and now it hung between us like a glacier, cold and unforgiving.
I jerked away, flattening myself against the mattress, turning my head to the side to avoid his apologetic gaze. He let out a heavy sigh. “You should get some sleep. I’ll find Flick and let her know you’re up here.”
Eyes screwed shut, tears burning my throat, I waited for him to leave.
I’d kissed Cameron. I’d practically offered myself up to him and he hadn’t wanted me back. Rejection burned through me like acid until I felt nauseous.
About to tell him to go, to leave me alone, I felt the bed dip and he leaned over me, pressing a kiss to my head. “Goodnight, Hailee,” he whispered, and then he was gone.
I grabbed a pillow and buried my face into it, letting myself drown in my mortification until I finally drifted off to sleep.
Sometime later, on the periphery of my dreams, I felt the bed dip beside me. “Cameron?” I mumbled barely awake.
“No, it’s me.”
“Flick?” My eyes searched the darkness, ignoring the giant pit in my stomach.
“Go back to sleep, Hails; it’s late.”
“Are you okay?” She sounded kind of funny.
“I’m fine,” she sniffled, sliding underneath the covers. “Go to sleep.”
“Night, Flick.”
“Night, Hails.”
But as the tug of sleep pulled me under, I was almost certain I heard my best friend crying.
Cameron
After a restless night sleeping on Asher’s couch, I finally dragged myself up and went into the kitchen, where I found him cleaning up the mess.
“Did something happen between you and Felicity?” I came right out with it.
“Happen?” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Like what?”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No, I didn’t sleep with her. Why, did she say something?” He continued bagging up all the empty cups and bottles. Sometimes I wondered which he loved more; the party or the morning after, because I’d never seen a guy clean the way Ash did.