His lips trail feather-light kisses down the side of my neck, sending shivers all over.
"I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me look at you?"
My heart hammers, a wild thing seeking his. "Yes."
So he...
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C A M I L A
The cold air flows in and around me as I stand before the stupid little rental house, the wind biting at my face, my hands shoved deep into my pockets. The walk did nothing to clear my head, but I hoped it would.
I'm running off the fumes of my fourth energy drink of the day. That's exactly four times the daily limit—or so says Kick Inc.
Caffeine buzzes through my veins like an annoying mosquito I can't swat away.
The house looks the same as always—a little sad, a little rundown, like it's trying its best but falling short.
I push open the front door, and the warmth hits me, thick and cloying. The sound of laughter spills out from the living room, and it grates against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
Maddie and Liz are sprawled on the couch, both of them giggling over something ridiculous on TV. The sight of them makes my skin crawl. They look so...blonde. And happy. And carefree.
Like nothing's wrong. Like nothing's ever been wrong.
I drop my bag by the door with a thud, and the sound cuts through their laughter.
The news is on. A reporter chatting to another one about snow and wind and sleet coming for Virginia. As if we care.
Maddie glances over, her smile fading when she sees me. Liz doesn't even bother looking up.
"What?" I ask, my voice comes out like a slap.
Maddie's smile falls into something sad. "Are you...okay?"
Liz finally looks up, her eyes flicking between me and Maddie like she's watching a tennis match. "Whoa, what's your problem, Cammie? "
"My problem?" I echo, feeling the anger rise in my throat like bile. "Who the fuck are you to inquire about my life?"
"Oh, poor Cammie. Always the victim, huh? Always the one who has it the hardest."
I turn to Maddie. She blinks at me with those big blue eyes, opens her mouth, closes it, then casts those eyes to the ground.
That's the moment, I think. The moment in which, if the roles were reversed and it was Maddie having a really fucking bad day and I had a friend over who said something like that, that I would do something.
Ouch. Right in my chest, ouch.
"Oh my god," Liz mutters, grabbing her pink coat from the back of the chair. "Come on, Mads. Let's get out of here before Cammie decides to ruin our movie night. You can come to my place."
Maddie hesitates. Well, her eyes flick between me and Liz, like she's caught in some kind of internal tug-of-war. But that's the problem, isn't it. If it were me, there'd be no tug at all.
