Playing Games

Chapter 10

It had been a few weeks since that night by the river, and Camille found herself thinking more and more about Maurice. They were in a better place now, a more comfortable rhythm, but she still kept her guard up. She wasn't ready to give him everything, not yet. But the pull was there, stronger than ever.

They had been spending more time together—dinner dates, casual movie nights, and even the occasional lunch break where they'd steal moments in the stairwell at work. It wasn't the secretive, sneaky way they used to meet up. This felt more real, more open, but Camille was careful to keep it from becoming too public. She still wasn't ready to let everyone in on what they had going on, especially at work.

One Thursday afternoon, Camille sat at her desk, typing away at an email when a message from Maurice popped up on her phone.

Maurice:

"Cam?"

Camille paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She had a few things to wrap up, but nothing she couldn't push to tomorrow.

Camille:

"Yeah?"

Maurice:

"I miss you bad. I need to see you."

Camille bit her lip, feeling that familiar flutter in her chest. He had a way of saying things that made her want to drop everything and run straight to him. But she played it cool, as usual.

Camille:

"Where do you want me?"

Maurice:

"My place. Come over after work."

Later that evening, Camille stood outside Maurice's apartment, her heart racing just a little. They hadn't been to each other's places in a while, both of them opting for neutral spots like restaurants or parks, places where the pressure wasn't so heavy. But tonight felt different.

She knocked lightly on the door, and within seconds, Maurice opened it, his signature smile already in place. He looked relaxed, wearing a plain white tee and sweats, his usual laid-back vibe that always made her feel at ease.

"Hey," he said, stepping aside to let her in. "Come in pretty."

"Thanks," Camille replied, her eyes taking in the familiar space as she walked inside. It had been a while since she'd been here, but nothing much had changed. The place still had that cozy, lived-in feel, like Maurice was trying to make it a home for him and Lauryn.

"Lauryn's with her mom this weekend," Maurice said, as if reading her mind. "So it's just us tonight."

Camille nodded, feeling her nerves settle a little. "Sounds good."

They made their way to the couch, and for a while, things were casual. They talked about work, about how Maurice was thinking of switching departments, and about Lauryn's latest obsession with gymnastics. It was easy, comfortable, and Camille felt herself relaxing into the evening.

But as the night wore on, that familiar tension started creeping back in. They were sitting close—closer than they had in a while—and Camille could feel Maurice's eyes on her more than once. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it or if he was just waiting for the right moment.

Finally, Maurice shifted, turning to face her fully. "Camille, I've been thinking a lot."

Camille raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch. "About what?"

"About us," Maurice said, his voice low and steady. "About what we're doing here."

Here we go. Camille had felt this conversation coming for a while, but now that it was here, she wasn't sure if she was ready for it.

"I know we've been taking things slow," Maurice continued, his eyes locked on hers. "And I respect that. But I think we're in a good place now, and I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

Camille shifted, trying to gather her thoughts. She knew Maurice was serious, that he wanted more than what they had right now. But the idea of fully committing to him still scared her.

"We are in a good place," Camille said slowly. "But I'm still figuring things out. You know I've been through a lot, Maurice."

"I know," Maurice said, his voice soft. "And I'm not trying to rush you. But I don't want you to feel like we're just... drifting. I want to make this official, Camille."

Camille's heart skipped a beat. Official. The word hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning.

"You're asking me to be your girlfriend?" she asked, her tone half-teasing, half-serious.

Maurice smiled, but there was nothing playful in his eyes. "Yeah, I am. I want you to know that I'm serious about this, about us. I'm not here to waste your time, and I don't want you to think I'm playing games."

Camille stared at him for a long moment, her mind racing. This was it—the moment they had been circling around for weeks. Maurice was laying it all out there, asking her to take the leap with him.

And as much as she wanted to keep her walls up, to protect herself from the possibility of getting hurt again, she knew deep down that she wanted this too. She wanted him.

But trust wasn't easy, and she wasn't ready to throw caution to the wind just yet.

"I want this too," Camille said quietly. "But you have to understand—I'm still scared. I'm still working through everything that happened before."

"I know," Maurice said, reaching out to take her hand. "And I'm not asking you to forget the past. I just want us to move forward. Together."

Camille looked down at their hands, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice. This wasn't like before. This wasn't just a fling or a game. This was real, and Maurice was putting it all on the line.

"Okay," Camille said softly, meeting his eyes. "I'll be your girl."

Maurice's smile widened, and for a moment, the tension between them melted away. He leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against her lips, and Camille felt herself relax into the moment. This was what she had been waiting for—what they had both been waiting for.

But as much as she wanted to let herself fall completely, there was still that voice in the back of her mind, reminding her to stay cautious. To take things one step at a time.

"I'm not gonna rush you," Maurice said, his forehead resting against hers. "We'll take it slow. But I'm all in, Camille. I'm here."

Camille nodded, her fingers tightening around his. "I'm here too."

The next few days flew by, and things between Camille and Maurice felt... different. In a good way. They were still taking things slow, but there was a new level of security between them, like they were finally on the same page.

But of course, with Maurice, things were never simple.

One evening, Camille was at home, laying in bed, when a text popped up from Maurice.

Maurice:

"We should really be going to sleep in the same bed tonight"

Camille smiled, typing back quickly.

Camille:

"Mm. I agree. Sleepover?"

She set her phone down, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. Things were good, better than they had been in a long time. But just as she was about to settle back into her evening, her phone buzzed again.

But this time, it wasn't Maurice.

It was a number she didn't recognize.

Unknown:

"I think we need to talk about Maurice."

Camille stared at the message, her stomach twisting into knots. What now?