Say When

Say When (11)

Two weeks later, I was certain that Max was trying his damnedest to screw up my life. We spoke only when we had to; he avoided me and if Oliver forced conversation, the tension around us forced everyone into awkward silence. Max spoke frequently of Vintage and how ready he was to get "some excitement around the tour", talking loud enough that I couldn't ignore it and faking too many smiles.

I spent most of my time on the phone with my friends back home, reconnecting with the Captain almost every night. He was the only one I'd told what had happened, and he told me his best plan was to act like it didn't faze me in the slightest, so that's what I did. I laughed with Lydia and flirted with Oliver, all the while wracked with the most irritating thoughts questioning what if.

Though Oliver knew our teasing flirtation was harmless, it frustrated me to hell and back that I couldn't make the feelings I had for Max show up when I looked at Oliver. There was just nothing there, and since Mom demanded Oliver try a new look that was downright edible, I regretted it more and more every day.

I even joined Justin in the gym occasionally. Max usually stayed in his corner, glaring at his reflection as he lifted weights, and I usually lounged on one of the treadmills and ate breakfast as I laughed at the stupid faces Justin and Jayden made when they ran. Oliver joined us occasionally, working out sometimes and supplying food for me at others.

Today was one of the mornings that I had refused to get out of bed to go to the gym with the boys, and sat in a pair of black satin pyjamas on the kitchen counter. Lydia was cooking breakfast while Cami, one of the dancers I'd previously favored hanging out with Gold Rush over, debated which dress she would wear on a date with some guy she'd met at a bar. From what I knew of her taste in men, he'd turn out to be another sleaze, but Cami didn't mind. She didn't like clean cut.

Cami's parents had groomed her to be a doctor from the moment she was born, and when she turned seventeen, she turned her back on her family and left for New York City. She'd waited tables and worked as a bartender for six years, auditioning for different jobs involving dance when she had the time. When she'd caught her big break working for Lydia on her first tour, Cami had packed up again and hadn't looked back. She lived life full-tilt, not hesitating or slowing down for anyone, and her sometimes reckless personality was wild and easy to love.

"I'm just saying," Lydia said from the stove, scrambling eggs with one hand and flipping bacon with the other, "the red one makes your boobs look fantastic, but the black one screams mysterious sex kitten."

Cami debated that for a moment, the look on her face growing more annoyed the longer she peered down at her phone screen. She was swapping between two pictures, frowning at each dress.

"Zoe, what do you think?" She asked, looking up at me. The vibrant green of her irises overshadowed the batting of her dark lashes, and her lips were pursed in a pout that made them seem even fuller than they already were. Her skin was flawless, still bronzed from summer, her caramel hair highlighted with natural blonde streaks and lightened at the tips. With her big eyes, dark eyelashes, and naturally rosy cheeks, Cami's resting face was naturally mischievous and she always looked like she knew something that you didn't. Adding in her dancer's body, a flat stomach and an ass I would kill for, Cami was stunning on every level and she knew it, flaunting it whenever she got the chance.

I took her phone, admiring her manicure for a moment before studying the pictures. I pulled my mouth to the side, then pushed it back across to her. "Are you trying to make a statement or get laid?"

She frowned, debating it for a moment. "I haven't decided yet."

Lydia and I both laughed. Cami grinned, rolling her eyes. "Shut up, I'm joking! I actually like this guy!"