Path To Retaliation (Fighter's Den, #2)

Chapter 32 - Avery

God, I'm nervous.

My leg is bouncing uncontrollably and my fingers are tapping away at the table. A warm hand settles over mine and I glance over at Cameron, who's smiling at me in reassurance. My eyes graze over his always floppy hair, the shadow of scruff that covers his sharp jawline, and the ear-piercings that always manage to turn me on, and I can't stop myself from leaning forward and kissing his pouty lips. He chuckles against my mouth and kisses me back, his free hand cradling my face. Thank goodness we're sitting in a booth because it makes making out a whole lot easier. My leg lifts to settle on his and he groans softly before pulling away to look down at me, grey eyes blazing.

"You gonna get me hard in the middle of a restaurant, sweet cheeks?" He teases, fingers slipping beneath the hem of my sun-coloured dress. I shiver and toss him a saucy grin.

"Why not? You've got me wet."

"Jesus." His eyes flash. "You play dirty."

"You make me dirty." I wink and detach myself from him. This time his groan is a miserable one and I have to laugh.

"Don't worry, Hermoso. I'll make it up to you."

"Oh, yeah? And how's that?" He murmurs suggestively.

"An intense game of Just Dance on our Wii." I deadpan.

He throws his head back in laughter and the deep rumble of his voice seems to skitter across the room. All eyes land on my ridiculously gorgeous boyfriend and linger. The women have been ogling him since we walked in the restaurant, their tongues practically lolling from their mouths. Not that I could blame them. Hell, even a few men were checking him out. Cameron, of course, was gracious with the attention. He winked at the women who dared to smile at him and gave respectful nods to the men watching him. I didn't mind at all. My man was seriously sexy and I'd share a bit of that with the world, no problem. He came home to me every night and that's all that mattered. Besides, he lived for attention and knew exactly what to do with it so I let him have his fun.

"I'd kick your ass." He counters, eyes gleaming at me with unfiltered amusement.

"Have you seen my moves, Hermoso? These hips do not lie."

"Especially not when you're shoving them in my face."

I flick his head. "Classy."

"Dirty, remember?" He winks and I roll my eyes but smile. I know he's trying to keep me calm and I love him for it.

It's been nearly two weeks since Hannah committed suicide and we've been taking it step by step since. Although Cameron initially took her death very hard, blaming himself and drowning under his own guilt, he learned to accept things for the way they played out. He's also been working on forgiving his parents. We've visited their gravestones twice now and he talks to them whenever we're there. Sometimes he cries through it, sometimes he smiles. Either way, I let him go at his own pace and know that he'll find his way.

Me? Recent events have been an eye-opener to say the least.

After his world fell apart, all Cameron could talk about was how it's too late to make things right. I realized that I still have the luxury of doing so with my own father being alive. I'm not looking to have a relationship with him and I don't think I ever will but I do want the dust to settle. I'm tired of running. It's just a constant reminder that there are parts of my life that are unfinished business and I don't want that. I want to move and be happy with nothing holding me down. So, after careful consideration and a whole lot of self-convincing, I contacted my father's probation officer to learn his whereabouts and reach out to him. He seemed startled to hear from me when I called but also very eager about meeting up. I was short and to the point with him, deciding that I'd save the talking for later. I didn't want to blurt out nasty things over the phone and there was still so much rage boiling inside of me whenever I spoke to him. But I was trying. I am trying. And that's all we can ever do.