Breaking Hollywood [CAMREN]

Chapter 4

Camila

Speedy's eyes narrow. "Jerk."

"Perv."

"I am not a perv!"

"You so are." I laugh, sitting back. "You were practically salivating at the thought of knowing that it was real. Just admit it. There's no shame in being a pervert, Speedy."

"I am not a pervert!" she snaps, righteously crossing her arms over her chest.

And, of course, my eyes go to her tits again. I can see her cleavage pushing up through the top of her shirt, practically bursting to get out.

I bet she has great tits. They look amazing under her clothes. I can only imagine they are fan-fucking-tastic in all their naked glory.

"Unlike you," she growls. "Hey, pervert! My eyes are up here."

Busted.

But I take my sweet time in raising my eyes. And, when I meet hers, I give her a cocky smile.

"I know exactly where your eyes are, Speedy. You just have great tits. It's hard not to look at them, especially when you insist on drawing my attention to them." I point at her cleavage.

She looks down and drops her arms. "God, you're crass and disgusting and crude and-and..."

"You at a loss for words, Speedy? That's a first. Hang on, let me get my camera out to capture the moment." I pretend to reach for my phone.

"Ugh! You're a pig!"

"Who's a pig?" Harry asks, walking through the door.

"Me apparently."

"Well, that's nothing new."

Harry's eyes go to Speedy, who has swiveled around to look at her.

Then, a thought dawns on me.

Harry could like her. She's definitely his type. Well, she's everyone's type.

And she could like him.

Sure, he's not as hot as I am, but he is a good-looking bastard.

We have the same dark hair, except Harry wears his a bit shorter than mine. And he's taller by a couple of inches. Our skin has the same olive tone to it. But, apart from that, we look completely different.

I look like our dad, whereas Harry looks like Mom. (Pretend you bish ok)

And Harry is a better person than me. He always has been. He takes care of sick kids, for fuck's sake. I read lines that someone else wrote, and I'm good at fucking. That's about the extent of my abilities.

Harry has so much to offer. And I have literally nothing.

As I watch the interaction between them—which feels like it's lasting forever when in fact it's mere seconds—I feel my chest tighten.

But it's definitely not jealousy because I don't get jealous. Especially not when it comes to Harry.

I'd do anything for him. I always have, and there's nothing that will ever change that. Especially not some hot chick who I want to get balls deep in.

If Harry likes Speedy, then I'll step aside. Easy. I mean, at the end of the day, all I want to do is spend a little more time arguing with her and winding her up before eventually fucking her and then sending her on her way.

I have never been good at sticking with just one girl.

Still, I find myself holding my breath as he walks over to her, watching his face for signs of interest.