Breaking Hollywood [CAMREN]

Chapter 18

Lauren

I wake to find Gucci lying asleep where Camila was last night.

I glance at the clock to see it's nine thirty. It's not like me to sleep this late.

Sleeping with Camz must have done it. I've never been so comfortable as I was last night. Helps that her bed is the most comfortable bed ever, but it was her. Being with her. In her arms.

And, holy crap, we kissed!

The memory slams into me, and a big goofy grin appears on my mouth.

I bury my face into the pillow, and I get a strong whiff of Camila.

When I woke up last night to the feel of her hand touching my face, I thought I was dreaming. Until I opened my eyes and looked at her.

And then I asked her to kiss me. I can't believe I was so bold!

But then she did, and oh my God...

It was everything and more than I'd thought it would be.

And I've thought a lot about Camila kissing me. Especially since I've been living here with her. Well, I've thought about more than just kissing.

Let's just say, my fingers have been busy in bed since I moved in here.

Camila is an incredible kisser. I've never been kissed so thoroughly and with so much passion as he kissed me.

I've never felt more wanted.

Not even by Tyron.

Tyron is nothing compared to Camila.

They're not even comparable.

Camila is amazing. A jerk at times, but that's part of the charm. I like everything about her, including her assholish ways.

Actually, I more than like her. And I want her so very badly.

I was gutted that she stopped us last night before we could go any further, but I understood completely. The last thing I want to do is cause her foot any more damage than I already have.

I can wait to sleep with her.

If she wants to, that is.

But, if going by the boner she was sporting last night while kissing me, then I'd say she wants to.

Pushing the covers back, I climb out of her bed. Gucci lifts her head.

"Come on, girl. Toilet time."

She jumps off Camila's bed and follows me out into the living room.

Camz's out on the terrace.

My heart jumps at the sight of her, sitting on a chair, smoking a cigarette.

Gucci trots on ahead of me, out onto the terrace.

Camila turns her head at the sound of her. Then, she glances up at me when I walk out onto the terrace. But she barely looks at me before she moves her eyes away and takes another drag of her cigarette.

But what I did see on her face makes my stomach feel hollow.

She regrets kissing me last night.

My eyes move, and I see a glass filled with clear liquid on the table. I'd like to think it's water, but something tells me it's not.

"Morning," I say, my voice sounding rough.

I walk over to the railing and rest my arms against it, looking out at Hollywood.

I hear her glass clink against the glass tabletop as she picks it up, but she doesn't say anything.

Even though I feel a little sick inside, I force myself to turn around and face her.

I notice now that her hair is damp, and she's dressed smarter than she has been for the last couple of weeks. She's been wearing athletic shorts, as they're all she can get on over the boot, but today, she's wearing black cargo shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt.

She must have bathed without my help. And she had to have taken the boot off to get the shorts on and then put it back on. Couldn't have been easy for her to manage alone. Clearly, she didn't want me helping her.

I rest my back against the railing. I see Gucci is sitting by the pool, her head tilted to the side, watching me.

I look back to Camila, who definitely does not want to look at me. "Have you eaten?" I ask her. "I can make breakfast—"

"I'm fine." Another drag of her cigarette. A tap to get the ash in the tray. Another drink of her liquor.

"Okay. Well, I was going to make coffee. Would you like—"

"I said, I'm fine." Her eyes snap up to mine.

Well, at least she's looking at me now, but honestly, I wish she weren't.

Her eyes look hard and cold. A complete contrast to how she was looking at me in the dark of her room last night.

A chill coats my skin even though it's warm. I rub my hands over my arms.

She looks away, drains her glass, and puts out her cigarette. Getting her crutches, she gets to her feet. "I have a few meetings today, so I'll be out for most of the day."

She never said anything yesterday about having meetings today.

A little voice whispers in my head, She wants to get away from you.

"Oh. Right. Do you need me to drive you?"

"No. I arranged for a driver to take me." She starts to head for the door to go back inside.

"What should I do today then?"

She stops moving, the line of his shoulders taut. "Do whatever the fuck you want, Lauren. You don't have to check with me. I'm not your girlfriend."

And there it is.

"But you are my boss." I force my voice to sound stronger than I feel.

The silence that follows is intense and painful.

"Then, as your boss, I'm telling you to take the fucking day off," she bites out.

Then, she's gone, and I'm left standing here.

I go over to the table and pick the glass up.

Vodka.

I grab the ashtray and take that and the glass inside where I wash them out. I feed Gucci.

Then, I stand here, in her apartment, feeling hurt and a little lost, not really sure what to do with myself.