He sat up, bringing me with him. "Did you get your paper written?"
"I did," I said, lifting my chin. "And my statistics homework finished."
"Oh!" Trenton said, wrapping his arms around me. "She's beautiful and smart!"
"Don't sound so surprised, jerk face!" I said, feigning insult.
Trenton flipped his red ball cap backward, and I giggled as he planted tiny kisses on my neck. When we realized--at the same time--that we were alone and would be all night, my laughter faded.
Trenton leaned in, staring at my lips for a moment, and then pressed his mouth against mine. The way he kissed me was different from before. It was slow, full of meaning. He even held me in a way that made it feel like it was the first time. I was suddenly nervous, and didn't know why.
His hips moved against mine in such a small movement, I wondered if I'd imagined it. He kissed me again, this time more firmly, and his breath faltered. "God, I want you so fucking bad."
I ran my fingers down his T-shirt, took the bottom hem in both of my fists, and then pulled. In one fluid movement, Trenton's shirt was off, and his warm, bare skin was against me. As his tongue found its way to mine, I ran my fingers down his smooth skin, this time settling on the small of his back.
Trenton anchored himself with his elbows, keeping his full weight from bearing down on me, but he still kept the bulge under the fly of his jeans pressed against the tender part just beneath my pelvic bone. His movements were restrained, but I could tell he wanted to get rid of the fabric between us just as much as I did. I wrapped my legs around him, interlocking my ankles behind his ass. He hummed, and then whispered against my mouth. "This isn't the way I wanted to do this." He kissed me again. "I wanted to take you to dinner first."
"Your girlfriend's a bartender who works on all the good date nights. We'll make an exception," I said.
Trenton immediately pulled away from me, searching my face. "Girlfriend?"
I covered my mouth with one hand, feeling my entire face catch fire.
"Girlfriend?" Trenton asked again, this time sounding more like a question and less like a what the fuck moment.
I closed my eyes, and my hand left my mouth to touch my forehead, and then my fingers slid back to grip my hair. "I don't know why I said that. It just came out."
Trenton's expression changed from confused to a surprised, appreciative smile. "I'm good with it if you are."
The corners of my mouth turned up. "That's sort of way better than dinner."
His eyes scanned my face. "Camille Camlin is mine. That's just crazy."
"Not really. It's been a long time coming."
He shook his head slowly. "You have no idea." He beamed. "My girl's fuckin' hot!" His mouth slammed into mine, and then he yanked my shirt over my head, exposing my red bra. He reached around my back, and with one hand pinched the clasps. They sprang loose. He slid the straps off my shoulders and down my arms, and then left a trail of warm kisses down my neck and chest. Gently but with purpose, Trenton cupped my breast, and then took it into his mouth, sucking and licking and kissing until I was so turned on, I squeezed his hips between my thighs.
I let my head fall back against the arm of the love seat as he continued to lick and kiss his way down my belly, and with both hands, he unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, revealing my black and red lace panties. He shook his head and looked up at me. "If I'd known you were wearing stuff like this, I wouldn't have been able to wait so long."
"So get on with it." I smiled.
After a few frustrating attempts to maneuver on the love seat, Trenton sighed. "Fuck this," he said, sitting up, and bringing me with him. With my legs still wrapped around his midsection, he carried me toward the bedroom.
I could hear muffled voices right outside the door, and then it blew open, smacking against the wall.
Raegan's cheeks were streaked with mascara, and she had on the most beautiful pink cocktail dress I'd ever seen.
"You don't get it!" she yelled. "You can't bring me to a date party and then leave me alone all night so you can drink with your frat brothers at the keg!"
Brazil slammed the door shut. "You could have been over there with me, but you were hell-bent on pouting all damn night!"
Trenton froze, his back to Raegan and Brazil. I was glad, because his head was obscuring their view of my chest.
Raegan and Brazil stared at us for a few seconds, and then Raegan began to cry and ran to her room. Brazil followed her down the hall, but patted Trenton on his bare shoulder first.
Trenton sighed, lowering me to my feet. He reached over the love seat to get my shirt while I put on my bra. Raegan and Brazil were still yelling while we both put on our shirts. I didn't want this drama to be the backdrop to our first time together, and I could tell that Trenton didn't, either.
"Sorry," I said.
Trenton chuckled. "Baby, every second of what just happened was a good time. You have nothing to apologize for."
Raegan's bedroom door slammed, and as Raegan yelled, "Where are you going?" Brazil was stomping around the corner. She ran around him and stood between him and the door. "You're not leaving!"
"I'm not listening to you bitch at me all night!"
"If you would just listen! Why don't you hear what I'm trying to tell you? We can make this work if we just--"
"You don't want me to listen! You want me to obey! There were other people at that party besides you, Ray! When will you get it through your head that you don't fucking own me?"
"That's not what I want, I--"
"Move away from the door!" he yelled.
I frowned. "Brazil, don't yell at her like that. You guys have been drinking--"
Brazil flipped around, angrier than I'd ever seen him. "I don't need you telling me what to do either, Cami!"
Trenton took a step forward, and I put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm not telling you what to do," I said.
Brazil pointed all four fingers and a thumb at Raegan. "She's fucking yelling at me. That's okay, I guess? You women are all the fucking same! We're always the bad guys!"
"No one said you were the bad guy, Jason, just calm down," I said.
"I did! He's the fucking bad guy!" Raegan snapped.
"Ray--" I warned.
"Oh, I'm the bad guy?" Brazil said, touching his chest with both hands. "I'm not the one who's half naked with Trenton over here, when she was in your front yard kissing her ex last night!"
Raegan gasped, and I froze. Brazil seemed to be just as surprised that he had said it as the rest of us.
Trenton shifted nervously, and then he narrowed his eyes at Brazil. "That's not fuckin' funny, dude."
Brazil blanched. His anger had vanished, replaced with regret.
Trenton looked to me. "He's full of shit, right?"
"Christ, Cami, I'm sorry," Brazil said. "I feel like such a prick right now."
Raegan pushed him. "That's because you are a prick!" She moved to the side. "My bad! Get the fuck out!"
Trenton didn't take his eyes off of me. Raegan slammed the door, and then approached Trenton and me. Her anger was gone, but her bloodshot eyes and smeared mascara made her look like a psychotic prom queen.
"I heard you pull up, but you didn't come in. So I looked out the window, and saw . . . what I saw. I mentioned it to Brazil," she admitted, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry."
Trenton laughed once, his face screwing into disgust. "Damn, Raegan. You're sorry I found out? That's just great."
Raegan tilted her head, determined to set things right. "Trent, what I saw was T.J. begging for Cami back. But she turned him down. So he . . . he kissed her good-bye. It wasn't even a kiss kiss," she said, shrugging as she shook her head. "It was kind of on her cheek."
"I got this, Ray. I don't need your help," I said.
She touched my shoulder. Her face was blotchy, and her mascara was smeared all around her eyes and down her cheeks. She looked pitiful. "I'm so sorry. I'm . . ."
I glared at her, and her shoulde
rs fell. She nodded, and then walked to her room.
Trenton was looking at me from the corner of his eyes, clearly trying to rein in his temper.
"Did you hear her?" I asked.
He turned his hat forward, and pulled it low over his eyes. "Yeah." He was trembling.
"I wasn't kissing my ex in Raegan's yard. That's not what it was, so you can just get that image out of your head."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice strained.
I held my hands out to the side. "There was nothing to tell."
"Someone else had their motherfucking lips on you. That's pretty goddamn pertinent, Camille."
I cringed. "Don't call me Camille when you're pissed. You sound like Colin. Or my father."
Trenton's eyes lit with anger. "Don't compare me to them. That's not fair."
I crossed my arms.
"How did he know you were over there? Are you still talking to him?" he asked.
"I don't know how he knew. I asked the same thing. He wouldn't tell me."
He began to pace back and forth, from the front door to the beginning of the hallway. He would readjust his hat, rub the back of his neck, and stop for a moment to put his hands on his hips, his jaws working under the skin, and then he'd start all over again.
"Trenton, stop."
He held up one index finger. I wasn't sure if he was working himself up or trying to stay calm. He stopped, and then took a few steps toward me. "Where does he live?"
I rolled my eyes. "In California, Trent. What are you going to do? Get on a plane?"
"Maybe!" he screamed. His whole body tensed and shook when he yelled. The veins in his neck and forehead rose to the surface.
I didn't flinch, but Trenton stumbled back. The loss of his temper surprised him.
"Feel better?" I asked.
He bent over, grabbing his knees. He took a few breaths, and then nodded. "If he ever touches you again"--he stood up and looked straight into my eyes--"I'll kill him." He grabbed his keys, and then walked out the door, slamming it behind him.
I stood there for a moment in disbelief, and then I walked to my bedroom. Raegan was standing next to my door in the hallway, her eyes begging me for reprieve.
"Not now," I said, walking past her. I shut the door, and fell face-first into my bed.
The door creaked open, followed by silence. I peeked up from my pillow. Raegan was nervously hovering in the doorway, her bottom lip trembling, and she was wringing her hands at her chest. "Please?" she begged.
My mouth tugged to the side, and I lifted the blanket and gestured for her to come to bed with a nod. She rushed over, crawled under the covers, and then curled up into the fetal position next to me. I covered her with the blanket, and then held her while she cried herself to sleep.
*
I woke to a gentle tapping on my door. Raegan walked in with a plate of pancakes slathered in peanut butter and maple syrup. There was a toothpick poking out from the center of the stack with a white napkin flag taped to it that read, SORRY YOUR ROOMIE IS AN ASSHOLE.
Her eyes were heavy, and I could see that she was hurting more than I was over what she'd done. Forgiveness was not easy for someone like me. When it was granted, more often than not, I was just giving someone a second chance to hurt me. Most people weren't worth investing in. That wasn't my childhood talking, it was the hard truth. There were just a few people I trusted, and even fewer who I would trust again, but Raegan topped both lists.
I chuckled as I sat up, and then took the plate from her. "You didn't have to do this."
She held up a finger, left the room for a few seconds, and then returned with a small glass of orange juice. She set it on my nightstand, and then sat with her legs crisscrossed on the floor. Her face was clean, her hair brushed, and she had a fresh set of striped flannel pajamas on.
She waited until I put the first bite in my mouth, and then spoke. "I never thought in a million years that Jason would have said anything, but that's not an excuse. I shouldn't have told him. I know how those guys talk at the frat house, and I knew better than to give them something to gossip about. I'm so sorry. I'm going to follow you to Skin Deep today and explain."
"You've already explained, Ray. I think hashing it out at his job is a bad idea."
"Okay, so I'll wait for him after work."
"You'll be at work by then."
"Damn it! I need to fix this!"
"You can't fix it. I have royally fucked up. Now Trent is talking about going to California and killing T.J."
"Well, T.J. shouldn't have come to my parents' and kissed you. He knows you're with Trent. Whatever you think you're doing wrong, T.J. is right there with you."
I covered my face. "I don't want to hurt him . . . or anyone. I don't want to cause problems."
"You need to let them figure it out."
"That scenario terrifies me."
Raegan reached up and put her hand on mine. "Eat your pancakes. And then get up because Skin Deep opens in forty minutes."
I took a bite and grudgingly chewed, even though it was the best thing I'd eaten in a long time. I barely made a dent in the stack, and then hopped in the shower. I walked into the shop ten minutes late, but it didn't matter, because Hazel and Trenton were late, too. Calvin was there because the front door was unlocked, the computer was turned on, as well as the lights, but he didn't even bother to greet me.
Ten minutes later, Hazel came through the door, wearing layers of sweaters and wrapped in a thick, hot-pink scarf with black polka dots. She wore her black-rimmed glasses and black jeggings with boots. "I am over winter!" she said, plodding to her room.
Ten minutes after that, Trenton arrived. He wore his staple puffy blue coat, jeans, and boots, but he had added a slouchy gray beanie and didn't remove his sunglasses as he trekked to his room.
I lifted my eyebrows. "Good morning," I said to myself.
Ten minutes after that, the door opened again and chimed as a tall, lean man walked in. He wore large, black gauges in his ears, and tattoos covered every inch of skin I could see from his jawline down. He had long, stringy hair, blond and fried at the tips, and the rest was light brown. It was probably less than thirty degrees outside, and he was in a T-shirt and cargo shorts.
He stopped just inside the door and stared at me with his hazel-green, almond-shaped eyes. "Morning," he said. "No offense, but who the fuck are you?"
"None taken," I said. "I'm Cami. Who the fuck are you?"
"I'm Bishop."
"It's about time you showed up. Calvin's only been asking for you for two months."
He smiled. "Really?" He strolled over to the counter and leaned in on his elbows. "I'm kind of big shit around here. I don't know if you watch the tat shows or not, but I was featured in an episode last year and now I travel around a lot, doing gigs wherever. It's like vacationing for a living. It gets lonely, though . . ."
Trenton walked to the counter, grabbed a magazine, and began flipping through it, still wearing his sunglasses. "She's taken, shit dick. Go set up your room. Your machine has cobwebs on it."
"I've missed you, too," Bishop said, leaving us alone. He walked to what I assumed was his room at the opposite end of the hall.
Trenton flipped through a few more pages of the magazine, tossed it onto the counter, and then headed back to his room.
I followed him, crossed my arms, and leaned against the doorjamb. "Oh, hell no. You don't get to run Bishop off and then not even acknowledge me."
He looked up at me, sitting on his stool on the opposite side of the client chair, but I couldn't see his eyes because of his sunglasses.
"I figured you wouldn't want to talk to me," he said, sullen.
"Take off your glasses, Trenton. It's fucking annoying."
Trenton hesitated, and then pulled off his Ray-Ban knockoffs, revealing his bright red eyes.
I stood up straight. "Are you sick?"
"Kind of. Hungover. Drank my weight in Maker's Mark until four this morning."
> "At least you chose a decent bourbon to get stupid with."
Trenton frowned. "So . . . let's have it."
"What?"
"The 'let's be friends' speech."
I crossed my arms again, feeling my face get hot. "I was sure you were tasting the douche water last night . . . now I know you're drinking it."
"Only my girlfriend could make a sick analogy like that and still sound hot."
"Oh, really? Your girlfriend? Because you kind of just asked me to break up with you!"
"I don't think people break up past high school, Cami . . ." he said, holding the heel of his hand to his temple.
"Do you have a headache?" I asked, grabbing an apple out of the bowl of plastic fruit on the counter by the door, and chucking it at his head.
He ducked. "C'mon, Cami! Damn!"
"News flash, Trenton Maddox!" I said, snatching a banana from the bowl. "You will not kill anyone for touching me, unless I don't want to be touched! And even then, I'll be the one committing murder! Got it?" I threw the banana at him, and he crossed his arms, making the fruit ricochet to the floor.
"C'mon, baby, I feel like shit," he groaned.
I picked up an orange. "You will not leave my apartment in a huff, or slam my goddamn door when you leave!" I pitched it straight at his head, and hit my target.
He nodded, blinked, and held out his hands, trying to protect his head. "All right! All right!"
I picked up a bunch of green plastic grapes. "And the first thing you say to me the day after being a royal shit bag will not be an invitation to dump you on your stupid, drunken ass!" I yelled the last three words, enunciating every syllable. I threw the grapes, and he caught them against his stomach. "You will apologize, and then you will be super fucking nice to me for the rest of the day, and buy me doughnuts!"
Trenton looked around the floor at all the fruit, and then he sighed, looking up at me. A tired smile spread across his face. "I fucking love you."
I stared at him for the longest time, surprised and flattered. "I'll be right back. I'm going to get you a cup of water and some aspirin."
"You love me, too!" he called after me, only half kidding.
I stopped, turned on my heels, and then strolled back into his room. I walked over to where he sat, straddled him, and then touched each side of his face. Looking into his russet eyes for the longest time, I smiled. "I love you, too."
He beamed, looking up into my eyes. "Are you fucking serious?"
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