by J. Lynn
Cam cast me a sideway glance. “I have been, almost every day since the end of August.”
On the other side of me, Brit squealed like she was a plush toy that was squeezed. “Since August?”
He nodded.
Brit turned wide eyes on me. “And you haven’t said a word?”
“I’m sort of offended,” Cam commented.
I elbowed him in the side. “No, you’re not. And it’s not like it’s everyone’s business.”
“But we’re your friends,” Jacob sounded so pitiful that I started to feel bad. He turned to Cam. “We totally support her going out with you.”
Okay. I didn’t feel bad for him.
“I like your friends, Avery.” Cam grinned at my arched look.
“Oh, we think she should,” Jacob said. “Like she should do it right now.
“We also told her you weren’t a serial killer,” Brit interjected.
Cam nodded. “That’s a glowing recommendation. Hey, at least he’s not a serial killer. I’m going to put that on my Facebook profile.”
I smirked.
Jacob was positively glowing. “And she compared you to Ted Bundy.”
“I hate you,” I muttered, pushing my hair back from my face. “I didn’t compare you to Ted Bundy. I just said that you never really know a person. Everyone thought Ted Bundy was a pretty cool guy.”
Cam stared at me, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Wow. This just keeps getting better.”
“Sorry?” I said, fighting a grin.
He sighed, turning back to my friends. “She keeps turning me down. Breaks my little heart.”
I sighed. “He’s not being serious.”
“He looks serious,” Brit said, all doe-eyed as she stared at Cam. He’d roped her in, dammit.
Cam made the most pitiful sound known to man, and I rolled my eyes. “And now she thinks I’m the next Ted Bundy.”
“I don’t think you’re the next Ted Bundy.”
“Besides, she has the wrong hair color for Ted Bundy,” Brit said. We all looked at her. “What? Ted Bundy liked girls with brown hair parted down the middle. Avery’s hair is pretty red.”
“Am I the only person who finds it disturbing that you know that?” Jacob asked.
Brit’s lips pursed. “I’m a psych major. I know these kinds of things.”
“Uh-huh,” I murmured.
“Anyway, this is not about me and my vast knowledge of serial killers. I can wow you later about that. This is about you, Avery.” She grinned as I glared at her. “This fine young gentleman, who is not a serial killer, is asking you out. You’re single. You’re young. You should say yes.”
“Oh my God.” I scrubbed my hands over my hot face. “Is it time for all of you to go home, yet?”
Cam’s deep chuckle crawled under my skin. “Go out with me, Avery.”
Stunned, I turned to him. I couldn’t believe he’d actually ask me out in front of them after all of this. “No.”
“See?” Cam grinned at my friends. “Keeps turning me down.”
Jacob shook his head. “You’re an idiot, Avery.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled, grabbing my bag. “I’m going to class.”
“We love you,” Jacob said, smiling.
“Uh-huh.”
Brit giggled. “We do. We just question your decisions.”
Shaking my head, I stood. “Be careful when you guys drive home.”
“We’re always careful,” she said, jumping up and giving me a quick hug. “Remember what I said about coming home with me. If you change your mind, text me before three.”
“Okay.” I hugged her back and gave a little wave at Jacob. Of course, Cam was already on his feet, waiting for me. I arched my brow at him. “Following me?”
“Like a true serial killer,” he replied.
I cringed as we crossed the Den and headed outside. “You know we weren’t being serious, right? And I’m sorry about saying something to them about it. They just started pestering me about you and the next thing I know—”
“It’s okay,” he cut me off, dropping his arm over my shoulders as we stopped by the cluster of trees between the two buildings. “I don’t care.”
Looking up at him, I squinted. “You don’t care?”
He shook his head, and I was sort of floored. What person would want anyone to know that they’d been asking someone out and that person had been repeatedly turning them down? I wouldn’t want that known. And why was Cam still asking me out? It wasn’t like I was the only option for him. With the unruly dark waves, the luminous true blue eyes, the face and body to covet, Cam was hands down gorgeous. I doubted there was a single girl on campus who didn’t think that. But he was more than a swoon-worthy hot guy. Cam was charming, nice, sweet, and funny. He was the kind of guy you wanted to bring home and show off—the kind of guy that was never single for too long and the one you fell head over in hells in love with.
Cam had a lot of options, so why not explore them? Maybe he was. Contrary to what Jacob and Brit thought, I wasn’t around him twenty-four-seven. He hung out with the chick named Steph a lot and I always saw him with other girls around campus. The asking me out bit had to be something he didn’t take seriously.
It couldn’t be, not after almost two months of it.
An uncomfortable knot formed in my stomach. What if he was dating other girls? Hooking up with them? I mean, totally his right, and I didn’t care. Totally didn’t care.
“Uh-oh,” he said.
“What?”
He dropped his arm, but caught a strand of my hair that was blowing across my face and tucked it back. “You’re thinking.”
I tried to ignore how my cheek tingled when his fingers grazed it. Maybe I was coming down with a nerve disorder. “I am.”
“About?” he asked.
“Nothing important.” I smiled as I pushed away thoughts of him with other girls away. So was not going there. “You going home this weekend?”
“I am.” He stepped closer, blocking the glare of the sun. As he spoke, he reached out and gathered up my hair, separating them into two long pigtails on either side of my face. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning, bright and early. I’m not coming back until Sunday night. So no eggs for you this week.”
“Boo.” I squelched the very real, rising disappointment. Eggs on Sunday had become a weekend staple.
“Don’t cry too much about it.” A slight grin appeared as he tickled my face with the edges of my hair. “Are you going to take Brit up on her offer and go home with her?”
I shook my head. “I’m just going to hang out here and get some reading done.”
“Nerd.”
“Jerk.”
The grin spread as he dropped my hair across my shoulders. “You know what?”
“What?”
Cam stepped back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You should go out with me tonight since I’ll be gone all weekend.”
I laughed. “I’m not going out with you.”
“Then hang out with me.”
My smile started to slip. “How’s that any different from going out with you?”
“How is me asking you to hang out with me tonight any different then us hanging out on Sunday?”
Ah, he had a good point. My heart rate kicked up as I watched him. “What do you want to do?”
He shrugged. “Order some food in and watch a movie.”
I shifted from side to side, suddenly very wary. “That sounds like a date.”
“That’s not a date with me, sweetheart.” He laughed. “I’d take you out, like out in public. This is just two friends hanging out, watching a movie and eating food.”
Pressing my lips together, I looked away. Somehow I knew that wasn’t what this was about, but then again, what the hell did I know about guys and having guy friends? I didn’t think twice when Brit or Jacob came over. Why should I treat Cam any different?
Because he was very different to me.
None of that mattered,
because I did want to hang out with him. Cam was fun. So I sighed and said, “Yeah, sure. Come over.”
Cam arched a brow. “Wow. Calm down before you get too excited.”
“I am excited.” I shoved him in the shoulder. “When are you coming over?”
“How’s seven?”
In the pit of my stomach, a nest of butterflies were born and began drinking energy drinks. “Works for me. See you then.”
I made it onto the sidewalk when he stopped me.
“Avery?”
I turned. “Yeah?”
His lips formed a crooked smile. “See you tonight.”
My stomach flopped. This was going to be a long afternoon.
Chapter 11
The nest of butterflies had moved on from energy drinks to smoking crack. I alternated from feeling like I was going to hurl to wanting to run around my apartment like a lunatic.
I was totally overreacting.
According to Cam, this wasn’t a date. Just two friends hanging out. Not a big deal, nothing to get overworked about. It wasn’t like it was the first time we’ve hung out. It was just the first time he asked before coming over.
I took a shower—second of the day.
Cleaned up the apartment and then changed my outfit three times, which was really stupid, because I ended up settling on a pair of yoga pants and a long sleeve shirt. Then I spent an ungodly amount of time coaxing my hair into manageable waves that fell down to the middle of my back. I put some makeup on, scrubbed it off entirely, and then reapplied.
By the time there was a knock on my door, I wanted to slam my head through a wall.
Cam looked like he always did as he stepped into my apartment—absolutely, disgustingly divine. Dressed in worn jeans and a shirt with some long-forgotten band name on it, he had the baseball cap on, pulled low. In one hand was a stack of DVDs and in the other was a bag that smelled like Chinese.
My stomach grumbled. “Oh! What you got in there?”
“The stuff dreams are made of.”
Making grabby fingers, I grinned. “Shrimp stir fry?”
“Yep.” He handed the bag off and I rushed into the kitchen like a starving kid. “I brought a couple of movies over. Had no idea what you’re in the mood to watch.”
Pulling out dishes from the cabinet, I glanced over my shoulder. Cam took his cap off and ran a hand through his hair. The dark waves were an adorable mess. He caught me looking and his lips tipped up on the side. I looked away, flushing. “So, um, what did you bring?”
“Let’s see…. We’ve got a good selection here. In the horror movie genre, I’ve got the last two Resident Evil movies.”
“Two movies?” I placed the plates on the counter.
He chuckled. “You’re not getting rid of me easily.”
“Damn it. What else do you have?”
“In the comedy department, I have the latest Vince Vaughn and Will Ferrell movies. For action, I have a James Bond flick and another where a bunch of shit blows up. And I have The Notebook.”
I whipped around, almost dropping the silverware. “The Notebook? You own The Notebook?”
Cam stared at me blankly. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Oh, nothing is wrong with that. Its just such a… uh, chick flick.”
“I’m confident enough in my masculinity and sexuality that I can say that Ryan Gosling is just dreamy in this movie.”
My jaw hit the floor.
The blank expression slipped away and he started laughing. “I’m joking. I don’t own The Notebook. Never watched it. Didn’t bring any romance movies.”
I rolled my eyes. “You douche.”
Cam laughed again.
“I’ve never watched The Notebook either. Not big on romance flicks,” I admitted, opening the huge cartons.
“Really? I thought every girl has seen that movie and can quote it at a drop of a hat.”
“Nope.”
“Interesting.”
“Not really.” I grabbed a spoon. “How much do you want?”
“Get what you want and I’ll make do with whatever is left over.” He walked up behind me, and I stiffened. Tiny hairs rose on the back of my neck. I shifted so I was standing sideways. He tilted his head to the side. “You are so jumpy.”
“I did not jump.”
“It’s a figure of speech.”
I slopped a heaping of fried rice and shrimp on my plate. “It’s a stupid figure of speech.”
Cam looked like he wished to say something else but changed his mind. “What movie do you want to watch?”
“Let’s go with Resident Evil.”
“A girl after my own heart.” He picked up two DVDs and headed into the living room. My gaze followed him. “Zombies for the win.”
Sighing, I shook my head. I dumped most of the stir fry on his plate and then carried them out to living room, putting them on the coffee table. Cam was over by the TV, messing with the DVD player. I turned the lamp on, giving him light in the shadowy room. “What do you want to drink?”
“Do you have milk?”
“You want that with Chinese food?”
He nodded. “Need my calcium.”
My stomach turned, but I got him a glass of milk and me a can of Pepsi. “That’s kind of gross, you know?” I sat on the couch and tucked my legs under me. “Weird combination.”
He sat beside me with the remote in hand. “Have you ever tried it?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know it’s gross?”
I shrugged and picked up my plate. “I’ll go with my assumption that it is.”
He cast me a sidelong glass. “Before the end of the year, I will have you trying milk and Chinese.”
Not bothering to respond to that, I sat back and dug into my food. Cam got the movie started and settled on the couch, his thigh pressed to my knee. We were about ten minutes in when he said, “Question?”
“Answer.”
“So, it’s the zombie apocalypse, right? Zombies are coming out of the ass, running amuck through buildings and streets. You’ve already almost died three times by this point and have been mutated by the T virus twice, which appears to be painful. Would you take time in your obviously hectic daily routine to do your hair and put makeup on?”
A laugh burst from me at his absurd question. “No, not at all. I’m not even sure I’d take the time to brush my hair. And another thing. Have you noticed how everyone has a blinding white smile? Society collapsed like six years ago. No one is going to the dentist. Yellow their teeth.”
Cam finished off his stir fry. “Or how the one chick’s hair changes color from one movie to the next.”
“Yes, because in a zombie apocalypse, there’s a lot of down time to get you hair done.”
He chuckled. “Still love these movies.”
“Me too,” I admitted. “It’s pretty much the same stuff every movie, but I don’t know. There’s something addictive about watching Alice kick zombie ass. And I hope that when there is a zombie outbreak, I look half as good as she does spin kicking zombies in the face.”
Laughing, he gathered up the now empty plates and took them into the kitchen. He returned with a fresh cup of milk and another can of soda for me.
“Thank you,” I said.
He sat back down and the couch dipped a little, moving me closer. “I live to service you.”
I grinned.
Through most of the first movie, we continued to pick apart all the what-the-fuck moments, laughing at our overly, critical stupid comments. Right when Alice was about to break out some bad-assery on Rain, my phone rang. Thinking it was Brittany or Jacob already bored back home, I leaned forward. Unease raced down my spine as I saw UNKNOWN CALLER on the screen. I quickly sent the call to voicemail.
“Not going to answer?” Cam asked, brows raised.
I shook my head as I covertly turned my phone off and then placed it back on the coffee table, screen down. “I think it’s rude to answer the phone when you have co
mpany.”
“I don’t mind.”
Sitting back, I nibbled on my thumb nail as I focused on the TV. I wasn’t really seeing what was going on, only realizing the film had ended when Cam got up to put the newest one in. I told myself not to think about the phone call or the message I knew was waiting. After the first phone call, I’d deleted all the messages without listening to them. Once more I considered going to the phone store and changing my number, but to me, it seemed like I was letting the asshole win. I still had no idea who it could be. Couldn’t be Blaine, but what did I know? Whoever it was, I treated them like an Internet troll. Do not engage.
Cam’s fingers were suddenly wrapped around my wrist, causing my head to snap up. He was watching me instead of the movie. “What?” I asked, my gaze dropping to his hand. It completely circled my wrist.
“You’ve been biting your nail for the last ten minutes.”
That long? Well, that was kind of gross.
He lowered my arm to the top of my thigh but didn’t let go. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” I replied. “I’m watching the movie.”
“I don’t think you’re really seeing the movie.” Our eyes locked, and my heart skipped a beat. “What’s going on?”
I tugged my arm back and he let go. “Nothing is going on. Watch the movie.”
“Uh-huh,” he murmured, but he dropped the subject.
The comments were fewer this time around and my eyelids started to fall. Each time I blinked, it seemed to take longer to reopen them. Cam shifted beside me, and I sunk further into the couch, closer to him. My side rested against his, and I thought I should scoot away, but he was warm, I was comfortable, and feeling way too lazy to put the effort into it. Besides, he didn’t seem to mind. If so, wouldn’t he have moved away or pushed me off?
I must’ve drifted off during the second movie, because when I opened my eyes, it seemed like the TV had changed positions. I was slow to realize that I had and—oh, sweet baby Jesus—how did I end up here?
Curled up on my side, there was a blanket from the back of the couch spread across me, and my head was in Cam’s lap.
On his thigh to be exact.
My breath caught in my throat as my heart stuttered and my eyes widened. There was a slight weight on my hip, the feel and the shape of a hand—Cam’s hand. Was he asleep? Oh good God, I had no idea how this happened. Had I done this in my sleep and now poor Cam was stuck here because I was sleeping on him?