Kiss Cam
Anie Michaels
To all my friends in Anie’s Awesome Teamsters who loved Camden and Riley so much they demanded more.
Kiss Cam
© Copyright Anie Michaels 2017
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Edited by Hot Tree Editing.
Cover design © Pink Ink Designs
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Riley
**OMG, you have to hurry back. I think the guy sitting next to me is getting dumped by his girlfriend. AWKWARD!**
I hit Send on my text message and then subtly looked to my right to make sure the man sitting next to me wasn’t reading my screen over my shoulder. Luckily—for me, not for him—he was too busy being dumped to notice I was texting about him.
“I’m just sick and tired of always coming in third on your list of priorities.” His girlfriend was obviously so over their relationship and honestly, just by looking at them, I couldn’t really see why they were together at all. They couldn’t have been more opposite if they’d tried.
He looked like he belonged in Portland—slight scruff of a beard, as if he’d skipped shaving a few days, longish brown hair, baseball-style shirt with sleeves pushed up to his elbows, jeans that looked just tight enough to hug his thighs (which, by the way, were like eye magnets since I hadn’t stopped staring at them since he sat down next to me), and shoes that looked like they’d been worn in the rain. He was attractive, but he wasn’t start-a-fight-in-the-middle-of-a-Renegades-basketball-game attractive.
I came to watch the game. To see the players. To drink the beer. And these people were slowly but surely ruining my night. Well, her more than him.
She was high maintenance. No doubt about it. Her hair was styled. Not just fixed or done, but styled. She’d paid someone to do her hair for the game. Her nails were fake, so were her lashes, and I was sure not all that hair was hers either. Her shoes were completely unrealistic for the stadium, with heels taller than my beer glass. Her halter top was sequined, her pants too tight.
I tried not to appear like I was eavesdropping on their breakup, but I totally was. The Renegades were kicking ass and up by fifteen points, so I could spare a little attention to the drama in the seat next to me.
“We’ve been dating for, like, two weeks. How fast were you expecting to climb ranks, Sophia? I’m not ditching my grandma’s hundredth birthday party to go to your cousin’s husband’s nephew’s bar mitzvah.”
**Seriously, you have to hurry! I think she’s going to throw her drink in his face!**
“Is this how it’s always going to be? If we get married, is your family always going to come before me?”
“Married? Sophia, this is our third date. We’re not getting married.”
My eyebrows spiked toward the ceiling and I couldn’t help but turn to watch her head explode.
“If you don’t see us getting married, then why are we even doing this?”
His head dropped into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. “I have no idea.”
I felt bad for the guy. I almost wanted to pat him on the back and give him some encouraging words. We’re not all batshit crazy, guy with amazing hair and freakishly sexy thighs. Trust me, there’re normal girls out there.
“I can’t be with someone who doesn’t put me first, Camden.”
I heard him take in a deep breath, and then watched out of the corner of my eye as he lifted his head and turned to her. “You’re right, Sophia. You deserve so much better than I can offer. I think it’s best if you leave me behind and move on, try to find someone worthy of all your beauty and grace.”
Sophia was silent for a moment and I desperately wanted to fully turn my head and eat my cotton candy like I was in a movie theater.
“You’re going to regret pushing me away. I’m the best woman you’ll ever manage to get, and you’re just going to let me walk away.” Her head was so high, she was literally looking down her surgically altered, slim little nose at him. She seriously sounded like she was about to splash her Diet Coke all over him. If she ruined my pleather jacket, I was going to freak. “Have fun watching your boring little baseball game.”
Luckily, she decided to take her beverage with her, toddled down the aisle in her five-inch stilettos, and slowly climbed the stairs to the exit. Her boyfriend, er, ex-boyfriend, watched her go for a few seconds, but then let out a huge sigh and then turned back to face the court. He must have noticed my curious stare because he caught my eye. All I could offer was a sheepish smile. The very corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided smile, but then he looked toward the court once more.
“Dodged a bullet with that one,” I said quietly, mostly to myself, but his head turned to face me again.
“You think so?” His smile was a little fuller, but his question was sarcastic. “She was a setup. Someone my dad wanted me to date. Thought it would be good for my image.”
“You have an image?” My eyes roamed over him; he was still good-looking, but not someone I would peg as worried about his outward appearance. Then he thrust his hand out toward me.
“Camden Rogers. Son of Andrew Rogers.”
My eyes couldn’t have grown any wider. “You’re the mayor’s son?”
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s impolite to refuse to shake someone’s hand?” His eyes darted down to his hand which was, in fact, still held out toward me and still very empty. I placed my hand in his, still a little shocked to be sitting next to a celebrity. Well, not really a celebrity. A political celebrity. The Prince William of Portland royalty. He called me on my gaping mouth, which was still silent. “And your na
me is?”
“I’m Riley. And you’re the mayor’s son.”
He laughed as he released my hand. “He’s my stepdad, but yeah.”
“Well, your girlfriend is a lot dumber than I was giving her credit for.” I hitched my thumb over my shoulder.
“Ex-girlfriend,” he corrected.
“Yeah, good for you.” I pumped a fist in the air for good measure. “She doesn’t even know the difference between baseball and basketball.” That alone seemed blasphemous at a Renegades Basketball game.
He gave me another smile, but then Hadley dropped in the seat next to me, handing me the beer she’d gotten for me when halftime started.
“Did I miss the drink tossing?” Hadley whispered this to me, but not quietly enough that he didn’t hear her.
“I was sure she was gonna toss her drink. But she went instead, for the ‘You’ll never find a girl like me’ speech.” I fluttered my eyelashes and pressed a dramatic hand to my chest.
“How’d she know about the breakup?” He leaned forward, his gaze darting between Hadley and me.
“Camden, this is my best friend, Hadley. I was live texting her your breakup.”
“Nice to meet you,” Hadley said, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
I couldn’t hold in my laughter. “It was her loss.” I turned to look at him, trying to include him in my joke, but his eyes were on me, and now he was really smiling, all the way up to his eyes. My laughter died, but his eyes didn’t leave mine, neither did the gorgeous smile.
“So, do you come to these games often?” Hadley’s question broke us out of our gaze-lock.
“Uh, yeah,” he answered, running a hand over his chin. “I’ve got season tickets.”
“Big Renegades fan?” Hadley asked, her voice polite and curious.
“Yeah, I’ve grown up here so it’s hard not to be. Plus, these last couple years they’ve been doing incredible. Do you guys come to a lot of games?” He asked us both, but the question was directed at me.
“I usually watch the game at a bar down the street from my apartment, but I got a promotion last week, and this was kind of a splurge.”
“Ah, congrats. What do you do?”
“I’m an event planner.”
“Don’t let her fool you, she plans parties for a living. And she’s fantastic at it,” Hadley threw in for good measure.
“You know, I met you five minutes ago and I can already tell you give good party.” His smile was still sparkling and I could feel myself blush at his goofy compliment.
“What do you do?” I asked.
“Ah, it’s pretty boring. I’m a lawyer.” He could have told me he was a wizard and I wouldn’t have been more surprised than I was to learn he was a lawyer. And I was not an actor, so my shock was evident all over my face. He laughed and continued. “It was sort of a familial expectation for me to go into law. But I’m not, like, a stuffy lawyer. I’m in entertainment law, actually.”
“I don’t care how you dress up a pony, it’s still a pony, and you don’t look like you give good lawyer. No offense.”
“None taken,” he said, still laughing. “The day someone tells me I look like a lawyer is the day I have my first life crisis.”
My eyes fell to the court where a man who didn’t look at all familiar with a basketball was trying to make a half-court shot to win five thousand dollars. Halftime wasn’t my favorite, but only because I liked to watch the game. At least if I was watching the game on TV I could listen to commentary and stats. But in person halftime was filled with lame competitions and the RenegadesDancers shaking their asses. I’d have gladly gone to get our beers, but Hadley insisted since, technically, this was my celebration.
“Riley loves basketball, but hasn’t been able to find a guy who likes it as much as she does, thus creating a divide between her and all her ex-boyfriends.”
I turned to look at her with wide what-the-hell-are-you-doing eyes. She just smiled at me.
“Their loss,” he said, smiling brilliantly.
I just lifted my cold beer to my lips. That was my only requirement for watching basketball games. Widmer Hefeweizen had to be on tap—my favorite beer. However, being there in person and getting to watch Damian Lillard and CJ McCollum in action was a perk too. I cheers’d myself for getting my promotion and took another drink.
“Ugh,” I groaned. My least-favorite halftime event was starting: the Kiss Cam. Sporting events and kissing didn’t go together at all in my opinion, so I never understood why the Kiss Cam had become popular. Watching people kiss was uncomfortable for everyone. A lot of the time it was an awkward kiss, or a gross kiss, or a kiss that was more suited for a soft-core porn flick.
“Riley’s favorite,” Hadley chimed in.
“Not a fan of kissing?” Camden asked, his voice a little heavier and thicker than my pulse would have preferred. His words were punctuated by the image of a fiftysomething couple giving each other a polite peck on the lips as the lights around the Jumbotron flashed in time with the music playing.
“I don’t mind kissing in general, I just don’t understand how it correlates with basketball.” I turned to him, trying to make my point.
“Really? You don’t see the correlation?”
I gave him a skeptical look. “There is no correlation.”
“Basketball is just like sex,” he said, matter-of-factly. I heard Hadley choke on her beer next to me, but couldn’t pull away from Camden’s eyes to check on her. He leaned closer to me, our faces just inches apart. “Dribbling the ball, passing it back and forth between players, it’s exactly like sex. You get all excited, just teasing the basket, then finally, when the ball finally goes in, it’s the climax.”
I swallowed and never had my throat been so dry, even though I’d been drinking my beer. “And where does the kissing fit into all that?” My voice was just an echo of its former self; I was all raspy whispers.
“It’s foreplay, Riley.”
“Oh, shit,” Hadley said from next to me, and I heard a buzz begin in the crowd around us. “Um, guys, you’re on the Kiss Cam.”
“What?” I looked toward the giant television screen floating above the basketball court and, sure enough, Camden and I were two giant heads with hearts floating around our faces.
“Looks like they want you to lay one on me,” he said, not sounding disturbed at all by what was happening. I whipped my head back to face him, panic coursing through me.
“We can’t kiss. I don’t even know you,” I exclaimed, the panic now tingling in my fingers.
“Kiss her!” someone yelled from a few rows behind us.
“Get it, girl!” another enthusiastic person screamed from the seats surrounding us.
Camden wasn’t bothered by any of it at all. He just sat there, smiling at me, as if he were waiting for me to just agree to being kissed by a complete stranger.
“Riley, just kiss him and get it over with,” Hadley said with a sigh. We would have to discuss her lack of sisterly solidarity later.
“Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her.” The chant started slowly with the people in our section, but in just a few seconds, the entire arena was demanding we kiss. I was blushing so hard I was sure my face would melt off at any moment. I was looking around at all the traitorous spectators surrounding me, silently willing them to shut the fuck up, when I felt a warm hand on the side of my neck.
“Riley,” he said gently, making it impossible to not look back at him. “They’re not going to stop until we give them what they want. I’m going to kiss you, okay?” His hand was slowly moving up my neck to cup my face, but his eyes were searching mine, looking for an answer to his question.
I nodded slightly, then watched as he closed the distance between us. My eyes closed out of habit, but also because I didn’t want to watch the train wreck that would be our kiss on the Jumbotron.
I’m not sure what I expected, but I’d never, ever, been kissed like that before.
His lips presse
d softly against mine, but captured my bottom one. He held my lip ransom between his own for a moment, and I thought he’d pull away, that the kiss would be over, but he didn’t. It wasn’t. Instead, he pulled back just a fraction, only to dive back in again, this time with more enthusiasm than I was prepared for. And for the record, he wasn’t just kissing me with his lips; his hand was cupping my face, his other arm slipping around my back, and dammit if his head wasn’t tilting at just the right angle to kiss the hell out of me.
When I felt the wetness of his tongue teasing, I had two options—pull away and end the kiss, or get lost in it, in him. I opened for him, whimpering as I did, and I immediately wondered how they were going to scrape me off the floor of that arena because it. Was. Over.
His tongue swept in, tangled with mine, and then he went back to paying special attention to my bottom lip, and then continued on and on in an endless cycle of the sexiest kiss I’d ever had.
The entire arena was hollering at us, whistling loudly, yelling obscene things in our direction, and of course the camera operators couldn’t pull away—we were practically fucking with our mouths for everyone to see.
But I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered in that moment was his mouth against mine and the way his hands were gripping me like he owned me, as if he wanted to take a piece of me and keep it forever. If we’d been alone, in private, my hands would have automatically tried to remove his shirt, I would have been in his lap, and it didn’t matter one bit that I’d just met him or that he’d literally just broken up with his girlfriend not fifteen minutes before. All that mattered was his mouth and the way he was using it on me.
But it did end eventually, to the dismay of everyone in the arena. He pulled away, but just his mouth; his hands remained on me and mine on him. We were just panting, staring at one another, and the entire crowd started with a round of thunderous applause. But I might as well have been deaf, because all I could see and feel was him.
“You have an extraordinary mouth,” he whispered, his eyes darting down to my lips.
Kiss Cam (With A Kiss Book 1) Page 1