Kiss Cam (With A Kiss Book 1)

by Anie Michaels

  Chapter Five

  Riley

  It had been over a week since the evening I’d spent with Camden. A week and two days, actually. But who was counting? I hadn’t reached out to him, hadn’t e-mailed him, texted, or called. And sometimes it had been necessary to hide my phone from myself in order to keep it that way. He’d sent me one text the morning after I’d run from his condo.

  **I hope you’ll give me a chance to apologize for whatever I did to make you run from me last night. I don’t know what happened, but I do know I’d hate to never see you again. Please, just text me or something this week.**

  That had been the only message I’d gotten from him, and even though I appreciated the fact that he was giving me the space I’d asked for, I couldn’t ignore the large part of me that wished he’d find me again, find a way to make me see him, to force me to explain everything to him. Because maybe he’d be able to convince my brain that it was being ridiculous.

  It was Sunday morning and I’d been lying in bed avoiding the day. When my phone pinged on my nightstand, my heart thumped rapidly, both hoping for and dreading a text from Camden.

  **Hey, you’ve been avoiding me all week. Meet me for brunch, bitch.**

  I smiled at Hadley’s demand, and couldn’t think of a better way to spend my afternoon than brunching with my best friend. I was in desperate need of a mimosa.

  **I’ll meet you at French Toast in an hour.**

  **See you then!**

  French Toast was always terribly busy, especially since they were only open for brunch on the weekends, but Hadley had hooked up with one of the waiters a few times in college, and he always gave us the first spot in line. It was one of the few times in life when her previously wild ways had some long-term benefits. As I sipped my mimosa, I silently toasted Hadley’s choice in sexual partners during college.

  “So,” she said before she popped a piece of her brioche French toast in her mouth, “why’ve you been so quiet this week?”

  I shrugged. “Just trying to stay on top of work. I can’t disappoint everyone now that I’ve got this promotion.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, nodding and chewing. “Great, thanks for the bullshit answer, now tell me the truth.”

  I laughed, always appreciative of the way Hadley never minced words. “That is the truth.”

  “That’s half the truth, and you know it. You can’t fool me. You went on that date with Camden on Friday and then you went into communication blackout. I was this close to sending up smoke signals.” She held her thumb and forefinger up. I considered myself lucky she didn’t end the gesture with the middle one. I decided to give in to her because, honestly, I knew that’s what would happen when I agreed to meet her. I knew she’d ask and I’d tell. That’s how our relationship worked.

  I let out a large sigh, placing my napkin on the table and leaning back in my chair. “The date was perfect. He was funny, smart, polite, and he wasn’t doing that stupid thing guys do where they try to seem uninterested. I could tell he was excited to see me and that made me feel great,” I said, my mind wandering back to how wanted Camden made me feel. “But I realized early on it wouldn’t ever work with us. There was too much about us that was different.”

  “Mmm hmmm, like what?” she asked before lifting her champagne flute to her mouth, sipping like she was at a tea party and not a brunch on her third drink, pinky high, right up there with her nose, making me smile.

  “You should have seen his car, Hadley. He called it the Batmobile and he wasn’t joking. It probably cost more than my undergrad degree.”

  “And?”

  “And he lives in a condo on the river in a sky rise.”

  She blinked at me, waiting for me to continue.

  “He’s the mayor’s son, he’s a lawyer, he’s smart and funny and sexy and perfect, and it just wouldn’t work.”

  Hadley finished her mimosa, used her napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth, and she cleared her throat. Then she narrowed her gaze at me. “There are a few things about your statements that bother me. Let’s go over them, shall we?” She didn’t wait for me to agree before she plowed forward with her argument. “You’re sexy and funny and smart and perfect, so you can’t base your decision to not see him anymore on the fact that you’re too different because that, my friend, is a load of bullshit. I imagine the difference you’re alluding to is the fact that he has money and you don’t. So, I ask you this, did he ever make you feel like your lack of money was a problem?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Of course he didn’t, because one of the very first things you said about him today was that he wanted you, Riley.”

  “Yeah, wanted me, but being physically attracted to someone doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Come on, Riley. Give yourself a little more credit than that. I saw you guys at that game. Sure, he thought you were gorgeous, because you are, but it was more than that. You guys clicked.”

  “We kissed,” I corrected.

  “Yeah,” she agreed with a little more enthusiasm than I expected, “and how’d that go?”

  My mind wandered back to that first kiss in the arena. The one that started out of obligation and pressure from the crowd, but grew from heat and need. I shook the memory from my head. “A kiss doesn’t automatically mean we have to be together.”

  “Well, I think you’re being ridiculous.”

  “I’ve never been with anyone like him before, Had. I don’t go to fancy parties with socialites, I plan those parties. He’s upper-class, and I’m just….”

  “Classy,” she supplied, her voice softer than it had been.

  I shook my head. “I’m fun, and I’m sassy, and I’m clever, but I wouldn’t fit into his world.”

  She sighed and fell back into her chair. “Well, best friend, I think you’re making a mistake, but I’ll stop harassing you about it. But, I have a feeling, if you gave him a chance, he’d make you his whole world.”

  I didn’t respond, mostly because a part of me was pretty sure she was right. And that was terrifying.

  When our food had been eaten and all the mimosas had been drunk, Hadley left me with a knowing look that told me to reach out to Camden. I wasn’t sure, yet, what my next move was, but I knew I wasn’t ready to go back home and mope. So I took an Uber to my favorite bookstore and wandered the aisles. Sunday was a busy day in Portland proper, so I liked to hang out on the outskirts. There was still plenty to do on the east side of the city, and far less people.

  I found a little corner in the bookstore with an armchair next to a window, took a seat, and read half a book. It was the most relaxed I’d been all week. The three mimosas had helped, and so had the reading therapy, but after I’d bought a month’s worth of books and a coffee to go, I still didn’t know what I was going to do about Camden.

  I thought about it all the way to my apartment but was still confused as I climbed the stairs over the thrift store that was already closed for the evening. I pulled my keys out of my purse but stopped halfway to the top when I heard his voice.

  “Your stairs aren’t very comfortable.” He stood slowly, grimacing as he did, one hand rubbing his ass and the other gripping a beautiful bouquet of peonies. “I’ve been sitting here for hours waiting for you to get home. Next time I decide to stake out your apartment, I’m bringing a folding chair or something.”

  “What are you….” I turned around and looked down the narrow stairwell, for a moment confused about where I was. “How did you….”

  “Hadley found me on Facebook. Sent me a message. Told me your address. It didn’t take much convincing either. She’s either a really great friend or a terrible one.”

  I let out an annoyed sigh. “Ugh, both.”

  “Well, I think she’s great,” he said with a nervous smile, still standing right in front of my door. I was suddenly very aware of the way I probably looked. I’d rolled out of bed, gone to brunch, then sat in a bookstore all day. Inwardly I was chastising myself for not being prepared for a mutiny by my
best friend. I should have seen it coming.

  I continued up the stairs, still surprised to see Camden there. “What are you doing here?”

  “You’ve been avoiding me, so I thought I’d take matters into my own hands.” He looked down at the bouquet. “These are for you. I guessed on the flowers. Roses seemed a little too ordinary. Peonies are so, I don’t know, classy.” He held them out to me and I could see the fear in his eyes, feel it radiating off him. He was afraid I was going to turn him down again. But I looked at the flowers and took in his words, and the last thread of resistance I’d been clinging to simply snapped.

  “They’re beautiful,” I said, taking the flowers from him. “Thank you.” I brought them closer to my face and took in their beautiful scent. “I love peonies.”

  “I thought you might,” he said with a smile, more relaxed, but still a little hesitant.

  “I wasn’t expecting company, but you’re more than welcome to come in,” I said, giving him a hopeful look. I wasn’t ready to watch him walk away again. He smiled widely and his shoulders relaxed a little, settling back, like a weight had been lifted off him. I brushed past him to get to the door and just being near him made everything inside light up again. Hummingbird wings flittered in my stomach, and my heart thumped harder in my chest.

  I opened the door and stepped inside, watching as he followed me. I closed the door and took in the image of Camden standing in my shabby apartment. None of the guys I’d brought back to my place before had taken the time to check out my place; it’d been more of a beeline straight to the bedroom and then a sneaky exit in the middle of the night. But Camden strolled around leisurely, making himself at home, taking the time to examine the little things about my apartment that made it less of a “place” and more of a “home.”

  I let the silence hang over us for a few moments, but then decided someone had to say something.

  “I would have picked up, but I wasn’t expecting my stalker to show up tonight.” Keeping the smile from my face turned out to be impossible, so I spun and walked into the kitchen so he couldn’t see my goofy grin, and found a vase for my beautiful flowers.

  “I think stalker is a strong word. Real stalkers don’t just e-mail you and wait at your door—they’re stealthier than that.”

  “You better work on your ninja,” I said, laughing, as I filled the vase with water and placed it on the counter.

  His next words were whispered into my ear, startling me. “Noted.” I jumped and he chuckled, but it definitely broke the ice. “But seriously,” he said, his voice gentle and full of apology, as he reached for my hand, turning me, “I’m sorry about last weekend. I got carried away and I shouldn’t have let things move so quickly—”

  “No,” I said, my free hand covering his mouth before I’d thought the move through. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I totally flipped out and then bailed, and it wasn’t cool.” I watched as a grin appeared behind my fingers, so I dropped my hand, only to have him catch it. He twined all his fingers through all of mine, and pulled me in a little closer.

  “So, we’re both sorry.”

  I laughed. “I guess so.”

  “Now what?”

  “I’m not really sure.”

  He held my gaze, neither one of us smiling or frowning, just taking each other in. Then, suddenly, he was pulling me closer, his hands—which were still holding mine—moving to the small of my back, pressing me into him.

  “I think maybe we should start over. Neutral ground. A real date. No public coercion to make out, no Skee-Ball championship, just a regular date. Dinner. I’ll pick you up. I’ll take you home,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me while still smiling.

  I blushed, remembering the way I’d run away from his condo the last time we were together. The idea of him driving me back to my crappy apartment in his fancy car had made me nervous. I let out a sigh, trying to let go of all the negativity. My apartment wasn’t crappy. It was homey and small and cozy. And Camden looked anything but out of place there. In fact, he looked right at home.

  “I’d love to go on a real date with you.”

  The smile he wore changed to something that radiated happiness. Teeth gleaming, eyes crinkling, cheeks bunching—all of it was adorable. Then, much to my delight, he leaned in closer and kissed me. All our previous kisses had been somewhat explosive and while, internally, I was still feeling all kinds of rockets going off and bells ringing, outwardly, this kiss was slow and sweet. Almost reverent, as though he were cherishing the kiss.

  When he pulled away, the same adorable smile graced his face. “Can you be ready in an hour?”

  I pulled back, a little shocked, but smiling still. “Tonight?”

  “Why not?” he asked, shrugging, then he brought the back of my hand to his mouth, kissing it softly. I was a goner.

  My eyes darted between his, thinking and plotting. Finally, I answered. “Can you give me two?”

  Two hours later there was a soft knock at my door, and the birds were flying in exhilarating circles in my belly. My heart thought we were in the middle of a marathon. And my lungs, well, they were holding on to my last breath, hoping it wouldn’t be the end. I’d showered and changed, picking out a white lace dress with cap sleeves I’d never had a chance to wear before. It came down just short of my knees and looked cute with my merlot-colored ankle boots. My hair was curled into soft and loose ringlets, with one side pinned back. I’d put in some dangly pearl earrings and a delicate silver chain bracelet.

  I opened the door smiling, knowing my smile probably wouldn’t leave for the rest of the evening.

  Camden looked nervous, like I imagined a high school boy would look picking up his date, but excited at the same time. I watched his eyes flow down my body, taking everything about me in, appreciating what he saw, then meet my gaze again. “You look amazing,” he breathed.

  “I needed that extra hour,” I joked, but then I let myself examine him. If I looked amazing, he looked like perfection. He hadn’t shaved and was sporting some serious designer stubble, which only did wonderful things for his sharp jaw. And who in the world ever had a sexy Adam’s apple? Camden did. All those beautiful things led to his open-collar button-down in a light blue color, which was contrasted by the dark blue of his jeans. Those fucking thigh-hugging jeans. He came in perfectly between casual and dressy and, of course, was still sexy as hell. “You’re looking pretty handsome yourself.” My smile only grew wider.

  He grinned, held his hand out, and pulled me to him as he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against my cheek. More flutters.

  I closed and locked my door, then smiled as he twined his fingers with mine, leading me down the stairs. The Batmobile was parked at the curb, and I slid in more gracefully than I thought possible after he opened the door for me.

  When we zoomed into traffic my body was still all aflutter. There was soft music playing on the radio and his hand was gently resting on my knee. There was a part of my brain that thought his hand on my bare leg was presumptuous, that normally I’d need to know a man for more than ten days to feel comfortable with that much contact. But I couldn’t deny the majority of my body liked feeling his skin against mine, longed for his hands to claim me in that way, to make me feel like he wanted me. Plus, the man’s mouth had been on my breast the week before. This was tame in comparison.

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Ever been to The Melting Pot?”

  “No, but I’ve always wanted to go. Melted cheese is the way to my heart.”

  He laughed and gave my knee a squeeze, causing all the butterflies in my stomach that had landed to swarm up again, like running through a flock of birds.

  He drove into downtown Portland and parked in a garage, then led me across the street, all the while holding my hand. We came to a staircase leading underground and I gave him a confused look as he pulled me down the stairs.

  “It’s underground?”

  “Don
’t worry. It’s legit.”

  And he was right. The restaurant was completely underground but it made the atmosphere more intimate. There were no windows, only dim lighting and sconces on the wall with one fixture hanging above every table.

  A waiter led us to a booth and I was surprised when Camden slid in next to me. We both ordered drinks and when the waiter left I felt the warmth of Cam’s hand on my leg again.

  “It was probably a bad idea for you to wear this dress, babe.” His whispered words feathered over my neck, causing all kinds of shivers and clenching. “I’ve got a million indecent thoughts running through my mind.”

  Smiling, I slid my hand over his. “You’re going to have to save the indecent for later. I’m here for some bread covered in melted cheese.” I was trying to deflect the arousal caused by his words, the pulsing happening in very private places, places I wanted parts of him to invade. Humor—that was my best defense at this point. Otherwise I foresaw us finding a private bathroom. No, not happening. I wanted a normal dinner with Camden. I wanted the anticipation of what would happen after dinner. I did not want his hand to creep up my thigh. I mean, I did and I didn’t. Just to make my point, I pressed my legs together, squeezing our fingers between my thighs. He only squeezed my leg right back, so I rolled my eyes.

  “So,” he said as the waiter brought our fixings for the bread and cheese I’d been waiting for all my life. “There’s a game this Thursday. Wanna go with me?”

  “To the Renegades game?” I asked, dipping a tiny square piece of bread in the cheesy pot. I wanted to open a restaurant where people could just dip giant chunks of bread in troughs of cheese. These tiny pieces simply wouldn’t do. “Don’t you usually take your friend?”