Down on My Knees

by Samantha Conley

  What the fuck did I do?

  Isaac

  “Come on Cam, pick up the phone,” I mutter as the phone rings. Fuck, voicemail…again. I knew there was a chance that she would be pissed off about the other night, but I didn’t expect her to flat out ignore me. When the light started to peek through her blinds, I reluctantly unwrapped myself from around her, climbed out of bed, and snuck out to my truck in just my jeans and boots. Leaving her sleeping in her bed was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Luckily, she lives in a quiet neighborhood, and I didn’t attract any unwanted attention leaving her home in the wee hours of the morning. The last thing that I wanted to do was make her gossip fodder for the moms in the neighborhood. Now it’s coming back to bite me in the ass.

  “Red, please call me back. Or text me. Something.” Even I can hear the desperation in my voice.

  Never in my life have I ever wanted a woman as much as I want Camryn. My Red. My firecracker. The one woman who normally wouldn’t give me the time of day. And just my luck, the only time that I had her where I wanted her, she was shit-faced drunk.

  Fuck my life.

  I should have never let it go as far as it did that night. The guilt I feel doesn’t compare to the satisfaction of feeling her come apart. Lapping up her sweet syrup after I made her come.

  And then she passed out.

  I couldn’t even be mad. It probably stopped me from doing something I would have ultimately regretted. As much as I would love to believe that I would have had the willpower to stop myself from plunging into her warm, willing flesh. Honestly, I don’t know if I’m that strong.

  Now, I’ll take anything at this fucking point. Pressing the red button, I disconnect the call, then sit with my elbows on my knees, tapping my phone against my forehead. For days, I’ve been trying to get her to talk to me. Hell, acknowledging my existence would work. Nothing. I even went to her place and knocked on her door, hoping to force her to rely on her southern manners and speak to me. She never even came to the door.

  Running my hands through my hair, I lean back on the couch. We’re leaving for our next tour tomorrow, and I am desperate to see her and make things right between us before I leave. Well, drastic times call for drastic measures. Scrolling through my contacts, I find Keith’s number. Maybe he’ll take mercy on me and give me Sarah’s number. Then maybe I can convince her to help me get to Camryn.

  “’Lo?”

  “Keith, it’s Isaac.” I pause, rubbing my temples. “Can I ask you a huge favor?”

  “Dude! A favor you say? Hmmm, I may need to think about that.”

  “Kei—”

  “I’m kidding. What can I do for you?” He laughs.

  “Sarah.” As soon as I say her name, the laughter cuts off.

  “Excuse me?” he bites out.

  “To talk, man. Just to talk,” I clarify.

  “Why do you need to talk to my woman?” He asks, curiosity in his voice.

  “I need her help.”

  “Oh, shit. Woman trouble, huh? Anyone in particular? Say a certain redhead from the other night?”

  Rubbing a hand across my forehead, I realize I’ve never been in this position before.

  “Yeah, man.”

  “Never thought I’d see the day, Isaac brought down by a woman.” In the background, there is a feminine voice. “Wait. Damn it, woman, give me a second, and I’ll hand you the damn phone.”

  Keith’s laughter, a hand slapping flesh, and a squeaked out, “Give me the phone!” ring out through the speaker.

  “Isaac? Whatcha need, sugar?” Sarah drawls through the line.

  “You to arrange a meeting.”

  “O-kay?” she asks, drawing out the word.

  “Camryn won’t talk to me, won’t answer my calls or texts. I even went by her house, and she wouldn’t answer her door.”

  “She didn’t answer her door because she probably wasn’t there. She’s been out of town. She just got back last night.”

  “She left? Where the hell did she go?”

  “She didn’t say. Just said she needed a few days to find herself or something. She went to a hotel and vegged out. No phone. No communication. She ignored me too, so don’t take it personally. She texted me last night to let me know she’s back.”

  “That means she’s gotten the messages and texts I left.” I resign myself to the fact that Camryn is just flat out ignoring me.

  “Probably.”

  “I’m desperate, Sarah. I’m leaving tomorrow to go back out on tour for a few months. I have to see her before I leave.”

  “Sometimes that girl doesn’t know what’s good for her, I swear. I’ll think of something and text you with the details. Be ready, it may be last minute.”

  “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “No, you just owe me—big. And, sugar, I will collect.”

  Why the hell does that scare me?

  Three hours later, my phone dings with a text from an unknown number.

  Unknown: Mamacita’s on Bellevue @ 7. Hurt my friend, and I’ll kick your ass. She’s expecting me.

  Me: Thank you. The last thing I want to do is hurt her.

  Sarah: One shot, make it count.

  Getting to the restaurant fifteen minutes early, I take a seat at the bar that allows me to keep an eye on the door. I order a beer as the noise of the people talking and silverware clinking on plates drone in the background. Ten minutes later, she walks through the door. Her deep red hair is pulled over her shoulder, and her forest green shirt makes her skin look creamy. Stopping at the hostess stand, she speaks to the young blonde woman there, a smile lighting her face, before being led to a booth toward the back. Once she’s settled with her chips and salsa and a glass of water, I make my way toward the booth. She hasn’t noticed my approach as she glances over the menu. Taking a deep breath, I slide onto the seat opposite of her.

  “Hey, girl. What do you recommend?” Her smile falters as she lowers the menu and realizes I’m not who she was expecting.

  “Isaac, wha-what are you doing here?” she asks, then looks out over the restaurant for Sarah.

  “I came to see you,” I answer honestly. No time for bullshit.

  She tucks her hair behind her ear and drops her gaze to her menu.

  “You’ve been ignoring me.”

  “I’ve been out of town,” she says, looking down at her glass of water, finger wiping across the condensation.

  “Did you have a good time?”

  “Um, yes I did. My parents gave me a gift certificate for a stay at a spa. I decided it was time to put it to use.”

  “When did you get back?”

  Biting her lower lip, she looks back down at the menu.

  “Last night.”

  “I see.”

  “Isaac—”

  “That means you’ve had plenty of time to read my messages and hear my voicemails.”

  She nods her head, still not making eye contact with me. I hate that. I want those beautiful honey eyes on mine.

  My questioning is halted by the return of the waitress. I order some chicken enchiladas while Cam chooses a cheese quesadilla.

  Finally, she looks up at me, realizing I’m waiting for her to answer.

  “I didn’t know what to say,” she breathes out.

  “At least you’re honest.”

  “Isaac, the other night…that was not me.”

  “I think it was, to a point. You loosened up and had some fun with your friend. You don’t do that often enough.”

  “I usually don’t drink that much either.”

  “That punch it potent stuff. It’s no joke.”

  “It’s just that…well, I’ve never done that before.”

  “Gotten drunk?”

  “No…well, no not that either.”

  “Then what?”

  “A one-night stand.”

  “You’ve never had a one-night stand?” I ask, incredulous. Jesus, I couldn’t count on both hands the number I’ve had.

 
“No.” She blushes, twining her hair around her finger.

  “I have good news for you then,” I say before taking a drink.

  “Good news?” she asks, brow arching.

  “It doesn’t have to be a one-night stand. I want more, Camryn.”

  “Isaac, I can’t. I’m not built that way.”

  “What way?”

  “To be someones…uh, you know.”

  “No, I don’t, Red. Enlighten me.”

  “I can’t be a person who just has sex with someone without there being more.”

  “Is that what you think I want?”

  “Well, yes,” she says, a bewildered look on her face.

  “Jesus, what kinda guy do you think I am? I don’t want you as a fuck buddy.”

  Throat clearing grabs my attention. The waitress is standing there with our food. Staring down at the table, she places them in front of us with a resounding thud before asking if we need anything else. I indicate another beer before she hurries off. Glancing at Camryn, she’s staring out the window, but the blush heating her cheeks practically makes her face glow.

  “Sorry, Red. I didn’t hear her walk up.”

  “It’s okay,” she murmurs.

  “No, it’s not. I didn’t want to do this in public. But we leave tomorrow, and I needed to see you before we left.” I lower my voice. “Look, I don’t want you for sex.”

  “I know.” The dejectedness in her voice makes me think there’s more to her words than what she’s saying.

  “What do you think you know?”

  “That the other night was a mistake or a one-off. I understand.”

  Running a hand down my face, I wonder if this can get any more fucked up.

  “Why would I think that?”

  “Because I know what kind of girls you’re used to.” She gives a little shoulder shrug. “They aren’t me.”

  “Camryn, look at me.” Once her attention is solely on me, I speak. “That night was not a mistake. It was not a one-off. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since, and no, you’re not like the girls I’m normally with.”

  When her gaze drops, I continue. “You’re better. None of them hold a candle to you.”

  “Oh please,” she says with a derisive snort.

  “I’m serious. You’re beautiful. Only…you don’t see it. You don’t see yourself the way I see you.”

  “Isaac—”

  “No, Camryn, I’m serious. I’ve wanted you for a very long time, but you never took me seriously. And maybe then you were right, I wasn’t. But I am now.”

  Her soulful eyes search my face as if to ascertain the truth of my statement. All she’ll read there is certainty.

  “What are you saying?” she asks.

  “I want to give us a try.”

  “Us? Like a relationship? Boyfriend, girlfriend?”

  “I think we’re a little old for those titles, but yes.”

  “You don’t do relationships,” she reminds me.

  “I haven’t before, but I want to try. With you.”

  “Me? Why me?” she asks, one brow arched.

  “Because you’re special. I can’t get you out of my head.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t. Hell, I don’t understand sometimes. But you’re in there. Morning, noon, and especially at night. You are all I think about.”

  She just sits there, a look of surprise, shock, and disbelief on her face.

  “I know I just sprung this on you. All I want you to do is think about it. Let’s eat before this food gets cold.”

  “Do you want dessert?” I ask as soon as we finish our meals, trying to keep her here with me. I have a feeling she’s going to bolt at the first opportunity.

  “No, I’m stuffed.” She pushes the heavy, white plate away from her.

  Reaching across the table, I grasp her hand in mine before she moves it away. “Listen, I know you don’t know what to think about all of this, and I don’t expect an answer right now. I know my reputation. You know it too,” I say with a sad smile. “But I am serious about this. We’re leaving tomorrow for a few months. Think this over. When I get back, we’ll talk. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she answers, her voice filled with reluctance.

  Throwing some cash on the table, I stand up, offering my hand. When she grasps mine, I get the same jolt I get every time I’m lucky enough to touch her. As we walk to her car, the nervous energy is practically pouring off her.

  “Camryn, can I kiss you goodnight?” Jesus, did I really just ask her that? What kind of pussy am I turning into?

  “Isaac…”

  “Please, Red, I need to feel your lips on mine. Something to get me through the next few months.”

  Before she can tell me no, I brush my lips across hers. Lightly, barely enough to call it a kiss. Her little pink tongue swipes across her bottom lip, and I barely hold back a groan.

  “Cam…” When she glances at my mouth, it takes everything I have to hold myself back from devouring her. I place a kiss on her forehead and step back.

  “You headed home?” She nods. “Please drive carefully. And will you answer when I call?”

  “Yes.”

  With one last kiss, I say, “Goodnight, Red. Sweet dreams. And I really hope you dream of me. I know I’ll be dreaming of you.”

  Camryn

  What the hell am I thinking? Am I really considering this? He wants a relationship with me? Me? The chubby redhead with the wild hair, flabby body, and absolutely no fashion sense? The idea still leaves me thunderstruck. I’ve seen the type of girls he goes home with. Blonde, brunette, or redhead—he likes all the colors of the rainbow. They all have things in common: tall, perfect sized boobs, and asses, flat stomachs, flawless makeup, and sexy clothes—the exact opposite of me.

  Reaching over, I grab my phone and see it’s three in the morning. Too early to call Kristen or Sarah. I could really use their advice right now. Am I crazy for even considering this? Before I realize what I’m doing, I scroll through my messages until I reach the ones Isaac had sent me after New Years.

  Isaac: Hey, girl. Give me a call when you get up. I need to talk to you.

  Isaac: You ever going to text me back? I just want to make sure you’re okay.

  Isaac: Will you at least text me back?

  Isaac: Please, Red?

  Biting my lip, I recall how badly I wanted to respond, but was too chicken to find out he regretted what happened. I don’t think my heart could have taken it. The man has always held a place in my heart, though God only knows why. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame the first night I met him—the night he looked right through me to the blonde chick sitting at the table behind us. Watching him walk out the door with his arm wrapped around her later that night had been like getting stabbed in the chest. Why? I had just met the guy, and it was more than obvious he didn’t feel the electricity shoot from his skin to mine when he steadied me on the stool after I lost my balance. At the contact, my gaze flew to his face and my eyes locked onto his dark green ones, but there was nothing—no recognition of what was coursing through my body. When his gaze shifted behind me, his eyes lit up. The pain in my chest hadn’t really been from my heart breaking, had it?

  The man has the power to hurt me more than anyone before. And that is what scares me to death. I love Adam, but he was right. I’m not any more in love with him than he was with me. It was nice to have someone to spend time with on occasion. It didn’t bother me much that he spent time out with the boys. I was perfectly fine waiting at home, reading a book or watching a movie with a big bowl of popcorn in my pajama pants and t-shirt. It made me happy to have someone to take care of and cuddle up with at night. The sex wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t the mind-blowing sex I’ve always read about. Did I set my expectations too high by reading romance novels? Maybe the world isn’t supposed to shatter and feel like an out of body experience. Adam was the only man I’d ever been with until Isaac.

  From what I rememb
er from that night, the world around me exploded into a million stars. Never in my life had I felt anything like it. I had to be dreaming that part. At least I prayed I was. It would be my luck that Isaac would be the one to make me come apart at the seams.

  Me: Are we crazy for even considering this?

  I hit send before I can change my mind. I lay the phone down on my chest with a trembling hand. Waiting for a response, I hold my breath, even knowing he’s more than likely asleep since he probably flies out today. When my phone dings, it feels like my heart stops. Laying my hand on the phone, I can’t make myself look at it. What if he changed his mind? What if it was a joke? Instead of butterflies in my stomach, it feels like birds trying to peck their way out. Damn it, Camryn, put on your big girl panties and read the damn text!

  Isaac: Maybe. But there’s no one else I want to try this crazy with.

  Me: What if you change your mind?

  Isaac: What if I don’t?

  Me: You have no idea how badly you can hurt me.

  Isaac: That’s the last thing I ever want to do. But there are no guarantees in life. I wish there were.

  Me: I’m scared.

  Isaac: Me too. At least you know what to expect in a relationship. I’m flying by the seat of my pants here.

  Me: My last one didn’t work out too well, FYI.

  Isaac: You’re still ahead of me.

  Isaac: If you don’t mind me asking, what did happen between you and Adam?

  Me: He realized he wasn’t in love with me like he needed to be.

  Isaac: Are you in love with him?

  How do I answer that honestly? But wouldn’t that make me pathetic for staying with a man I wasn’t in love with for years? And all because I didn’t want to be alone…

  Isaac: Red?

  Isaac: You don’t have to answer that.

  Isaac: We can wait to try this if you need time. I just wanted you to know where I stand with us.