by Kate Stewart
“Max is her boss,” he said. “She won’t cross the line.”
“He clearly isn’t in it just for sex,” I said, scanning the crowd for his little devil.
“How do you know?”
“If he’s been waiting for a year, he’s obviously in love with her,” I said with a shrug.
“I think so too. It’s a shitty situation. He can’t exactly fire her so he can date her.”
“That sucks. My brother can give him pointers. He’s slept with his whole surgical team,” I said dryly.
“And how’s that working out for him?” Cameron asked, taking a sip of his punch.
“He’s still breathing.”
“Are you two close?”
“He’s a good brother as far as brothers go. A little overprotective. I’m sure at one point he’ll try to threaten you. We still fight like we did when we were kids, and he still embarrasses the hell out of me.”
“In that case, I can’t wait to meet him.”
We shared a smile, and that was becoming routine for us.
“I’ll spare you that for now, while I still like you.”
I studied his face. “You’ve got a little green around your mouth.”
I wiped it away as he stared up at me. “When I met you, your face was a little lighter shade than this.”
“You noticed that?” Damned nightly facial mask. “Well, it was slob day.”
“Slob day?”
“Yeah, no makeup, no dieting. Just roll out of bed and brush your teeth kind of day.”
“Where do I sign up?”
“You could never be a slob, Cameron. You’re too pretty.”
“Yeah, but does this blazer make me look fat?”
“Har har,” I said as he stood with me still in his hold.
“Dance with me, witchy woman,” he said as he led me to the floor.
We barely fit in the small space. Cameron subtly moved his hips and I followed along.
After a few minutes of silence, he pulled me close and whispered in my ear. “You might not be the jealous type, but I hate the fucking thought of anyone else touching you.”
A few hours later, my body was buzzing along with the music. Despite Cameron’s protest, I drank two pints of the Kitchen Sink and was feeling no pain. I kept my wits about me as the party cranked up, and so did the heat from the number of bodies in the pub. Cameron stayed glued to my side, ever attentive, making sure I was happy and comfortable. He even waited outside the bathroom for me like a true gentleman.
By the end of the night, Max and I were chummy, and Cameron and I were worked up for each other from hours of grinding our bodies on the dance floor. I wasn’t much of a dancer, but I could fake my way through it. The man loved to dance. Not only that, he had rhythm—a hell of a lot of it. He wasn’t a show-off, but he was good at it.
I caught a few more women eyeing him, which made my chest swell with pride, but he kept his eyes trained on my hideous nose. After working up a sweat, I was finally able to get the latex off and it sat at one of the empty pint glasses at our table.
The bar was sweltering when I exited the bathroom after thoroughly washing my face. My hair was slightly tangled, and I’d done my best to comb through it with my hands. I looked a wreck, but my date didn’t seem to give a damn as he greeted me.
“There’s my girl,” he whispered, cupping my chin before he placed a kiss on my nose. “You ready to go?”
“Sure.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving, actually.”
“Let’s go.” Cameron led us through the bar as we searched for Max to say goodbye. He was in a deep conversation with a little devil and gave us a half wave.
“I guess we’ll meet her some other time,” Cameron said with a look over his shoulder.
“You think he’s okay?” I asked, looking Rachel over before he pulled me out the door. She was beautiful, and from what I could tell, she appeared upset. Max looked like he was on the verge of tears.
“That didn’t look good. I hope everything’s okay.”
“I’ll check on him later.” And I knew he would. Cameron was the type.
“Maybe we should go back.” I stopped my feet, haunted by the amount of pain in Max’s eyes when he had been all smiles moments earlier.
“You can’t fix that. They have to work it out, Abbie.”
“I know, it’s just . . . he told me more about them when you were getting our drinks. She has a son, and Max loves him. I just wish we could help.”
Cameron’s eyes glittered over me.
“What?”
“I love the way you care about people. It’s such a good thing. It’s like your heart is too big for you.”
“So, I’m not a witchy woman?”
“Of course you are,” he said with a smirk. “You ripped my head off when I woke you up Saturday.”
“It was early.”
“It was noon, you big poser. When we first met, you were all dolled up early for our coffee dates,” he said with a laugh as we walked outside to discover it was sleeting. The brisk air hit us, and we both sighed in welcome.
“Wait here, I’ll get us a cab.”
“Okay, good, because I’m melting, melting!” Cameron rolled his eyes and jogged to the street, successfully flagging down a taxi. Once he gave me the signal, I burst into a sprint to meet him there.
Cameron grinned as I met him at the door. “That was cute.”
“What was cute?” I asked as I slid into the seat to make room for him.
“That little dance you just did.”
I bit my lip as he shut the door, his hair covered in glistening water.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” he said, confused. He spoke to the driver, “Hollywood Grill.”
We took off like a shot away from the curb as I spoke under my breath. “I wasn’t dancing.”
“What?” Cameron asked. “What were you doing?”
Meh. Next subject.
“I love Hollywood Grill. They have good chicken fried steak, though Bree said it’s shit, but that’s like the state dinner of Georgia I think.” I snorted at my own joke.
“Don’t change the subject. What was that back there?”
I grimaced. Damn Kitchen Sink punch. “I was running.”
“You were what?”
“I was running.”
Despite my warning look, his laughter didn’t stop until we got to the diner.
Hollywood Grill was a ’50s style eatery and the best place to soak up a night of drinks in Wicker Park. When Bree and I moved to the neighborhood, we used to frequent the diner often after our late nights. It had been years since I’d been there. I missed my good-time girl and shot off a text to her telling her so as I sat with my good-time guy, who was still grinning at me.
“So that was running?”
“Would you drop it?” I scorned. “I think we’ve had enough fun tonight at my expense.”
“We have, but there isn’t a chance in hell I’m dropping it.”
“I have a running affliction,” I said, sipping my water.
“A . . . running affliction,” he parroted, his expression showing he wasn’t buying it.
“Yes, a running affliction,” I reiterated, hiding behind my menu.
Cameron faced the wall in an attempt to hold in his laugh, and I kicked him under the table with my pointy shoe.
“Ouch,” he said, giving me a wary glance.
“You deserved it.”
“So, tell me, how long have people been calling an ambulance when that happens?”
“Cameron,” I warned as he burst into another fit of laughter. “You’re such an ass. I’ve been made fun of for the way I run my whole life.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, sobering. “Well, have no fear, beautiful. Running just so happens to be one of the things I’m good at.”
“So you’ve told me,” I said, pretending to scan my menu. “Some of us aren’t that graceful.”
“No one is when they s
tart,” he said sincerely.
“I’m a little bowlegged. It’s always been hard for me,” I admitted, my face flaming.
A beat of silence. I didn’t look at him.
“You know with running, there is a posture to it. We can retrain your body.”
That piqued my interest, and I looked up from my menu. “Really?”
“Yes,” he said, taking off his blazer. “If you want, I’ll guide you through it. I’ll coach you.”
The little girl inside me who watched relay races from the sidelines and vied to get picked as someone’s partner or just once for Red Rover perked up.
“I don’t know. I’m pretty lazy in the morning.”
“I can change that too. You can run your first marathon by spring.”
I looked at him skeptically. “I doubt that.”
“Then let this be my promise to you. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Both of my hands pinned above my head, Cameron dipped and sipped my neck before he captured my mouth, thrusting his tongue deep, kissing me within an inch of my life. His solid body rocked against mine as he coiled me tightly beneath him.
Everything inside me was screaming for relief as he ground his hips and pressed his erection to my stomach. “Abbie,” he murmured, trailing his palm from the side of my face, down my chest, cupping my breast as he kept his eyes on mine. I could see my breath as it hit his full lips. It was coming out in fast spurts. His hand drifted further, and he paused, his eyes flitting to mine for permission that I gave with silence before he cupped my sex through my leggings.
Moaning out my welcome, he brushed his fingers along the fabric, and I tilted my head back.
“Are you wet for me?” he murmured to my throat as we got indecent on my porch. Reaching between us, I gripped his dick through his pants and heard a grunt while he worked his fingers against me, adding pressure. “Should I make you come right here on your porch so every time you’re at your door you think of me?”
“Cameron,” I prayed.
“That’s not an answer,” he admonished as he made quick work of dipping into my leggings and swiping a finger against the edge of my panties. I twisted my hips before he skimmed a lone finger over the silk covering my drenched middle. He worked it back and forth slowly, toying with me as I ground into him, desperate for friction.
“Jesus, you’re soaked,” he said as he rubbed the finger over the barrier then tucked it beneath. He cursed as he buried his nose in my hair and bit down on my shoulder before he thrust his fingers inside me and began to work them. Gasping at the feeling, I was already there as he began to pump them while I clutched his shoulders. “Someone will see,” I managed to get out, jerking myself against him to chase my release as he pressed in deeper.
“I’m going to come,” I announced as if he couldn’t feel my body start to tremble.
“Let go,” he ordered as he worked me over. I succumbed to the wave of heat that swept over me. He straightened, looking down at me as I convulsed with lips parted, wordless as ecstasy coursed through my veins. Looking at his face only heightened it—his eyes blazing while his jaw pulsed. The strain in his features looked like a mix of pleasure and pain while he watched me crack under his touch.
“Watching you come . . . it’s better than anything I imagined,” he whispered as he slowed his digits and softly kissed me before he straightened my dress. My craving for him was only mildly tempered by the orgasm he gifted me. I wanted more, and I wanted it then. I gripped his blazer and threw myself into a kiss, which he returned just as feverishly. He lifted me so he could slowly grind his rock-hard dick between my thighs. I was already on the verge again while his tongue teased mine.
“We should probably not have sex on my porch,” I said as he worried my lip with his teeth.
I was too turned on to be embarrassed about our little indiscretion, and by the look on his face, he didn’t give a damn, either. But my porch wasn’t the place and the words “come in” refused to come out.
Reluctantly, he pulled away slowly, setting me to my feet before he gave me a tight smile.
“It’s late,” he whispered. “I should go.” He leaned in and searched my eyes. Once he drew a conclusion, he backed away.
I was already mourning the loss of him, my body aching for more.
“Tonight was amazing,” I said. “Thank you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I nodded.
I was about to speak when he beat me to it.
“’Night, beautiful.”
At six a.m. the next morning, there was a pounding on my door. I opened it to find a drop-dead gorgeous coach smiling at me. I promptly slammed it in his face. I heard his laugh before I slowly opened it again. This time, he held two boxes.
“Okay, we’ve only been asleep five hours. Can training wait until tomorrow?”
“No time like the present.”
“When I said yes, I didn’t mean today,” I said, making a quick excuse.
“So, you want to start tomorrow?” he asked.
“That would be awesome. I can get new running clothes and everything.”
“I had a feeling that might be your excuse. I’ve got you covered.”
I groaned. Of course he did.
“New Nikes, size seven. These will be good for your affliction,” he said sweetly. I didn’t take offense as I pulled out the shoes.
“These are awesome,” I said, “and expensive. Cameron, you didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to. There’s some clothes in the next box. I like pink on you.”
It took everything I had not to mount him in my entryway.
“Wow,” I said as I pulled out the hot pink pants and matching shirt. There were a few more outfits as well as a sports bra. I was speechless.
“When did you get this stuff?”
“Last night when I left you, I went and robbed my own store,” he said. “Go try that on, and then we’ll stretch.”
“Okay,” I said, booking it down the hall, a strange excitement seeping into me. After brushing my teeth, I tied my hair up and washed my face. Everything he got fit perfectly, and I loved the look of it.
I walked out to meet him in my entryway.
“Sexy,” he said, biting his lip.
“Thank you,” I said, leaning in to kiss him. “Is it weird I’m kind of excited?”
“Not at all. I’m happy you are, especially at this time of day. And you’re going to love this, once you find your stride.”
I wanted to confess to him then I’d been trying to find my stride my whole life, both literally and figuratively. I was still fighting the emotion from his gesture. He would never know how much it meant to me. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Cameron led me through a list of stretches. He told me because of my gait, we had to do a few extra to make sure my inner thighs were taken care of. Apparently, he’d been studying up. I did as well and had watched a few videos on the art of running before I’d passed out. I’d laid in bed, dreaming about being one of those women that I envied who could run gracefully, confident. I wanted it more than I had led him to believe.
“We’ll aim for a mile today,” Cameron said as we hit the sidewalk. “But we’ll start slow.
“A mile.” I nodded. One didn’t seem so bad. Mentally rehearsing everything I’d learned, I psyched myself up as Cameron gave me a few more pointers.
“Remember to breathe. Don’t hold it. Steady in and out.”
“Got it.”
“Keep your own pace, not mine. If you get tired, try to press through with your breathing, and if it starts to hurt, stop.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s go.” We set off as I tried to push off on the pads of my feet, arms close, hands loosely fisted, and breaths even. Cameron had a long stride and looked graceful in his jogging suit.
I mimicked what I could. But less than five minutes later, everything I learned went straight to hell. I was panting and close to seeing black. Cameron look
ed back at me as I lagged, and my arms went full T-Rex. He stopped in his tracks, seeing me struggle, and chuckled.
Something about it set me off. My cheeks flamed, a burning knot formed in my throat. Maybe it was the years of criticism I’d endured or the fact that I’d told him about it last night, but it hurt to watch him laugh at me. My heart plummeted as his dimples appeared.
“Hey, I’m just going to go back to my house.”
His smile was replaced with confusion.
“What?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Abbie—”
“Text me later or something,” I called over my shoulder as I headed in the direction of my house. Seconds later, I was caught by the waist and set on my feet as Cameron smiled down at me, but it disappeared when he read my face.
Hands on my hips, I glared up at him.
“This is what you call helping me? You laughing?”
Cameron surveyed my face. “You’re really pissed?”
“Just forget it.” I moved past him, and he stopped me.
“Abbie—”
“It’s fine, okay,” I snapped. “You know, whatever, I’m used to it.”
I walked off, determined to make it back to my house without shedding a tear, when I heard him bark behind me.
“Hey, lady!”
Something in his tone made me stop in my tracks and turn back his way. Long strides had him in front of me in seconds, and he looked . . . pissed. He loomed over me as I crossed my arms.
“Abbie, for the past two months that I’ve conversed with you, I’d like to think I’ve learned a lot, and one of the things I’ve learned is that you can dish it out just as good as you can take it. So, what’s going on?”
“You’ve seen too much.”
“I assure you I haven’t.”
“It’s like I’m a joke to you.”
“I assure you, you’re not.”
“So, when you were laughing at me just then, it meant nothing, right? And what’s with the six a.m. wake up call to exploit my weakness?”
“Exploit your weakness? Abbie, you can’t be serious,” he said, his brows pressing together.
“Like I said, I’m used to it. Everyone I love or am close to makes fun of me.”