Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
And for a brief moment, from the way he’s looking at me, I actually think he’s going to act. Going to snatch me up like I belong to him and take me away, far away from here.
But then, in a flash, he spins away from me, gripping the counter like he’s about to snap it into dust. “I’m dating your mother, Katie,” he says simply, as though that ends the conversation.
“We both know you’re not here for my mother,” I reply. “You never were.”
My center tingles with excitement. I shift side to side ever so slightly and become aware of just how soaked I am. My arousal is dripping down my thighs. Cam might just see how turned on for him I am—if he doesn’t already know.
I let my eyes flicker down for the briefest of seconds and see the swollen knot between his legs, a massive bulge held back by the button fly of his jeans. He just absolutely oozes masculinity, dominance, and sex. And his restraint is killing me.
“I’m still your mother’s—”
“What? Her boyfriend?” I ask bitterly. “Have you two ever even touched each other?” His silence speaks volumes. Thank God. I was right. “I see you, Cam. Who you really are.”
He shakes his head. “You see me as your way out of here.”
“No!” I snap, snatching his arm. “I see you. And the way you look at me—”
“Stop it,” he growls, pulling away. It’s like a vacuum forms between us. “I have to go to work.”
“Cam—”
“Lock the door behind me. And stop going through my things. I’m not right for you, Katie. You deserve someone…better.”
I open my mouth to reply, but before I can, he’s gone.
Better? There’s no way he believes that. For some reason, he’s trying to resist, and he thinks putting distance between us will help. He thinks he’s being noble, doing the right thing. But since when has torturing yourself been the right thing to do? I should know, after all.
I hear Mom moving around in the back. In a few minutes, she’ll stumble out and demand some of the coffee Cam made, then say it tastes like crap.
But for now, in this brief moment, I let myself imagine a different future. One where Cam’s projections for his garage work out. Where I stand beside him as he opens the doors to new customers, ready to support him in ways my mom could only ever dream of.
My coffee grows cold in my hands, but I don’t care. All I can think about is how long it will be until he’s home again. Until we do our little back-and-forth dance again, every interaction stripping away another layer of his self-control.
He thinks by doing what he’s doing he’s protecting me from himself. What he doesn’t know is I’d gladly let him destroy me in any way he wanted.
3
CAMERON
The wine glass shatters against the wall, just narrowly missing my head. Mercedes sways in the kitchen, her face twisted in a drunken rage, mascara weeping down her cheeks as she screams, “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” she slurs, grabbing another glass. “Mr. Bigshot with your big dreams of owning a garage?”
The second glass misses me by a mile, crashing into the cabinet. Katie flinches in the doorway, and seeing that tiny movement of fear ignites something in my chest.
“That’s enough, Mercedes.”
“You think you’re too good for me, don’t you!? Cam the hero! Cam the hard worker! You’re just another loser who can’t even warm my bed anymore!”
Katie makes a soft sound, causing my hand to clench at my side. She should not have to see her mother behave like this. I need to shut it down. Fast.
“You’re right,” I tell Mercedes, softening my voice. “I’m nothing to you. Why don’t you just find someone else who can make you happy? Isn’t Tony’s doing Friday Night Specials for another few hours?”
She frowns for a split second, but then her eyes light up with the promise of cheap drinks and attention from other men. She scowls at me, grabs her purse, and stumbles toward the door.
“Don’t wait up.” She almost laughs.
The door slams behind her.
Silence falls over the trailer like a physical weight. Katie stands frozen in the doorway, her innocent body clad in nothing but my T-shirt.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
She nods, but her eyes are glassy with the hint of tears. “She could have seriously hurt you.”
“Nah,” I reply, shaking it off with a smile. “She couldn’t hurt me if she wanted to. Help me clean this up?”
I hand her the dustpan and start sweeping up the broken shards of glass. We work in silence. The kitchen is small—too small for two people to move without almost touching each other, and as she reaches down with the dustpan, her hip brushes against mine, and I have to clench my jaw against the urge to snatch her up with both hands.