Page 37 of Bad for Business (Pembroke Hills #2)

THIRTY-SEVEN

RYKER

“Your mom would be so proud of you,” Camille says, her voice soft.

No matter how softly she delivers the words, they hit me right in the heart. I wish I believed her. I wish I thought Mom would be proud of the man I’ve become since her death.

I shake my head. “I don’t think she would be. Not who I’ve been. Not right now. But maybe soon.”

I didn’t expect to unload all of this on Camille, but now that I’ve started, I realize I want to talk about my mom with her.

I want to talk about Mom with someone . I’ve kept it all bottled up, and all that’s done is get me into trouble.

Camille’s blue eyes search mine. I stare right back at her, wishing I could get into that mind of hers.

I’ve loved the last few days with her, but I also feel like I’ve been walking on eggshells the whole time.

I want to soak in every second of her looking at me with a warmth I’ve never seen before.

I don’t ever want to have to give up being able to touch her when I want, being able to kiss her because I can, but every moment I spend with her, I’m scared it might be the last. I know she can pull away at any moment.

She’s done it before. And I’m just scared of what happens if— when —she does it again.

“You’re allowed to make mistakes while grieving the loss of your mom, Ryker. It’s okay that you’ve made mistakes. Don’t beat yourself up about them.”

“Yeah,” I mutter under my breath. “But I was so far gone that I made some pretty big mistakes.”

“We’re fixing them. It’ll be okay. She really would be proud of you, Ryker. You were the perfect son, and you’re the perfect person to take over Davenport Media.”

I sigh, a lot of emotions coming to the surface at her words.

“I think that was part of the problem,” I begin.

“I always tried to be perfect at everything.” I take a shaky breath in as I look into Camille’s eyes.

It feels like I’ve ripped myself open and allowed her to see my deepest vulnerabilities, but I can’t stop myself from doing it.

All I can do is hope that she doesn’t throw them back in my face.

I have to trust her not to. “I was the perfect son, and my mom was the person I loved most in the world, but I still couldn’t save her. ”

My words are said so quietly, my voice so hoarse and thick with emotion, that I wonder if she even heard them. If she didn’t, I can’t repeat them. Saying them out loud once was hard enough.

“Ryker.” The way she says my name just about breaks me. It isn’t with pity. It’s said with pain.

Before I can respond, she climbs into my lap, putting her knees on either side of my hips.

Her legs are wet from the pool, but I don’t care.

I can’t care. I’m too swept up in the way that Camille stares at me with so much emotion that I swear she has to be developing the same feelings for me that I have for her.

I shake my head because there isn’t anything she has to say.

Nothing can change the fact that no matter how perfect I was for most of my life, it didn’t matter.

When it came down to it, Mom still died.

“I had to watch the cancer steal everything from her. It was so quick and harsh, and all I wanted to do was switch places with her. Seeing her like that, it destroyed me. After she went…” My words trail off for a moment as I try to gather my thoughts.

Camille gives me the time to do so. All she does is grab me by the face with both hands, her touch soft and gentle, a way for her to let me know she’s here.

I take a deep breath. “Well, after she passed, being perfect just didn’t seem like it mattered anymore.”

She nods in understanding. “I always suspected that was the catalyst for the recklessness. If the media had known what you were going through, they wouldn’t have been so brutal with broadcasting every single one of your mistakes.”

“I should’ve handled it better. I’m trying to handle it better. I want to look in the mirror and like myself again. Things got dark for me, and I didn’t handle her death as well as I thought I did.”

“That’s so much to go through. You’re handling it the best you can,” Camille responds, her eyes scanning my face.

What is she thinking about?

Now that I’ve opened myself up and told her things I’ve never told anyone else, does she want to run? I fucking hope not. I don’t think I’d survive it. The first time she ran after New Year’s Eve crushed me.

“Can I tell you something?” I ask, the question coming out hoarse. I don’t know if I should tell her this or not. I don’t want to make her feel guilty about what I’m about to say. But I do think she should know. I think it’d help her understand a lot of my actions.

“You can tell me anything.”

Her words soothe my soul.

I give myself a moment to gather my thoughts, to figure out exactly what I want to say to her. “When we met on New Year’s Eve…I think that was the first time I’d felt happy since she passed.”

Camille lets out a little gasp. Her eyes go wide, and two lines appear between her eyes in confusion. “Ryker…” she breathes, not saying anything else.

“I’ll never forget that party.” My lips twitch with the hint of a smile at the memory. “I almost didn’t go. I wasn’t feeling up to partying that night. It felt like it was all I’d been doing, but something told me I needed to go. So I went.”

It was months ago, but I still remember every detail. “I was on my second drink, drowning in my grief at the thought of starting the year without my mom. Then I saw you. You walked in, and it’s like I felt the entire room shift.”

Camille shakes her head. “Yeah, right.”

I laugh because of course she’d think that.

She has no idea how beautiful she is. “It’s true.

For the next hour, I watched one man after the next try to talk to you, but you wouldn’t give them the time of day.

I was so fascinated by you. It was like you were in your own world, turning down one guy after another.

It took me an hour to work up the courage to talk to you. ”

“I remember that,” Camille says, her lips pulling into a smile. “You tried to charm me from the very beginning.”

I lean in and press a kiss to her lips. “It worked, didn’t it?”

She nods before giving me a playful roll of her eyes. “It did.”

I reach up and tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.

The last few days, she hasn’t taken the time to style it.

In fact, she hasn’t gotten ready at all.

I don’t know why, but I love the fact that she doesn’t feel the need to get done up for me.

I’ve spent enough time with her this summer to know she gets ready for everything, so it feels special to know she feels comfortable enough to skip doing that for me.

“That night…” I shake my head as I try to put this into words.

My thumb traces over her cheekbone as I keep thinking.

“I’ve never felt a connection in my life like that.

You didn’t know it, but you were healing a small part of me.

I was smiling—laughing —for the first time since Mom died.

It was the first time I felt that maybe my life could go on without her. ”

“I felt the connection too,” Camille offers. She presses her forehead to mine, the two of us not saying anything for a moment as we just breathe each other in and soak in the moment.

I wonder if she can feel the shaky breath I take in.

There’s something I want to ask her. Something that’s been on my mind for months now.

I’ve just been too scared of the answer, but I can’t resist asking it any longer.

I have to know. “Why did you leave in the morning, then? I don’t understand…

If you felt the connection too, then why were you gone? ”

Camille’s head rears back slightly. Her eyes dart over my face in confusion. “What do you mean? I woke up, and you were gone. I was all alone. I thought there was a connection too, but when you were nowhere to be found, I figured I was the only one who felt it.”

I shake my head. “ No . I felt it. I left that morning to go get you breakfast. There was a bakery not too far from my place that was my mom’s favorite.

Every New Year’s Day, they’d have this wildly outrageous donut to celebrate the start of the new year.

It was a tradition for us to stand in line and get it every year.

I woke up next to you so incredibly happy that all I could think about was sharing that tradition with you.

I left a note on the pillow telling you I’d be right back. When I got back and you were gone, I?—”

“You left a note?” she asks, her voice shaking. She stares at me wide-eyed in disbelief. “I didn’t see one, and honestly, I think I was so hurt that I let you in and you were gone that I didn’t even think about looking for one. I left in a hurry, thinking you’d want me gone as soon as possible…”

My grip on her face tightens as I pull her forehead against mine again. “Not at all. I had all these plans about what we’d do for the day. Fuck, Cami, I know I only knew you a day, but all I wanted to do was make more plans with you.”

I swear her shoulders sag with relief. “You always hate on my plans,” she teases.

Her comment makes me laugh. “I only hated your plans because I hate that you left that morning and decided to go about your life making plans that didn’t involve me.”

“All this time, we were upset with each other for something that was just a misunderstanding.” She shakes her head as if she can’t believe it.

I can’t believe it either, but then again, back then, I was in such a bad headspace that I immediately jumped to the worst conclusions.

“We can’t change it now.”

She shifts her weight a little, her gaze never wavering from mine.

“I’m sorry for all the times I lashed out at you.

I just…I’m not good at being vulnerable, and I was for you that night, and…

” Her voice drifts off again as she thinks through her words.

I give her all the time she needs. I know it’s hard for her to say things like this, so I don’t push her at all.

“And when I woke up alone and thought you didn’t like me, it strengthened a fear I didn’t even realize I had. ”

“And what is that?”

“That even after letting someone in, no one could ever like me…let alone love me.”

Her words break open something inside me, and I can’t help but lean in and trap her mouth with mine, giving everything I have into kissing her.

But in reality, I’m just buying myself time.

Time to tell her what I think she needs to hear—the truth about how I feel.