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Chapter Two

Cameron

The bouncer hands my ID back as he gestures over his shoulder for me to enter. I go through the doors and stop at the podium where the guy takes my money and stamps my hand. The doors to the club open as the person in front of me heads in, and I go in right after them, the music so loud I can hardly hear myself think. It’s my favorite. Getting lost in music, alcohol, and dancing. I’ve been coming to this club since I was eighteen, and though it goes through staff like I change my underwear, there are a few who’ve been here for a while and know me well.

Like Sid, the bartender.

“Long time no see,” he says when I squeeze between a few people loitering around.

“Been busy with school.”

He nods in understanding. “Want your usual?”

“Please,” I call back, sliding my card along the table for him to take when he gets back. He already knows I want a tab open. When I come here, I close it down, and tonight will be no different.

Austen is out with his shitty teammates, and being home alone with my thoughts isn’t something I can handle tonight. I thought I’d be fine to go home after modeling for the drawing class, something I do often enough, but even sitting there was difficult.

I don’t understand why Austen is friends with those guys. Not even friends, but how does he stand them? He’s nothing like them and they don’t even see it. Hell, I don’t think he sees it. Which makes me think I’m the problem here, not him.

“See you soon,” Sid says once he hands me my drink and takes my card. I sip from it as I make my way to the outer edge of the dancefloor. I’ll finish this drink, walk around a little, get another drink, and then I’ll be ready to dance. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to take someone home tonight.

I use the bathroom after my second drink, then move through the writhing bodies, to the center of the dance floor and dance. Most people who come here come with a crowd or a friend, but Austen would never be caught dead in a club like this. He does a lot of things for me, but this isn’t one of them. And honestly, I’m not sure I’d want him to come here. This is my safe place. One place I don’t see him, don’t have to worry about seeing him. Sometimes I just need a break. Sometimes I wonder why I came to this town, this college, at all. This won’t end the way I want, but I have too much hope in my heart to give up. Austen isn’t married yet. Until then, I’m staying.

“Hey!” is shouted in my ear, so I turn to find a smiling guy who looks slightly familiar. “You’re Cameron, right?”

I nod, running a hand through my sweaty hair. He holds out his hand for a shake, so I use my sweat-free one.

“You are?” I question.

“Greyson.” He leans in close. “I drew you in class today.”

I grin as he lets go of my hand. I knew he looked familiar.

“You were sitting in the back left.”

His eyes light up. “You noticed?”

“Sure did. You want to dance?”

“Hell yeah.”

He’s a good looking guy. Your typical artsy guy with dirty-blond hair that’s a little too long and clothes that are artfully put together and most people would think look ridiculous, but it all suits him.

Greyson moves closer to me, putting his arm around my waist, not being shy at all. I like that in a guy. Love when they’re forward with what they want. I don’t like playing games. I rest my arms on his shoulder and we move to the beat, grinding our bodies together to the heavy bass. It’s hot, and we’re sweaty, and the music keeps going. Turning in his arms, I move closer, rubbing my ass against him and grin when I feel he’s hard.

I’m not the best dancer, but I know how to use my body to get someone excited. I get enough practice.

We get through a few more songs before I feel like I’m going to pass out, so I turn to face him again.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure!”

We move through the dancers and get to the bar, where Sid gives me a knowing smirk.

“Another for me, and whatever he’s having,” I tell him.

“Rum and Coke.”

“Shots?” I ask.

“Why not?” Greyson answers with a shrug.

I hold up two fingers. “Two kamikazes.”

“Never had it before,” Greyson says in my ear. “Is it good?”

“Are shots ever actually good?”

He chuckles. “Fair.”

We get our drinks, cheers our shots, and shoot them back. I hiss at the burn, then pick up my drink and suck down half of it.

“So, you’re a senior, right?” he asks, leaning against the bar.

“That’s right. I’m guessing you’re a sophomore?”

“Junior.” I raise a brow. “I know, I’m taking a sophomore class. Honestly? The thought of drawing naked people scared the hell out of me.”

I laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“How do you get the confidence to sit there naked?” he asks.

“Well, the pay is good, for one. Two, guess I just don’t care what people think.”

“If I looked like you, I’d probably feel the same way.”

“I’m sure you look just fine under these clothes.” I tug on the hem of his shirt.

His eyes blaze with heat and I take another sip of my drink, pushing thoughts of Austen from my mind. He’s probably drunk by now. Probably got some girl dancing all over him, making his dick hard. The thought pisses me off.

“So you come here often?” I ask. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“Have for a few months. I’ve seen you around.”

“Is that so?”

He grins in response, sipping his drink.

Should I hook up with this guy? No. It’s only going to make me feel like shit about myself tomorrow, but I’m not worrying about tomorrow. I’m worrying about tonight, about right now. About getting my mind off Austen Brewer because he can never be mine.

Greyson’s back hits the bathroom wall so hard it knocks the breath out of him. His lips find mine as I undo his belt then the button of his jeans.

“Turn around,” I say as I pull a condom from my pocket and tear it open.

He does without question, dropping his pants below his ass. It’s nice. Round and jiggly. I spit into my hand, sliding it between his crease before notching my dick there and pressing forward. His hands are flat on the wall, cheek pressed against it. As I ease my way inside him, I reach around to grab his dick and stroke. I’m not a complete asshole, I don’t leave my one-night stands hanging, especially when I don’t take the time to prep them.

He groans deeply as I bottom out inside him, pushing his ass into me as I start to thrust.

“Fuck,” he grits out, nails digging at the wall. “Faster. Go faster.”

“Stroke your dick for me.”

I grip his hips and fuck him faster and harder. He works his dick, clenching around my cock. The orgasm builds quickly. It’s been a while since I hooked up with someone. I never feel good afterwards, and sometimes that makes me take a break. After the last time, I said it was going to be the last, but I should have known better. There’s only one person who will ever be the last, and my chances with him are slim to none.

“I’m coming,” he grounds out.

“Almost there,” I tell him, going even harder. The orgasm hits suddenly, crashing over me. I rest my forehead against his back for just a second before pulling out of him and tearing the condom off, tossing it into the small wastebasket in the corner. I fix my pants, trying to catch my breath. When I look up, he’s doing the same.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be all clingy or anything,” he says, and that right there is a red flag. I feel like if you have to say it, it means you have to try not to be like that.

“Wasn’t worried,” I say, running a hand through my hair that’s sweatier than ever. I need a fucking shower.

“Nice to know your dick feels as good as it looks.”

I laugh. It’s also not the first time I’ve heard that.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I pull it out.

“Sorry, I gotta take this,” I say, answering it and keeping my eyes on Greyson. He walks past me, out of the stall and to the sink to wash his hands. I shake my head at his cum splattered all over the wall. The cleaners must get paid a shit ton to work here. It’s worth no less.

“What are you doing?” Austen asks.

“At the club, probably heading home soon. Why?”

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

I head to the sink to wash my hands, putting my phone between my shoulder and ear.

“I don’t know. You seemed off earlier.” From the sounds of it, he’s had a few drinks. The touch of concern mixes with his usual tone, making him slightly raspy.

“I just hate your football buddies. You know that.”

Austen sighs. “They aren’t so bad, Cam.” His heavy breath echoes before he continues. “Wish you were here though, so I could actually have some fun,” he murmurs. The haze in his voice is irrefutable. He always says shit like that, and I know he doesn’t mean it the way I want him to.

“Catch you later?” Greyson says quietly, but not quietly enough.

Austen’s tone shifts. “Who is that?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” I answer, shutting off the water.

Greyson walks out of the bathroom, leaving me alone to dry my hands and deal with Austen who seems jealous but definitely isn’t because why would he be?

“Cam?” Austen presses, his voice slightly darker. Pissed off, even.

“What?”

“Who was that?”

“Just a guy from class.”

Austen doesn’t say anything, and it’s shit like this that confuses the hell out of me. He does these small things that make me think he’s jealous, like he cares what I do, but then he does nothing about it. Instead, he goes on about his perfect life and how he’s marrying Savannah and his life is going to be so fucking perfect with their adorable blond babies and white picket fence bullshit. Makes me furious.

“Did you need something? ‘Cause I’m about to head home.” I can’t help the bitterness in my voice. I’ve had too many drinks of my own to be able to hide my annoyance with this entire situation. Not to mention hearing from him minutes after hooking up with a stranger has me feeling guilty, and I fucking hate feeling guilty because I have no reason to. I’m single. Very fucking single. So unlike Austen, who has a fiancée.

“Nope. See you tomorrow.”

“Later,” I say.

“Yeah, later.”

He ends the call. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, completely disappointed with myself… once again.