Page 25

Cameron

“ I saw the motorcycle parked outside,” Gael said. “Does it belong to that guy? Can I take a ride with him?”

“Absolutely not,” I said, glancing down the hall to make sure Nate hadn’t heard.

“Aww, why not? If he’s your friend, it should be okay, shouldn’t it? I’ve never ridden on one before.”

“Because you’re freaking eleven years old, Gael. No motorcycles. Do you have homework?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

Gael’s face fell, and he rolled his eyes. “English and math.”

“Well, get to it, buddy.”

“Man,” he grumbled as he trudged to the kitchen table, where he started setting up his books and school-issued laptop.

“Hey, none of that retro video whatever, either,” I said. “Not until all your homework is done. And I’ll be checking on the screen every few minutes. Got it?”

He groaned in response before he flipped the screen open. A moment later, I heard the whoosh of the shower turning on and the faint bang-bang-bang as the hot water rushed through the pipes of the old building. Unbidden, an image leaped into my mind.

Nate, naked and wet, running soap across his rippled abs and the thick muscles of his arms. The bar of soap slipped lower, then lower, then ? —

I shook my head violently. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Are you okay?” Gael asked.

When I turned, he was staring at me with his brows knitted together.

“Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

“Well, you just looked like a dog shaking water off their head. Actually? You look like you’re going crazy.”

It was lovely how kids had no filter whatsoever.

“Gee, thanks,” I said wryly. “I’m fine. I just, uh, have a headache. Trying to get rid of it.”

“By shaking your head? Wouldn’t that make it worse?”

“For God’s sake, Gael! Do your homework,” I snapped.

I got up, heading to my bedroom and digging in my closet until I found a blanket and extra pillow to make a bed on the couch for Nate. Gael watched me carefully as I began making up the couch, and a funny grin crossed his lips.

“He’s staying the night? So, Nate is your new boyfriend? Is that why you’re acting all weird?” His face wrinkled in disgust. “Were you guys about to do it before I got home?”

At his words, another image flashed in my mind’s eye. Nate, nestled between my legs, his tongue buried in my pussy ?—

“No!” I yelled, spinning toward him. “Gross. How do you even know about that stuff?”

He rolled his eyes. “Duh, television. Jeez. Anyway, is he your boyfriend or not? He’s cooler than Rick. I definitely like this guy a lot better.”

“ Gael ,” I said, scandalized. “Don’t say that. Rick and I were, er… are serious.” I didn’t feel like explaining to my little brother that the relationship was over. Better to leave that for later. “Nate is just… just… uh?—”

“And if he’s not your boyfriend, why’s he gonna sleep in our living room?”

How the hell did I explain why a strange man was staying in our apartment? Nate’s warning about telling anyone rang clear in my mind. Whatever was going on was dangerous. I didn’t want my big fat mouth to be the reason Gael or Mom were put in harm’s way.

Thankfully, Nate called from the bathroom at that exact moment. “Hey, Cameron?”

“Yes?”

“You said towels would be in here, but I don’t see any.”

“Should be in the cabinet or hanging on the back of the door,” I answered.

“Nope. All I see is a little purple triangular towel.”

My hair towel. Frowning, I glared at Gael. He’d been the last person to shower last night, and it was his evening chore to put the dirty towels in the washer and restock fresh.

“Did you forget to do something last night?” I asked him pointedly.

Gael made a pained face. “Whoops.”

“Ugh,” I grunted. “Hang on, Nate. I’ll bring one.” I pointed at Gael. “Just for this? You get to do the dishes tonight.”

“But it’s not my turn,” he complained.

“Too bad.”

I found an overflowing laundry basket in the corner of my bedroom. With everything going on, I’d neglected to fold any of the clean stuff in there, and it was threatening to tip over. On the top sat a fresh, clean towel. I grabbed it, then walked across the hall to the bathroom. I knocked twice.

The door opened a moment later, Nate pulling it wide, and I nearly dropped the towel on the floor as my jaw fell open.

He stood, his body shiny and wet, the moisture accentuating every curve of every muscle.

He was wearing nothing and had his leather jacket in his left hand, holding it up to barely cover his crotch in a very minimal attempt at modesty.

My gaze tracked down his body across his six-pack to the twin grooves of the muscles of his midsection that ran diagonally toward his nether regions. Like two highways headed south toward an exciting destination.

“Uh, can I have that?” Nate asked me.

Snapping my eyes up to meet his, I found him looking at me without the slightest hint of embarrassment. If anything, I thought there was a mischievous glint in his eye as he held his hand out for the towel.

“Yeah,” I squeaked, and handed it over.

As soon as he took the towel, he dropped his jacket. The man apparently had no shame whatsoever. I had the briefest and most fleeting glimpse of what lay behind that jacket. Water droplets still running in rivulets toward?—

I whirled around, nearly falling over in my haste to get my eyes off the image of Nate wrapping the towel around his waist. The naughtier parts of my mind screamed at me to turn back and get a really good look, but the more mature and adult part urged me to keep looking away.

Thankfully, the grown-up portion of my brain won out.

As though to punctuate what had already been one of the worst days of my life, I heard the front door open and close, along with Gael’s happy shout.

“Mama!”

Of course Mom would be home early. Why the hell wouldn’t this be the day she got off work more than an hour before she was supposed to?

Now, I had to worry about what she would say about Nate.

I didn’t want her getting the same idea Gael had about the stranger inside our apartment.

What would I do? How would I explain? Even if I said Rick and I had broken up, it didn’t explain Nate being here.

My heart thundered as I went through a dozen different explanations.

The bathroom door opened again, and Nate leaned out, still wearing nothing but the towel and a cocky grin.

“Who’s that? Your mom?” he asked.

Then, from the kitchen, my mother spoke up. “ Mija ? I’m home. Cameron? Where are you?”

Her footsteps neared the hall. Any second, she’d see Nate’s wet hair and pretty face.

Panicking, I shoved him back into the bathroom, throwing myself in after him and kicking the door shut behind me.

Before the door even had time to latch, regret washed over me.

This was possibly the worst idea I could have had.

It would be a thousand times worse for Mom to find me in the bathroom with a naked man than for him to have simply been in here by himself.

“Very forward of you,” Nate said, the deep, rumbly bass of his voice sending a tremor through me. “Trapping me in here when I’m naked like this.”

He placed his hands on the door beside my head, effectively caging me in. The tattoo on his left arm caught my eye. Sets of tally marks running from his wrist up his forearm, four in total.

Twenty? What was the significance of that?

Nate inhaled deeply, pulling my attention away from his tattoo.

He’d leaned in close, his eyes mere inches from mine.

The intimacy of the moment—his breath mingling with mine, the smell of my soap on his skin, and the towel hanging loosely around his waist—sent me into a tailspin of eroticism. This was not real life. It couldn’t be.

I knew I should shove him away, but a mysterious part of me enjoyed this.

Actually, I liked having him right on top of me.

My nipples ached. A steady, warm pulse throbbed between my legs, and as I looked down at the towel, only a few seconds away from slipping off him, I grew wet and rubbed my legs together, enjoying the friction.

What the fuck was wrong with me? Why did it fill me with so much contentment to be in this man’s presence? I barely even knew him.

The towel slid another quarter inch, and I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly very dry.

Nate lowered his head, catching my eye again, and I felt like a fish who’d just had a hook sunk deep into her lip.

The look in those deep gray eyes sent an involuntary shudder of desire through me.

Nate’s gaze bounced from my eyes down to my lips.

For a single second, every square inch of my body screamed at me to close the distance and kiss him.

To lunge forward and shove my tongue down his throat while his hands roved across my body, to yank the towel off him, sink to my knees, and take his?—

Nate touched a stray curl, ripping my thoughts away from the erotic movie playing in my mind. I shivered, desire and need flooding through me.

“Why do I affect you like this?” Nate whispered, leaning even closer, his lips a hair’s breadth from mine.

The flirtation in his voice, like he was speaking to a lover, should have sent me running.

I never liked it when men assumed too much and tried too hard.

For some reason, though, Nate had the opposite effect on me.

If I were being honest with myself, I loved every minute of it.

I forgot all about the breakup drama and even the attack.

The only thing in the whole world that mattered was this moment with this man in this room.

Everything else seemed surreal and unimportant.

“What do you mean?” I whispered back, aching to feel his lips on mine.

“You know what I mean,” he murmured, releasing my hair. He ran a finger across my collarbone, and my eyes almost rolled back in my head at the touch. “And how are you tempting me like this? No other woman has this effect on me.”