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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Cameron

It’s been a good Monday, which is saying something considering I hate waking up to an alarm, hate having to get ready right when I wake up, and hate long lines at the coffee shop.

Today was great, though. I woke up before my alarm—something that never happens but is attributed to my lazy ass not getting off the couch all day yesterday and falling asleep “for the night” around four in the afternoon.

I was showered before Ari, so I didn’t have to bang on the door to tell her to hurry the hell up and the café’s mobile order is thankfully still on, so I slid past the line, feeling like that meme where the hyenas snarl at the little lioness as she sashays by with a smile.

My professor canceled my first class, so I went to the childcare center early, and all the little ones were in the happiest of moods today. So yeah, it’s been a nearly epic Monday as far as Mondays go.

That should have been my sign the world was not in order and I needed to brace for what the moon had coming.

I hear him before I see him and clench my eyes closed.

“Have you seen Cameron?” he asks, getting right to the point.

Damn it. The way I don’t want to deal with him right now.

Leaning over the pretty pink sink in the Sigma sorority kitchen, I peek out the small window facing the front yard, and sure enough, there he is in all his glory, Ari and Paige standing before him .

I grin when my girls cross their arms, Ari looking away, ignoring him completely, while Paige is too damn poised to be so direct about it.

But she does bring a smile to my face when she hits his ass with the best glare she can muster.

Honestly? “Needs work, girl,” I muse, hopping up a bit to put a knee on the countertop so I can damn near press my ear to the glass to eavesdrop.

“I haven’t.” Paige smiles then; it’s too wide and purposeful, so she flutters her lashes his way, going the only route she knows how when it comes to confrontation—sweet as fucking pie. “But if I do, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.”

Yeah, she will.

She will so I can hide from his ass some more. Cameron and controversy? We don’t mix. We pivot.

“Give it a rest already, Alister the Asshole,” I mutter, not quite feeling the power behind the words this time, especially as I accidently take him in from head to toe and a pout draws to my lips. “But why do you have to be so hot?”

“I was born that way.”

I squeal, lose balance, and fall right into the sink, ass cheek stabbed by the stem of a spatula and sending me jumping forward.

Brady catches me on the edge, his head falling back with laughter, and when he faces forward again, his glossy eyes meet mine. “Cammie Baby,” he purrs, mischief gleaming in his gaze.

“Big guy.” I raise a brow, looking behind him at the barrage of babes waiting to regain his attention. “Having fun?”

“Am now.”

I scoff, then remember what I was doing and swiftly spin my torso, only to find the driveway now empty. I press my lips together, unsure if I’m happy or annoyed.

“Let me guess.” He cuts a quick glance to the window where I have the blinds sneakily open and back. “That little fucker showed up uninvited again?”

“I mean, he is on the football team, and this is technically a party for the football players but yes. Yes, he did.” I sigh, letting my body fall against his big-ass one, and stick my lip out. “I can’t shake him, Brady. I’ve tried and he just…won’t let me.”

Brady’s eyes search mine, a question I can’t read written in his own, though I’m not sure it’s the one he asks. “Do you really want him to? Let you shake him, I mean.”

“Yes.” My answer is fast—maybe too fast—and when that brow of his raises, I groan, covering my face and burying it in his chest. “No. I mean I don’t know,” I mumble against him.

God, I sound pathetic.

Opening my eyes, I meet Brady’s. “Am I having one of those dumb-girl moments?”

“No. He’s just a dipshit.” Brady’s attention snaps over my head, his eyes narrowing and his lips flattening. “But you need to decide what you want to do, ’cause he’s about to walk through the door in five, four, what do you want?”

Panic curls in my belly and I tense up. “I don’t know.”

Brady’s eyes slice to the right, and I hear the front door opening before they then cut back to mine. “Okay, then what do you need?”

“Time.” I swallow.

“Time?” He sets his can down on the counter, standing to his full, massive height.

“Time to figure it all out, I guess.”

Brady nods, slow and several times, his eyes never leaving mine. “I can help you out with that.”

The door closes, and in my peripheral, I see a streak of blond headed right this way. “How?” I rush, my heart rate spiking.

Brady pushes closer, not that there was much more room to go.

I’m literally sitting on the edge of the counter, his body still positioned between my legs from when he caught me.

Still, he manages to get even closer, and when his knuckle presses against my throat, dragging up until he’s hooked me by the chin, my head falls, my long hair tickling my lower back .

Suddenly his eyes fall, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they landed on my mouth.

“Brady?” We’re running out of time.

He swallows, and a small frown builds across my brow. “Trust me?” he whispers.

“Always.”

I get no warning. No explanation. No period to process.

The unthinkable, the utterly unexpected happens, and it happens fast .

Heavy, demanding lips drop to mine, and they waste not a second, coaxing them open with a swift flick of the tongue.

And what a hussy my mouth is, opening wide without a word of protest. Suddenly, my hands are around a thick, strong neck, and hands so massive they reach from belt to bra lock around me.

Our tongues tangle, my fingers jealous of the action and seeking the tips of his hair to do the same thing, but I never make it past the nape.

He’s shoved from the side, but he’s massive and pure muscle. He doesn’t budge an inch—he simply lifts his head, and my eyes are locked on his face, shock setting in at the sight of his swollen lips when he says, “Do you mind?”

Oh my god, those are Brady’s lips. Those are Brady’s lips because this is Brady before me, and they’re swollen from my kiss.

Our kiss.

“What the hell is going on?” This comes from Alister, and the question might be for me, but I’ve got no words. Only thoughts.

Holy shit being the loudest one.

“What’s going on is you interrupted us.” Brady glares, his hands still sealed on my sides. “Now if you don’t mind”— good God almighty, I kissed Brady Lancaster —“I’d like to get back to kissing my girlfriend.”

I can’t believe that just?—

Wait.

What ?

Brady

Wait.

What?

What did I just say?

I look down at Cameron, whose cheeks are flushed and whose gaze is jumping from my lips to my eyes, not a single word coming out of that little mouth of hers.

I’ve rendered the little hellcat speechless, and I kind of want to tease her about it.

“Cameron!”

That snaps me out of it, and I let her go, moving to shield her from his view. “Watch yourself, pretty boy. That tone isn’t gonna fly with me.”

“Oh, fuck you. What the hell is this?” Alister throws his arms out, bending to try to look past me, but I move with him, stepping close.

“Did I not tell you?” I pause. “I just got here, my girl is here, and you’re interrupting our night.”

He glares, standing taller. “She’s not yours.”

“Kind of feels like she is.”

Alister’s fists ball, and he looks toward the living room, no doubt our little exchange having gained some attention. Suddenly, a mocking laugh leaves him. “Right. Okay. Your girl, along with every other girl in here, right?” To prove his point, he looks left again.

My eyes decide to follow, and I fight the frown threatening to take over when my gaze lands on the Sigma sorority girls, each wearing a plain white shirt with a single letter on it.

I saw the post online today. Like always, the game was being broadcast on a large projector in the quad. After the win, the Secret Shark, the person who runs the AU Instagram page, took a shot of the girls all dolled up and in a line, my last name spelled out across their chests.

“You’ve probably slept your way through half of them already, so why don’t you drop the bullshit and move aside? Maybe see if you can knock a couple more off your list tonight.”

Little prick has no idea what he’s talking about, and normally I don’t give a shit what people say—clearly, considering what everyone thinks of me when it comes to women.

So why is a strange heat burning the nape of my neck, and why do my eyes cut to the side, sneaking a look at Cameron to catch her expression?

I don’t fucking know, but the ball of tension that I didn’t realize had formed in my gut untethers at the sight of her wicked glare narrowed in on Alister. Instantly, I relax.

“Nah.” I lift a shoulder, sliding back until my hip is between Cameron’s thighs, and drag her to the counter’s edge. “I’m good. But if you don’t want to see what happens next, I suggest you move along.”

Alister scoffs, eyes narrowed and angry, but then he looks back to Cameron.

Slowly, surely, a smirk slides across his lips. “Yeah, okay.” He chuckles, and I hate the sound.

Annoyance pricks at my skin as I stare at Boy Wonder, wondering what he sees to make him look so…confident.

By the time I look her way, she’s facing the opposite direction, her grip on my forearm growing tighter by the second.

Fuck this guy. He’s making her hide—that’s bullshit.

I hoist her up, and wide blue eyes meet mine before they settle, her legs coming around me.

“Let’s get you out of here,” I whisper for only her to hear, pulling back to make sure that’s what she wants.

Her small smile says it all, and she buries her face in my neck.

Without a second thought or a single look back, I carry her from the house and straight to the bed of my truck. Before her ass meets the cold steel, she starts laughing, and I can’t help but join in.

“Well, that was one way to go about it.” She smiles, pulling her legs up and crossing them beneath her. “But I do feel a little bad.”

“Don’t.” I shrug. “It wasn’t a complete hardship to kiss you, only a small one.”

She smacks me before I’m even done talking and I chuckle, hopping up beside her and tugging my hoodie off, tossing it at her.

Cameron pulls it on, the sleeves dwarfing her hands as she plays with them. “I had sex with him nine days ago, and I’ve ignored him ever since…yet I only feel a little bad for messing with him just now.”

A sharp sting of…something hits my chest, and I face forward to hide the frown it draws.

“He deserves to stress a bit,” I tell her. “You’re a lot to lose, baby girl. He needs to feel that, and chasing after you all this time ain’t the same. He needs the threat of another to really feel it, you know.” That’s how it goes, right? We want what we can’t have?

Her smile is gentle. “So you’re saying it’s a necessary torture?”

“Only if you want it to be.” I hold her gaze, a strange bitterness coating my tongue as I force my next words to leave my mouth. “You can go find him right now and tell him we were fucking with his head the way he did yours, or you can let him sit on it for a night and tell him tomorrow.”

“Why do you sound like you think something’s going to happen tomorrow?”

My grin is slow, and there’s a weight behind it I can’t explain. “Why are you pretending like it’s not? The dude is coming for you. And now he’s going to come harder than before.”

Her eyes narrow, but it’s playful. “I can’t tell if you’re intentionally being dirty or if it’s a natural part of who you are.”

“Silly girl.” I hop down and tug her to her feet. Taking her right hand in mine, I grip her waist with my other hand like some old-school waltz or some shit, swaying her a little. “You know damn well it’s in my DNA. Now hush it and let me dance with my thirty-minute girlfriend a little.”

She laughs, dropping her head back with a grin, and then she lets me twirl her around the grass a bit.

“Hey, Brady,” she whispers, her head falling to my chest when the song ends.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for rescuing me again tonight.”

“Always, Cammie Baby. Always.”