Wait for You, стр. 19
That was his only warning.
Wrapping an arm around my waist, he dipped and lifted me off my feet, laying me over his shoulder. I shrieked again, but it was lost in his laugh.
“You were running too slow,” he yelled over the rain.
I gripped the back of his hoodie. “Put me down, you son of a—”
“Hold on!” Laughing, he took off for the door, his arm clamped across my hips, holding me in place.
A couple of times he slipped in the puddles forming, and my heart dropped. I could easily see my skull cracking wide open. Each step jolted through me, causing little grunts to escape in-between my continuous threats to do him bodily harm.
He ignored them or just laughed.
Cam skidded to a stop and threw open the door. Ducking down, he entered the dry, slightly warmer landing above the stairwell. Still laughing his head off, he gripped my hips. I was prepared to lay into him the moment he let go, but as he lowered me to my feet, my body slid down his, inch by inch. It must’ve been our wet clothing, because the friction that occurred caused the air to punch from my lungs.
His hands were still on my hips, the touch searing through my jeans. And he stared down at me, the hue of his eyes darkening into a deep, intense blue that was as consuming as it was shattering. Those perfectly formed lips of his parted and his warm breath, slightly minty
My entire front was pressed against his. Sensation exploded in various parts of my body; deep in my stomach, my muscles coiled, the tips of my breasts tightened, and my thighs tingled. My hands were pressed to his chest and I wasn’t sure how that happened. I hadn’t remembered putting them there, but they were, and his heart pounded under my palm, a steady thump that matched my own.
One hand slid up my side, leaving behind an unfamiliar, heady rush of shivers. I gasped as his fingers trailed across my cheek, brushing the wet strands of hair back behind my ear.
“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice deeper than normal.
Mouth dry, I swallowed. “So are you.”
His hand lingered, fingers splayed so that his thumb was against my cheek. He made tiny, idle circles on my skin. “I guess we’re going to have to try this another night.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, fighting the urge to close my eyes and lean into his touch.
“Maybe we should’ve checked the weather first,” Cam said, and I had to smile at that.
Then he shifted just a fraction of an inch. A slight movement that somehow brought us even closer together, hip to hip. A shudder rocked its way down my spine. The awareness of my body and his, all of it was overwhelming. I was responding to him in an instinctual way, in a manner I was wholly unaccustomed to.
My body knew what to do, what it wanted, even though my brain was firing off so many warnings I felt like Homeland Security during a Code Red.
I jerked back, breaking contact. My breath was coming in and out in short bursts as I kept backing up, hitting the wall behind me. Soaked, cold clothing and I was too hot. Burning up. My voice sounded unfamiliar when I spoke. “I think we… we should call it a night.”
Cam leaned back, resting his head against the opposite wall, legs spread slightly apart. Everything about him looked tensed and strained. “Yeah, we should.”
Neither of us moved for a full minute, and then we did, quiet as we made our way back down and out to his truck. Whatever had passed between us lingered in terse silence and by the time we arrived back at our apartment building, anxiety had built in the pit of my stomach, erasing the few moments back in the stairwell, when I’d been nothing but sensation instead of thinking.
Muscles tense, I climbed out of his truck and raced under the awning of our building. Cam was beside me, shaking the rain out of his hair. I hovered at the bottom of the stairs, fingers twisting around my keys. I needed to say something. I needed to somehow make all of this go away, because I didn’t want our friendship to be strained or for it change.
It struck me then and a horrible twisty motion occurred it my stomach.
I didn’t want to lose Cam.
Over the last month and weeks, he’d become an intricate part of my life, weaving himself into my every day that if things were to change…
But I didn’t know what to say, because I didn’t know what had happened back in the stairwell. My heart pounded at a sickening rate as he took one step and then stopped, turning to me.
“Go out with me,” he asked, running a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face.
“No,” I whispered.
And then the dimple appeared in his cheek, and I let out the breath I was holding. He started up the steps. “There’s always tomorrow.”
I followed him. “Tomorrow’s not going to change anything.”
“We’ll see.”
“There’s nothing to see. You’re wasting your time.”
“When it concerns you, it’s never a waste of my time,” he replied.
Since his back was to me, he didn’t see my smile. I relaxed. I warmed up. Things were normal again and with Cam, everything would be okay.
Chapter 10
Twenty-five emails from my cousin, ranging from the end of August, straight up till October 14th.
That was absolutely ridiculous.
I’d waited until after mid-terms before subjecting myself to unnecessary what the fuckery that was sure to occur from opening any of these. Part of me just wanted to delete them. What was the point in reading the emails? Same shit different day.
But I leaned back in my desk chair, exhaling loudly and obnoxiously.
I told myself I’d read them Monday. Didn’t do it. Told myself I’d read them Tuesday. Nope, didn’t happen. Now it was Wednesday, six in the Godforsaken morning, and I’d been staring at my inbox for thirty minutes.
David had been Blaine’s age at the time everything had gone down. He’d been three years older than me—seventeen. He’d been friends with Blaine, but hadn’t been at the party. After everything had happened—the truth, the deal between the parents, and the subsequent lies and nonstop shit storm that had become my life, David knew about the settlement, but had believed what everyone else had.
That I had a mad case of buyer’s remorse.
But David had stopped being friends with Blaine, because to my cousin, whether or not I’d been telling the truth in the beginning, it hadn’t mattered. The whole thing had just been nasty to David. Hadn’t made him one bit sympathetic to me for the past five years.
Scrolling down to the first unread email dated back at the end of August. I shook my head and clicked it open. Same as the one I had read before. I needed to call him or my parents. Immediately. I rolled my eyes. Couldn’t have been that important, because you’d think one of them would’ve picked up the phone and called me if it had been.
That was my family, though. Every one of them felt as if they should not have to pick up the phone. They were too busy for that, too important. Even my cousin, who apparently had a shit ton of time to send emails.
I deleted that one.
On to the next one.
Same stuff, but there were a couple of more sentences. Something to do with a girl from high school. Molly Simmons. She’d been a year younger than me and of course I hadn’t been friends with the chick. I couldn’t even remember what she looked like. David needed to talk to me about her. Was he, like, dating the chick and getting married? If so, I was surprised that he’d even let me know.
That’s one wedding I probably would not be attending.
I deleted that email and was about to move on to the next one when my cell chirped. Dropping my feet onto the floor, I picked it up. It was a text from Brittany, wanting to know if I’d meet her for coffee before my astronomy class. I sent a quick text back, saying yes.