be beyond humiliated if anyone ever saw it.
Sudden deep laughter from the hallway drew my attention—Cam’s laughter. My head swiveled toward the kitchen. On the stove, the clock read near one in the morning.
I tugged my sleeve down.
“Can’t you skip it Friday night?” a feminine voice asked, slightly muffled through the wall.
There was a pause and then I heard Cam say, “You know I can’t, sweetheart. Maybe next time.”
Sweetheart? Oh! I heard their footsteps round the railing outside the apartment, hitting the stairwell.
Rushing around the couch, I made my way over to the window. Since my apartment was at the end and overlooking the parking lot, all I had to do was wait. And then there they were, a shirtless Cam and a girl.
A really tall, leggy brunette wearing a cute denim skirt. That was all I could make out from the window as they crossed the parking lot. The girl stumbled but caught herself before Cam had to intervene. They stopped behind a dark colored sedan. I felt like a total peeper watching them, but I was riveted.
Cam said something and laughed when the girl playfully shoved his shoulder. A second later, they hugged and then he stepped back, giving her a little wave before turning back to the apartment building. Halfway back, he glanced up toward our floor, and I jumped back like a total idiot. He couldn’t see me. There was no way without any lights on in my apartment.
I laughed at myself and then quieted when I heard a door shut down the hall.
Relief poured into me, easing the muscles that had been tightening on and off. Seeing him with another girl was… good. Totally reaffirmed the fact that Cam was a very charming, harmless flirt who liked to hand out cookies to pretty girls and had a pet tortoise named Raphael. That was good. That was doable. I could handle that because what Brittany and Jacob were suggesting made me itchy and antsy.
Maybe Cam and I would become friends. I was okay with that because it was nice to have more friends like before.
But as I climbed into bed and laid awake, staring at the ceiling, for a moment, a really brief moment, I wondered what it would be like if Cam had been interested in me like that. To have something like that to look forward to. To be giddy and excited whenever he looked at me or when our hands accidentally touched. I wondered what it would be like to be interested in him like that or any guy for that matter. To look forward to dates, to first kisses, and all the things that came after that. I bet it would be nice. It would be like before.
Before Blaine Fitzgerald had taken all of that away.
#
Storm clouds were rolling in Thursday morning and it looked like it would be a rainy, cruddy day on campus. Luckily I only had two classes to sloth through, so before I headed out, I grabbed a hoodie and slipped it over my shirt. I thought about changing out of my shorts and flip flops, but decided I was feeling way too lazy to go to that much trouble.
Texting Jacob to see if he wanted me to pick up any coffee before I hit art class, I slipped out of my apartment and made it to the stairwell before Cam’s apartment door flew open and a guy came out, pulling a shirt down over his head. His shaggy, shoulder length blond head poked through, and I recognized him as the guy with Cam’s tortoise—the roommate.
The moment our eyes met, a big smile broke out across his tan face, exposing a row of ultra white teeth. “Hey! I’ve seen you before.”
My gaze flicked behind him. He’d left the door wide open. “Hey, you are… tortoise guy.”
Confusion flickered across his face as his sandals smacked off the cement. “Tortoise guy? Oh, yeah.” He laughed, the skin crinkling around his brown eyes. “You saw me with Raphael, right?”
I nodded. “And I think you called yourself Señor Fucktard.”
Letting out another loud laugh, he joined me on the stairs. “That’s my drinking name. Most days people know me as Ollie.”
“That sounds much better than Señor Fucktard.” I smiled as we rounded the fourth floor landing. “I’m—”
“Avery.” When my eyes widened, he gave a toothy grin. “Cam told me your name.”
“Oh. So… um, you’re heading to—”
“Yo douchebag, you left the door open!” Cam’s voice boomed down the stairwell and a second later, he appeared at the top of the stairs, the black baseball cap on. A lopsided grin appeared as he spotted us and bounded down the steps. “Hey, what are you doing with my girl?”
My girl? What? I almost tripped over my feet.
“I was explaining to her how I go by two names.”
“Oh yeah?” Cam dropped an arm over my shoulders, and my flip flop snagged in the back of my other one. His arm tightened, pulling me to his side. “Whoa, sweetheart, almost lost you there.”
“Look at you.” Ollie hopped down the steps. “Got the girl tripping all over her feet.”
Cam chuckled as he reached up with his free hand and slid the cap around backward. “I can’t help it. It’s my magnetic charm.”
“Or it could be your smell,” Ollie retorted. “I’m not sure I heard a shower this morning.”
He gasped in mocked outrage. “Do I smell bad, Avery?”
“You smell great,” I murmured, feeling my face heat. It was the truth, though. He smelled wonderful—a mixture of fresh linen, faint cologne, and something else that was probably all him. “I mean, you don’t smell bad.”
Cam watched me for almost a moment too long. “Heading to class?”
We were walking down the steps, but his arm was still around my shoulders and the entire side of my body seemed to tingle like it had fallen asleep. He was so… casual about it. Like it was nothing to him and it probably wasn’t. I remembered how he and the girl had hugged last night, but to me, it was….
There were no words.
“Avery?” Cam’s voice lowered.
I wiggled free, and saw the way Ollie’s grin spread. I headed down the stairs, needing distance. “Yeah, I’m heading to art. What about you guys?”
Cam easily caught up with me on the third floor. “We’re going out to breakfast. You should skip and join us.”
“I think I’ve done enough skipping this week.”
“I’m skipping,” Ollie announced, “but Cam doesn’t have a class until this afternoon, so he’s a good boy.”
“And you’re a bad boy?” I asked.
Ollie’s grin was contagious. “Oh, I’m a bad, bad boy.”
Cam shot his friend a look. “Yeah, as in bad at spelling, math, English, cleaning up after yourself, talking to people, and I could go on.”
“But I’m good at the things that count.”
“And what are those things?” Cam asked as we exited the building. Outside the air carried the faint scent of dampness and the clouds looked plump with water.
Ollie jogged out in front of us and turned so that he was facing us as he walked backward, completely ignoring the red truck trying to back up. He held up a tanned hand and started ticking off his fingers. “Drinking, socializing, snowboarding, and soccer—remember that sport, Cam? Soccer?”
The easy grin slipped off Cam’s face. “Yeah, I remember it, asshole.”
Ollie just laughed and turned, heading toward where the silver truck was parked. I glanced up at Cam, curious. He stared straight ahead, jaw set and eyes like chips of ice. Without looking down at me, he shoved his hands into his jeans and said, “See you around, Avery.”
With