Текст книги "Wait for You"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

“That scribbly line is between the Delta and Gamma.” He leaned over, connecting two of the dots. “Here is the Theta and this is the Alpha—brightest star. See, we are halfway done.”

I frowned as I glanced up, tracing the pattern of the stars in the sky. Hell, he was getting it right. Then he leaned in again, his shoulder pressing into mine as he drew a perfect line to another dot on the map. I bit down on my lip as he continued to finish the map without looking up once or at the star map. I was acutely aware of how warm his arm felt even through the two layers of clothing. The warmth from the contact spread up my shoulder and across my chest, kicking my pulse up.

He turned his head toward me. “Now we’re done mapping stars.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Our faces were inches apart and he was way too close. My gaze fell to his lips. They were tipped up on one side and that dimple started to appear in his left cheek. His lips started moving, but I didn’t hear a word he was saying. I wanted to move away, but I… I didn’t want to. Confusion swept through my body as I struggled not to shy away… and not to move closer. It was like being caught between two opposite magnets.

Maybe I should stop staring at his lips.

Sounded like a good plan, because staring at a guy’s lips was kind of creepy, so I forced my gaze up. Oh boy, wrong move, because now I was staring into those panty-dropping eyes as Jacob referred to them earlier when he texted. And Jacob had been right. I bet there was a legion of discarded panties in the wake of wherever Cam went. It should be illegal for a boy to have lashes as thick as his. Even in the darkness, his eyes were the shade of denim. The somewhat tolerable warmth turned into near unbearable heat as it sped through my veins.

I squirmed again, unable to remember feeling like this in a long time. At least not since the Halloween party. Maybe before. Definitely before. There was just something about Cam that sort of made me forget everything except what was happening that very moment. Sounded normal. I liked it for the most part.

“Are you listening to me?”

I blinked slowly. “Huh? Yes! Yes. Totally.”

His grin turned knowing, and I wanted to crawl under a prickly bush. “Yeah… so, you haven’t been on a date?”

“What?”

Cam chuckled softly. “You really haven’t been listening to me at all. You’ve been too busy staring at me.”

“I have not!” My entire face burned with that little fib and I hastily focused on where the couple had been. They were gone now.

He nudged my shoulder. “Yes, you were.”

I screwed up my face. “You are so beyond the acceptable level of arrogance.”

“Arrogant? I’m just stating the truth.”  Cam tossed his notebook on the ground and leaned back on his elbows, eyeing me through his lowered lashes. That damn, insufferable lopsided grin was on his face. “There’s nothing wrong with staring at me. I like it.”

My mouth dropped open. How in the world was I supposed to respond to that? “I wasn’t staring at you. Not really. I sort of… dazed out. That’s how thrilling talking to you is.”

“Everything about me is thrilling,” he replied.

“About as thrilling as watching your tortoise cross a road.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

“Keep calling me sweetheart and you’re going to be limping.”

Cam’s eyes widened. “Oh, listen to you.”

“Whatever.”

“We should do it.”

My mind went straight to where it shouldn’t have gone and my skin started to prickle. “Do what? Go home? I’m all about going home, like right now.”

“Go on a date.”

Obviously I missed an important part in this conversation. I closed my notebook and reached around, grabbing my bag. “I’m not sure I’m following this conversation.”

“It’s really not that complicated.” He laughed when I shot him a look. “We should go out on a date.”

My stomach dropped as I looked back at him. He looked so content, half sprawled on the ground. Was he joking? Was he high? I shoved my notebook into my bag, along with my pen. “I don’t understand.”

Cam laid back and stretched his arms above his head, causing his shirt to ride up and expose a slice of tan skin and two indents on either side of his hips… dear God. I looked away and took a huge gulp of air.

“Typically going on a date is when two people go out for the evening or sometimes during the day. Really, it can be any time of the day or night. It usually involves dinner. Sometimes a movie or a walk in the park. Though, I don’t do walks in the park. Maybe on a beach, but since there aren’t any—”

“I know what a date is,” I snapped, shoving to my feet.

He remained on the ground and he didn’t look like he was moving anytime soon. I should’ve taken my own car. “You said you didn’t understand,” he pointed out gamely. “So I’m explaining what a date means.”

Frustrated… and reluctantly amused, I crossed my arms. “That’s not the part I don’t understand and you know that.”

“I was just making sure we were on the same page.”

“We’re not.”

Cam lowered his arms, but there was sill a gap between his shirt and jeans. Was he wearing underwear? All I saw was a leather belt and jeans. Okay. I didn’t need to start thinking about that. “So now that we both know what a date entails, we should go out on one,” he said.

“Uh…”

Cam laughed as he sat up in one fluid moment. “That’s not really a response, Avery.”

“I…” A date? A date with Cameron Hamilton? Two things rose at once: unease and interest. I took a step back, putting distance between me and him and everything else. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

His brows shot up in surprise and he laughed. “A girlfriend? No.”

“Then who was that brunette stumbling out of your apartment Wednesday night?” I asked.

Cam’s grin spread into a wide smile. “Have you’ve been watching me, Avery?”

“No. No! What? I wasn’t watching you. I do have a life.”

He arched a brow. “Then how do you know about Stephanie?”

“That’s her name?”

“Well, yes, she has a name and no, she’s not my girlfriend.” He cocked his head to the side as he stared up at me. “And she wasn’t stumbling. Maybe shuffling.”

I rolled my eyes.

“So how did you see her if you weren’t watching me?” he asked as he crossed his ankles. “And I don’t mind the idea of you watching me. Remember, I like that.”

I forced myself to take a deep, slow breath before I walked up and kicked him in the leg. “I wasn’t watching you. I couldn’t sleep and I was staring out my living room window. I just happened to see you walking her out to her car.”

“Well, that makes sense. Not nearly as entertaining as you standing by your window hoping to catch a glimpse of me.”

All I could do was stare at him.

He winked, and damn, if he didn’t look good doing it. “Steph’s not my girlfriend by the way. We aren’t like that.”

Which meant they were most likely hooking up and there was nothing wrong with that. And maybe that was what he wanted from me with this whole date thing. Jacob would be thrilled to hear that. Mental note to self: so not telling him about this. “I’m not like that.”

“Like what?” he asked.

So he was going to make me spell it out. Of course. Why not? “I’m not like her.”

“Do you know her?”

My eyes narrowed. “I don’t just hook up with guys for fun, okay? I don’t see anything wrong with it. Totally not judging here, but that’s not me. So I’m not interested. Sorry.”

“Wait a sec. I’m confused. You’re not judging her, but you’ve made the assumption that she’s into random hook ups? That’s she’s my fuck buddy? Isn’t that kind of making a rash judgment based on assumptions?”

Damn it, he had a point. “You’re right. I don’t know if that’s what you guys are about. Maybe you’re just childhood buddies or something.”

“We’re not.” That mischievous grin was back. “We hook up every once in a while.”

I gaped at him. “I was right! Then why did you accuse me of being judgmental?”

“I was just pointing it out,” he replied, eyes twinkling like those damn stars in the sky. “And for the record, we didn’t hook up Wednesday night. Not for the lack of trying on her part, but I wasn’t feeling it.”

I remembered how the girl had looked and I wondered what red-blooded male wouldn’t have been feeling that. “Whatever. This is a stupid conversation.”

“I like this conversation.”

Shaking my head, I bent and reached for my bag, but Cam shot to his feet and grabbed it before I could get my fingers around the strap. I sighed as I held out my hand. “Give it to me.”

“I’m trying to.”

I shot him a disgusted look.

Chuckling, he stepped forward and laid the strap over my shoulder. His fingers brushed my neck, and I couldn’t stop my body from jumping at the slight touch. He stepped back and picked up the flashlight. “See? I was just being a gentleman.”

“I don’t think you’re a gentleman,” I grumbled as my fingers tightened around the strap. “But thank you.”

He swiped his notebook off the ground and we headed back to where his truck was parked, passing the now empty bench. He shone the flashlight when we hit the field, lightning our path.  I guess to prove me wrong, he opened the door for me when we stopped in front of his truck. “Milady.”

“Thank you,” I said, a little more appreciative sounding than before.

Instead of closing the door, Cam leaned against the frame and placed a hand on the edge of the open door. “So, what about it?”

“What about what?”

He eyed me with the same intense interest he had earlier. “Go out on a date with me.”

I stiffened. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.” Yanking the strap on the seatbelt, I busied myself with securing it. My hands were shaking, so I kept missing the latch.

“What kind of question was that? How am I—hey, it’s just a seatbelt. Not that hard.” He leaned over, taking control. His hands brushed over mine, and I jerked back against the seat. He paused and looked at me, those lips usually tilted up, started to tip down at the corners. Something flared in his eyes. I don’t know what it was, but it was gone as he snapped the seatbelt in place. He didn’t move back, though. “Why shouldn’t we go out on a date?”

I strained back against the seat, my hands curling into fists in my lap. It wasn’t that I was that uncomfortable with him being so close. It was that I was uncomfortable with the way I noticed every slight touch of skin or look. “Because… because we don’t know each other.”

His lips tipped up again. I decided I liked them like that over the frownie face. “That’s what a date is all about. Getting to know each other.” Cam’s eyes dropped to my mouth. “Go out on a date with me.”

“There’s nothing to know about me.” The words came out in a heady whisper as my chest rose sharply.

He tilted to his head to the side. “I’m sure there is tons to know about you.”

“There’s not.”

“Then we can spend the time with me talking.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it will be more thrilling than watching Raphael cross a road.”

“Ha.”

He grinned. “Thought you’d like that.”

I felt the side pocket of my bag vibrate against my leg once. A text message? Probably from Jacob. I wanted to reach for it, but I would end up smacking my head off Cam’s. Not something I wanted to repeat. “Can we go yet?”

“Can we go on a date?”

“Good God, you don’t give up.”

“Nope.”

I laughed, couldn’t help it, and his smile spread in response to the sound. “I’m sure there are plenty of girls who want to go out on a date with you.”

“There are.”

“Wow. Modest aren’t you?”

“Why should I be?” he shot back. “And I want to go out on a date with you. Not them.”

“I don’t understand why.”

His dark brows rose. “I can think of a few reasons. You’re not like most girls. That interests me. You’re awkward in this really… adorable way. You’re smart. Want me to list more?”

“No. Not at all,” I told him quickly. I needed to nip this in the bud. Reputation aside, he was a hell of a lot more than I could ever hope to handle. He would expect things I couldn’t give him. Holding a conversation with him was difficult enough sometimes. “I don’t want to go out on a date with you.”

Cam didn’t look surprised by my response or undaunted. “I figured you’d say that.”

“Then why did you ask?”

He finally—thank God—backed away and gripped the side of the door. “Because I wanted to.”

“Oh. Well. Okay. Glad you got it out of your system.”

His brows knitted. “I haven’t gotten it out of my system.”

Oh no. “You haven’t?”

“Nope.” He flashed a charming grin. “There’s always tomorrow.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“I’ll ask you again.”

I shook my head. “The answer will be the same.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He reached out and tapped the tip of my nose. “And maybe you’ll say yes. I’m a patient guy, and hey, like you said, I don’t give up easily.”

“Great,” I muttered, but…oh, oh man, there was an unfamiliar stirring in my chest.

“Knew you’d see it that way.” Cam tweaked the tip of my nose, and I swatted his hand away. “Don’t worry. I know the truth.”

“The truth about what?”

Cam stepped back. “You want to say yes, but you’re just not ready.”

My jaw dropped.

“It’s okay.” His grin turned cocky. “I’m a lot to handle, but I can assure you, you’ll have fun handling me.”

Then before I could muster up a response worthy of that statement, he tapped my nose once more and then shut the door in my face.

#

Back in my apartment, I dropped my bag on the couch and collapsed next to it. Go out on a date with Cameron? Was he insane? He had to be joking or just flirting. On the ride home, he hadn’t mentioned it again, instead he spent the time drilling me about my schedule. Question by question, he dragged out every detail about the classes I was taking. By the time we’d got back to the building, I was exhausted.

Leaning my head back against the cushion, I closed my eyes. My heart was beating pretty fast for just sitting down. Was he being serious about not hooking up with Stephanie on Wednesday? Seemed odd to me that he hadn’t if she really had been all over him.

Honestly, it didn’t matter.

I couldn’t do a relationship of any sorts. Maybe one day. Hopefully one day, because I didn’t want to be like this for the rest of my life. Eventually I wanted to be the girl who got excited about being asked out on a date instead of the girl who came home and did this.

Opening my eyes, I groaned. “I’m Señor Fucktard. Or Señorita Fucktard.”

I pushed to my feet and started halfway to the bedroom before I remembered my vibrating bag. “Shit.”

Hurrying back to the couch, I reached into the side pocket and pulled out my cell. I tapped the screen, fully expecting to see a text from Jacob or Brittany pop up. Instead I saw a missed call and voicemail.

“What the hell?”

I ran my fingers along the side and figured out I’d knocked the damn thing to silent. Sliding my figure along the screen, I unlocked it and saw that the call was from an UNKNOWN CALLER.

My heart skipped a beat.

No big deal. Probably a wrong call or a telemarketer. I went to the voicemail page and my finger hovered over the delete button. The past raised its ugly, bitter head. How many times did I get a prank call from people blocking their number? Too many to count, but that couldn’t be it. My number was new, like my email….

I cursed again.

 Taking a deep breath, I hit the message and raised it to my ear. There was a pause and then a gravelly, indistinguishable voice crackled through the phone. “You know what happens to liars and skanks? They get a big, fat—”

Crying out, I hit the delete button before I could hear anything more. I dropped the phone on the couch instead of tossing it against the wall and backed up like it was some kind of venomous creatures perched on the cushions.

Any method of communication could become poisonous. Didn’t I already know that firsthand? A strangled laugh escaped me. Really, did they have nothing better to do? It had been five years. Five years! They couldn’t let go of the past.

Just like deep down, neither could I.

Chapter 7

I jerked straight up in bed, confused and disorientated. It was damn near close to four am when I’d finally fallen asleep and I had no idea what woke me. I twisted in bed, groaning when I saw that it was only eight in the morning.

On a Sunday.

Flopping onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling. Once I was awake, there was no hope of ever—

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I sat up again, frowning. Someone was banging on a door—my door. What the hell? Throwing off the covers, I swung my legs off the bed. My toe caught on the sheet and I nearly ate the carpet.

“Holy crap.”

Cursing, I raced through the apartment before the entire building was woken up. I stretched up, peering through the peep hole. All I could see was a mass of wavy dark hair. Cam?

Something had to be wrong. Maybe the building was on fire, because I couldn’t think of any other reason to why he’d be banging on my door Sunday morning.

“Is everything okay?” I winced at the sound of my voice.

Cam spun around. A crooked smile appeared, taking his already extraordinary face and making it boyishly sexy.  “No, but it will be in about fifteen minutes.”

“W-w-what?” I stepped aside or was forced aside as he entered my apartment, carrying something wrapped in tinfoil, a carton of eggs—huh?—and a tiny frying pan. “Cam, what are you doing? It’s eight in the morning.”

“Thanks for the update on the time.” He headed straight for my kitchen. “It’s one thing I’ve never been able to master: the telling of time.”

I frowned as padded after him. “Why are you here?”

“Making breakfast.”

“You can’t do that in your own kitchen?” I ask, scrubbing at my eyes. After the astronomy assignment and the phone call, he was the last person I wanted to see at a buttcrack time in the morning.

“My kitchen isn’t as exciting as yours.” He put his stuff on the counter and faced me. His hair was damp and curlier than normal. How was it possible for him to look so good when it was obvious he’d just rolled out of bed and showered? There wasn’t even a dusting of morning scruff on his smooth cheeks. And he made sweats and a plain old tee shirt look damn good.  “And Ollie is passed out on the living room floor.”

“On the floor?”

“Yep. Face down, snoring and drooling a little. It’s not an appetizing atmosphere.”

“Well, neither is my apartment.” He needed to go. He had no business being here.

Cam leaned against my counter, folding his arms. “Oh, I don’t know about that…” His gaze moved from the top of my disheveled head and all the way down to the tips of my curled toes. It was like a physical touch, causing my breath to catch. “Your kitchen, right this second, is very appetizing.”

A flush crawled across my cheeks. “I’m not going out with you, Cam.”

“I didn’t ask you at this moment, now did I?” One side of his lips curved up. “But you will eventually.”

My eyes narrowed. “You’re delusional.”

“I’m determined.”

“More like annoying.”

“Most would say amazing.”

I rolled my eyes. “Only in your head.”

“In many heads is what you meant,” he replied, turning back to my stove. “I also brought banana nut bread baked in my very own oven.”

Shaking my head, I glared at his back. “I’m allergic to bananas.”

Cam spun around, brows raised in disbelief. “Are you shitting me?”

“No. I’m not. I’m allergic to bananas.”

“Man, that’s a damn shame. You have no idea what you’re missing out on. Bananas make the world a better place.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Anything else you’re allergic to?”

“Besides penicillin and guys who bust up into my apartment? No.”

“Hardy-har-har,” he replied, dipping down as he started opening cabinets. “How many weaker, less assured guys have you slayed with that tongue of yours?”

“Apparently not enough,” I muttered. I went to adjust my bracelet and realized I wasn’t wearing it. My heart dropped. “I’ll be right back.”

Humming to himself, Cam nodded. I darted back to my bedroom and grabbed the bracelet off the nightstand and slipped it on. A shudder of relief went through me. Halfway out of the bedroom, I glanced down and cursed again.

No bra.

The thin material of my shirt stretch taut across my chest and my nipples were poking out, saying hello. “Oh, Jesus.”

Tossing the shirt off, I grabbed a sports bra out of my dresser.

“Hey! Are you hiding back there?” yelled Cam. “Because I will come back there and drag you out.”

Sports bra stuck around my head and breasts bouncing everywhere, I blanched. I yanked it down, smushing my right boob. Ow! “Don’t you dare come in here!”

“Then hurry up. My eggs wait for no one.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered, pulling my shirt back on. I made it to the hallway before I then realized I also hadn’t brushed my teeth. Cam and his eggs were going to have to wait.

When I returned to the kitchen, he had several eggs boiling in water, and a perfect sunny side up egg in the little frying pan he’d brought. He’d found the bag of shredded cheese in my fridge and was sprinkling it across the eggs.

Seeing him in my kitchen, at my stove unnerved me. Knots formed low in my belly as he easily found the plates and silverware. I crossed my arms, shuffling from side to side. “Cam, why are you over here?”

“I already told you.” He slid the eggs onto a plate and then walked them over to the bistro set butted up to the wall. “Do you want toast? Wait. Do you have bread? If not, I can—”

“No. I don’t need toast.” He’d taken complete control of my kitchen! “Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“There are a shit ton of people that I could reward with my presence, but I chose you.”

This had to be the most bizarre morning ever. I watched him a moment longer. Giving up on getting him out of my apartment, I sat in the high-rise chair, tucking my legs against my chest. I picked up a fork. “Thanks.”

“I choose to believe that you mean that.”

“I do!”

He flashed a quick grin. “I doubt that for some reason.”

Now I felt like a total bitch. “I do appreciate the eggs. I’m just surprised to see you here… at eight in the morning.”

“Well, to be honest, I was planning to woo you with my banana nut bread, but that shit ain’t happening now. So all I have left is my delicious eggs.”

I took a bite of the cheesy goodness. “It is really good, but you’re not wooing me.”

“Oh, I’m wooing.” He opened up the fridge and grabbed a bottle of OJ. Pouring two glasses, he sat one in front of me. “It’s just all about the stealth. You don’t realize it yet.”

Dropping that no win conversation, I moved on. “Aren’t you eating?”

“I am. I like boiled eggs.” Cam gestured to the stove as he sat in the chair opposite of mine. He popped his chin on his fist, and I focused on my plate. The bastard looked too adorable and cute. “So, Avery Morgansten, I’m all yours.”

I almost choked on the piece of egg. “I don’t want you.”

“Too bad,” he replied, grinning. “Tell me about yourself.”

Oh hell to the no, the bonding shit wasn’t happening. “Do you do this often? Just walk into random girls’ apartments and make eggs?”

“Well, you’re not random, so technically no.” He got up and checked the eggs boiling. “And I might be known to surprise lucky ladies every now and then.”

“Seriously? I mean, you do this normally?”

Cam glanced over his shoulder at me. “With friends, yes, and we’re friends, aren’t we, Avery?”

My mouth opened. Were we friends? I guessed so, but still. Was this normal? Or was Cam just that confident? He did things like this, because he knew he could, that no one would really make him leave. Most people probably wouldn’t want him to leave. And I could’ve made him get the hell out if I’d really wanted to and that was the truth. Cam was the kind of guy who was probably used to getting what he wanted.

Just like Blaine.

That thought turned the eggs in my stomach and I placed my fork down. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Finally!” he shouted, making me jump a little. “You’ve finally admitted that we’ve friends. It’s only taken a week.”

“We’ve only known each other for a week.”

“Still took a week,” he replied, poking at the eggs in the water.

I pushed the last remaining chunk of eggs around my plate. “What? Does it normally take you just an hour to have someone declaring best friends forever?”

“No.” He pulled out the eggs, dropping them in a bowl. Coming to the table, he sat again. His eyes met mine, and it was hard to maintain that stare. Those eyes really were a beautiful shade of azure, sharp and clear. The kind of eyes you could easily get lost staring into. “It usually takes me about five minutes before we’ve moved onto best friend status.”

A smile snuck out as I shook my head. “Then I guess I’m just the odd one.”

“Maybe.” His lashes lowered as he started peeling his boiled egg.

I took a drink. “I guess it’s different for you.”

“Hmm?”

“I bet you have girls hanging all over you. Dozens would probably kill to be in my spot and here I am, allergic to your bread.”

He looked up. “Why? Because of my near godlike perfection?”

A laugh burst from me. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Cam chuckled and then shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t really think about it.”

“You don’t think about it at all?”

“Nope.” He popped a whole, freaking egg into his mouth. Besides that, he had impeccable table manners. Chewing with his mouth closed, wiping his hands on the napkin he’d pulled from the holder, and not talking with his mouth full. “I only think about it when it matters.”

Our gazes collided, and my cheeks flushed. I ran my finger along the rim of my glass. “So you’re a reformed player?”

He paused, egg halfway to his mouth. “What makes you think that?”

“I heard you were quite the player in high school.”

“Really? Who did you hear that from?”

“None of your business.”

A brow arched. “With that mouth of yours, you don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”

I flinched, because that was a spot-on observation. “No,” I heard myself saying. “I wasn’t really popular in high school.”

Cam dropped his egg on the plate and sat back. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was an asshole thing for me to say.”

I waved it off, but it stung

He watched me through thick lashes. “Hard to believe though that you weren’t. You can be funny and nice when you’re not insulting me and you’re a pretty girl. Actually, you’re really hot.”

“Ah… thanks.” I squirmed, holding my glass close.

“I’m serious. You said your parents were strict. They didn’t let you hang out in high school?” When I nodded, he finished off the egg he’d dropped. “I still can’t imagine you not being popular in high school. You rock the trifietca—smart, funny, and hot.”

“I wasn’t. Okay?” I set my glass down and moved on to tugging at a loose string on the hem of my shorts.  “I was like the very opposite of popular.”

Cam started peeling another egg. Wondered how many he’d eat. “I am sorry, Avery. That… that sucks. High school is a big deal.”

“Yeah, it is.” I wetted my lips nervously. “You had a lot of friends?”

He nodded.

“Still talk to them?”

“Some of them. Ollie and I went to high school together, but he spent his first two years at WVU and transferred down here and I see a few around campus and back home.”

Wrapping my arms around my legs to keep from fidgeting, I rested my chin on my knees. “Have any brothers or sisters?”

“A sister,” he replied, picking up the last egg—the fourth one. A genuine smile appeared. “She’s younger than me. Just turned eighteen. She graduates this year.”

“You guys close?” I couldn’t imagine having a brother like Cam.

“Yeah, we’re close.” A dark look crossed his face and vanished quickly, but it left me wondering if they really were that close. “She means a lot to me. How about you? A big brother I have to worry about visiting and kicking my ass for being here?”

“No. I’m an only child. Have a cousin who’s older, but I doubt he’d do that.”

“Ah, good.” Devouring that egg, he sat back and patted his stomach. “Where you from?”

I pressed my lips together, trying to decide if I should lie or not.

“Okay.” He dropped his arm off the back of the metal chair. “You obviously know where I’m from if you’ve heard of my extracurricular actives in high school, but I’ll just confirm it. I’m from the Fort Hill area. Never heard of that? Well, most people haven’t. It’s near Morgantown. Why didn’t I go to WVU? Everyone wants to know that.” He shrugged. “Just wanted to get away, but be somewhat close to my family. And yes, I was… very busy in high school.”

“You’re not anymore?” I asked, not really expecting him to answer, because it wasn’t my business, but hey, if I could keep him talking, I didn’t have to say anything.

And I was… interested in learning more, because Cam, he was fascinating in a way. He was like every uber-popular, sexy guy in high school, but he wasn’t a dick. That alone made him worthy of a scientific study. Also, it was better than sitting around alone and thinking about harassing phone calls and emails.

“Depends on who you ask.” He laughed then. “Yeah, I don’t know. When I was a freshman—those first couple of months, being around all the older girls? I probably put more effort into them than I did my classes.”

I grinned, easily able to picture that. “But not now?”

He shook his head. “So where you from?”

Okay. Obviously what changed his ex-player status was something he didn’t want to talk about. Visions of pregnancy scares danced in my head. “I’m from Texas.”

“Texas?” He leaned forward. “Really? You don’t have an accent.”

“I wasn’t born in Texas. My family was originally from Ohio. We moved to Texas when I was eleven and I never picked up any accent.”

“Texas to West Virginia? That’s a hell of a difference.”

Unfolding my legs, I stood and picked up my plate and his bowl. “Well, I lived in the strip mall hell part of Texas, but besides that, it’s kind of the same here.”

“I should clean up.” He started to stand. “I made the mess.”

“No.” I backed away with his bowl. “You cooked. I clean.”

He relented, opening the foiled bread. It did smell wonderful. “What made you choose here?”

I washed the dishes and his little frying pan before answering that doozy. “I just wanted to get away, like you.”

“Got to be hard though.”

“No.” I picked up the pot he used to boil the eggs. “It was incredibly easy to make the decision.”

He seemed to consider that as he broke the bread in half. “You are an enigma, Avery Morgansten.”

I leaned against the counter, my eyes widening and he proceeded to eat half of the loaf. “Not really. More like you are.”

“How so?”