Camile
Wait, what?
I shake my fuzzy head. I’d thought Leo had become so overwhelmed by passion that he’d had to kiss me, but it sounds like he’s just trying to get rid of me by giving me what he thinks I want. My lower lip wobbles and I latch my teeth onto it before he can notice. The last thing I need is to let him see he’s hurt me. But did he really not feel what I did? That kiss meant something, and now he’s trying to tell me it was a tool in his cruel arsenal?
I straighten my back and pull myself together. It doesn’t matter what Leo says or does or why he seems to dislike me so much. All that matters is keeping my dignity—something he’s made nearly impossible.
Nearly.
With more sass than I feel, I toss my curled hair over my shoulder and cock my head. “I’m not going anywhere. I still haven’t had the mind-blowing kiss I came for.”
His jaw drops. Good. I don’t wait around to see what he’ll say next. Instead, I hurry around the side of the house and back to the party, blinking away tears.
“Hey.” Tony’s brow furrows with concern as I reach him. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I sniff.
He tucks me under his arm and looks back the way I came, where Leo is emerging from around the corner. “Did he say something to you?”
I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it, but thanks for worrying. I’m okay. I just need a moment.”
He smiles kindly down at me. “You got it, bellissima. Take all the moments you need.”
I stay with Tony for another few minutes, but it’s obvious I’ve lost my will to flirt, and he doesn’t try to make any moves. He just engages me in conversation as though I’m not latched on to his side like some kind of parasitic insect. When I’ve recovered enough to move past the hurt and embarrassment, I say goodbye. Tony kisses me on the cheek, and once again, I feel absolutely nothing. I’m beginning to think that asshole Leo Delaney is the only one who makes me giddy and fluttery.
“Take care, Cami,” Tony murmurs. “Don’t be a stranger.”
I try to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. “I won’t. See you around.”
I wander back to my car, get into the driver’s seat, and rest my forehead against the steering wheel. Then I growl, letting out all the frustration bottled inside me. Damn Leo Delaney. Damn him, damn him, damn him. I hate his stupid, jerkish face. Even if it’s very good-looking.
Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately, depending on my point of view—he did tick off #1 on my list. Whether or not I wanted to admit it to him at the time, that kiss was the best I’ve ever had.
I start the car and force myself to focus on the road. As I drive home, I think about the second item on my list: Get a tattoo. I’ve always wanted one. A lot of the girls in this crowd have them, and I’ve always thought they look badass. In some cases, even beautiful. But Karson badmouths tattoos on women. He says they’re ugly and I shouldn’t do anything to make myself less appealing since men are hardly knocking down my door anyway. But now? Screw him. He’s a cheat and a liar. I want a tattoo and I’m going to get one. I’ve even drawn up the design. Now, I just need to find someone to put it on me.
I park in my apartment building’s underground lot and hurry up the stairs. Taking the stairs is a habit I picked up in an effort to shed a few pounds after Karson spent years telling me I’m too fat. But I like the burn in my legs, even if I’ve decided I don’t care about the extra weight. That weight is part of me, and when he’s not around to make derogatory comments, I like myself just fine. I smile as I march upward. My brother has opinions about everything, and now that I can see clearly, I’m never going to let him dictate my actions again. Twin or not, he doesn’t get any say in my life. As I summit the stairs and start along the corridor, my phone rings. I check the screen and groan. It’s my mother.
I raise the phone to my ear. "Hello, Mom."
“Camile. So good to hear your voice. Are you sick?”
I frown. “Uh, no.”
“Have you been run off your feet because you finally decided to get a worthwhile job?”
I wince as I slot the key into my lock. My parents don’t think much of the stylist at a plus-size clothing boutique gig. The only reason they helped me financially to study for my diploma in fashion design is because I agreed to also train as a paralegal at Mom’s law firm. I think they expected me to get excited by courtroom drama and go back to college to become a lawyer, but that’s never been my thing. When I left at the end of my second year, as we’d initially discussed, they were outraged—even though I’d fulfilled our agreement to a T.
“No, I’m still working at Curves.”
“So if you’re not busy or unwell, would you care to explain why it’s been over a month since any of us saw you?”
And there it is. The guilt trip. Her specialty. I step inside and shut the door with more force than is needed.
“I told you. What Karson did is wrong. All you guys can talk about is how unfair it is that he has to endure a year-long suspension. It’s his own fault. Until he’s willing to take responsibility for his actions, I won’t sit around and listen to you disparage good people just to try to make him feel better.”
“But Cami.” She tries her “I’m so reasonable” tone. “He needs your support. This is a difficult time for him. The police are pressing charges for the possession of cocaine.”
I roll my eyes as I flop onto the sofa. “Then maybe he shouldn’t have had cocaine in his possession, and he wouldn’t be having this problem.”
Mom makes a sound of frustration. “I’ve never known you to be so uncaring. You’ve always supported him before.”
“I’m sorry if I’m unsympathetic about the fact my twin brother is a drug cheat.” I end the call and switch off my phone so she can’t call back. Satisfaction rolls through me, followed by a twinge of guilt. I should have been more polite. She is my mother, after all.
No, Cami. You deserve to be treated well. She may be your parent, but she only wants you when you’re useful.
Why do relationships have to be so complicated?
Leo
I land blow after devastating blow on the boxing bag, using far more force than is wise considering I only fought a couple days ago. But I’ve never been one to shy away from the gym, not even when I’m tired and sore. I like to get right back in the thick of it. I pivot and kick, then throw a right overhand punch—my favorite way to knock out an opponent. While I don’t take joy from hurting people, there’s something satisfying about winning via knockout. When it comes down to points, there’s a degree of subjectiveness that pisses me off.
“Tone it down.” At the sound of a voice, I turn and find Seth watching me impassively. “You need to give your body time to recover.”
I grimace because I know better than to behave this way, but I’ve been tied in knots since yesterday.
I kissed Camile Hayes. And it was fucking amazing.
Then I turned around and acted like a dick. But in yet another strange turn of events, she gave me sass right back. I really admired her in that moment, and I don’t like finding things to admire about Camile because I didn’t think she was the kind of woman who had admirable traits. She keeps challenging my perception of her, and I wish she’d just stay in the box I’ve kept her in all these years.
“Sorry. I’ll ease up.”
He nods. “Good. Perhaps Tony could take you through some pad work.”
“I’ll ask.” I force a grin as Seth walks away even though I’d rather not be stuck in close proximity to Tony. I haven’t spoken to him since he had his arm around Camile. When I’d seen them like that, I’d wanted to physically tear her away from him. It was for that very reason I’ve stayed away. I had no right to act like a possessive asshole. Camile and I shared one kiss, fueled as much by anger as lust. She clearly didn’t enjoy it as much as I did, so I need to back the hell off and leave her alone. Unfortunately, even with a few angry jack-off sessions, I can’t get her out of my head. Her lips haunted me all night, and everywhere I go, her scent seems to follow me. I know I’m imagining it because I showered twice, but I could swear I still smell it.
It means nothing.
“Uh, Leo?” A hand appears in front of my face. “Dude, are you okay?”
It’s Tony. I jerk in shock. He’s standing a few feet away, but I failed to notice him approach.
“Sorry, I’m in my own world.”
“I’ll say.” His brow crinkles. “You were out of it.” He holds up a set of focus mitts. “Seth said to go through some combinations. You up for that?”
“Yeah. Thanks, man.” I bump my gloves against his mitts and we take up positions opposite each other.
“Jab, cross,” he instructs. An image of him and Camile flicks through my mind, and I smash my fists into the mitt harder than intended. He doesn’t flinch. “Sixty percent power.”
I repeat the motion with less oomph and manage not to demand to know what his plans are with a certain luscious blonde.
Almost as though he reads my mind, Tony asks, “What happened with Cami yesterday? You dragged her off and then sent her back in tears.”
“She wasn’t crying,” I snap.
“No,” he agrees. “But she wasn’t far off.” He shifts the mitts to his belly. “Knee.” I thrust it at him, and he catches it easily. “The other one.” He edges backward as I move forward, throwing one knee and then the other. “So, you’re not gonna tell me?”
“Nothing to tell.”
He raises a brow. “She was in a weird mood yesterday, and you’re in a weird mood today. Seems like more than nothing to me.”
“Fine.” I push kick one of the pads when he gestures for me to do so. “We kissed, and now I can’t get her out of my fucking mind.”
A laugh booms from his chest. “Wait, you have the hots for sweet Cami? I didn’t see that coming.” He stops for a moment and a strange expression flits over his face before he doubles over. “Wait. You kissed her, and she nearly cried? Your kiss is why she had the sad puppy eyes?”
Honestly, can I just kick this idiot?
“You about done?”
He holds up a hand to gesture for me to wait a minute while he belts out another round of laughter. I glance over my shoulder, noticing a few curious stares. Tony straightens, panting. “Okay, I’m good.” His face is red, and he’s smirking. “But seriously, what did you do to the poor girl?”
My neck hunches into my shoulders and I look away, recalling the callous remark I made afterward. I’d acted like a jerk, and I wasn’t proud of myself. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
I raise an eyebrow. “About?”
His eyes widen. “Cami. Duh.”
I shrug. Mostly, I’ve just been cursing the space she’s taken up in my head. “I wasn’t planning to do anything.”
He rolls his eyes. “For a smart guy, you’re an idiot about women. Luckily for you, I happen to know that she’ll be at Mercy’s tattoo parlor at 2:00 p.m. on Friday. Bet she could use some company.”
My stomach flips. “Tattoo parlor?”
“Yeah.” He grins. “She’s getting her first ink.”
My lips part as dozens of images flash through my mind. Camile’s soft, satiny skin beneath a needle. Sexy ink decorating her already breathtaking body. Where would she get it? Back? Legs? Arms? Somewhere else…?
I take a deep breath and nod to Tony. “Thanks.”
Perhaps I hadn’t planned a next step, but one thing is for sure: come Friday, I’ll be at that tattoo parlor. Because I’m discovering gold beneath the layers of assumptions I unfairly made, and now, no matter how bad I might be for her, it seems I can’t stay away.