“What?”
“Memories is all,” he shrugs, waggling his brows.
I roll my eyes, I knew he was going to bring it up.
“Don’t get any ideas.”
He laughs. “I chased you once Tate, I won’t do it again.” Inhaling a strong breath through my nose I breathe through the hurt constricting my chest.
“Nobody asked you to then, and I’m not asking you to now.” I play it cool, looking over the pages of the sports magazine.
Silence falls between us, the sound of a train in the distance howling out.
Feeling the conversation has gone south, and I am tired of arguing for the night I stand.
“I gotta go,” I state. Stepping over Camden’s leg I toss the magazine in the box. Trying to step back, my foot catches on the root of the tree and I trip. I fall right into Camden’s lap, causing him to fall on his back.
“Watch where you’re going!” he snaps, trying to untangle himself.
“Maybe if you’d move I wouldn’t have tripped!” Pushing my hands into the dirt my face comes within inches of his. I instantly notice his hard chest under mine and the way one of his knees sits right in-between my thighs.
His warm skin against mine burns a fire right into my core. My nails dig into the dirt and I swallow hard. His blue eyes search mine and for the first time since I’ve been back, I don’t sense anger from Camden.
He palms my wrist, his eyes pinning me where I lay. I want to stay like this forever. I can’t find it in me to move even if I wanted to anyway.
The train hollers out again as a light comes into view from down the track.
Blinking myself from my sexual daze I push myself up, and Camden sits up.
Camden clears his throat, and smooths my shirt down. Our eyes flick to one another, before darting anywhere but. The awkward tension settling back in.
Stumbling on the fucking root again I make my way over the track into my backyard. My body is on fire, and the desire pulsing between my thighs is demanding to being tended to or a cold shower.
Parting the tree branches I head back to the house, leaving Camden behind.
I find Journey setting the table looking over the dinner she made proudly.
“Still going to try for a family dinner?” I ask, gripping the back of a dining room chair and pulling it out to sit in. I want this family back together just as much as she does, but I think it’s going to take time.
“Yes, I won’t give up that easily,” she replies, as she sets a fourth plate.
“You set too many plates.” I jut my chin at the plate she just placed.
“No I didn’t, there’s four.” She points at each one as she counts them.
“Exactly, there’s three of us. How much pot have you been smoking?”
She casually shrugs. “I invited someone else.”
“Babe, you’re out of TP in the bathroom,” an unfamiliar voice sounds from behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I find the guy that was outside our house weeks ago, when Journey had a bloody nose. Scotty. He has on a blue ball cap that sits backwards. A black tank top and baggy dark jeans. Tattoos running up and down his arms.
“You!” I seethe. I can’t believe she invited that tool for dinner! I thought she was getting tired of his games and was finally coming to light that he was a scumbag.
“What the fuck’s your problem?” he sneers at me, his lip curled. My heart thunders in my chest from his stance, tone, and just his fucking presence.
“You’re my problem!” Shoving off the chair I ball my fists and march toward him. All the confusion and anger rolling through me I’m more than ready to start a fight. The muscles in his shoulders tense, and he lifts his chin as I near.
“Wait!” Journey jumps between us. Her hands outstretched like a referee. “Please, I brought him over to make peace. He’s not a bad guy Tate.”
“He hit you, of course he’s a bad guy.” I laugh dishearteningly.
“Yo, babe, you better do something about this disrespect,” he orders, pointing at me like a thug.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I take another step forward ready to jab this asshole in the face.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Dad steps out of his room. Dad’s eyes light up before contorting into anger when he sets sight on Scotty. “Why are you here?”
“Journey said she was getting her family together for dinner, I told her I was her family.” He points at himself. “I should be here!” Scotty informs. I can’t help the look of surprise on my face. This guy is a one of a kind stupid.
“You are not her family. Leave, or I’m calling the cops,” Dad threatens.
Scotty turns, and cracks his knuckles in a threatening manner.
“Oh, you think you’re going to call the cops old man?”
Scotty steps toward Dad, and Journey jumps in front of him. “Stop!” He pushes her to the ground as if he’s swatting a fly.
I fall to Journey’s side, helping her up.