I’d throw away my future to be with her, because none of it matters without her.
She stirs in her sleep, and my hands tighten on her naked breast, pulling her closer. They fit my hands so well. I’ll never love anyone other than her.
Our parents say we don’t know what love is, but I call bullshit. When all you do is think of the other person when they’re away, and think of how you could possibly be closer to them when they’re with you. What is that?
Rolling over, I glance at the clock. 5:14am. Gently I pull my arm out from under her and climb off the bed. Heading over to my dresser I open it, finding the little blue box. I flip the lid, the moon hitting the white gold necklace of two boxing gloves perfectly and reflecting off the ceiling. I’m giving it to her tomorrow when she leaves.
Thumbing the necklace, I close the lid and put it back in the drawer.
“Camden?” she croaks half asleep.
“I’m here.” Climbing back on the bed I pull her into me, and close my eyes.
“I love you, Tatum Davis.”
“I love you, Camden Steel.”
***
Waking up, I roll over and grab for Tate. Needing to feel her, wanting to program having her in bed next to me to memory. My hand slides over an empty spot. Panic strikes my chest and I sit up straight.
“Tate?”
The window is open, the curtain blowing with the wind. I throw the blanket off and nearly trip climbing out of the bed. Quickly I dart out of the room finding my dad at the breakfast table looking at me with distaste.
“What the hell is your problem?” he growls. I ignore the red lipstick staining his collar from clothes he wore yesterday. It’s nothing new sadly, I’ve called him out on it many times. Soon enough Mom will have had enough and leave his ass.
“Is Tate in here?”
He shakes his head, his fingers rubbing his temples, indicating he’s had another night of binge drinking. I scoff at how pathetic he’s become and throw my hand at him dismissively. My feet stomp on the hardwood floor as I run out the front door, finding Tate’s car gone.
Sprinting across the lawn, the wet grass sticking to my feet, I jump onto her stoop and open the front door without knocking. Her dad is reading the paper in his chair, his eyes looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Tate, where is she?”
Lowering his paper, he shakes his head.
“She’s left. Let her be Camden, this is best for the both of you.”
Turning, I stumble outside, walking back to my room in a trance.
She left, without saying goodbye. Why?
Sitting on my bed I slide my phone off the dresser and call her.
No answer. So I text her.
Standing I pace, trying to calm myself, trying to find a pillar of hope and my phone alerts me of a text.
Do what you’re meant to do Camden. I can’t be the one to hold you back. I will always love you. –T
Using my finger I wipe at the single tear trying to fall, and try to text back, but it fails. She’s disconnected her phone. Like that, she’s gone.
Grabbing the blue box from my dresser, I throw it across the room. A roar ripping up my throat so angry I taste blood.
Fuck love. Fuck Tate.
Chapter Fifteen
Tate
Walking into the gym, I find Camden sitting on the edge of the ring taping his hands in white tape. Butterflies swarm in my stomach as I try to sneak to the locker room without being seen. I’m still embarrassed about what went down between us last time we saw each other.
Not being able to help myself, I risk a glance, and he looks up at the same time. Doing a double take, his eyes set on mine. My heart flutters, and I swallow hard. A flashback of last night flashes in my mind and my panties dampen from my sudden arousal. Quickly I avert my gaze and rush inside the locker room.
I slam the door shut and press my back up against it. My head leaning back, I close my eyes. I shouldn’t have come in today. I should have waited a few days, or months. I bang my head against the door. This. Is. So. Embarrassing.
The door is shoved open, and I move. Nervous Debs or someone is trying to come in and I’ve blocked it.
It’s Camden.
His blond hair falls around his face, and he’s not wearing a shirt again. His toned chest screaming for me to rake my nails down it.
He turns, shutting the door behind him. I swallow as he just shut us both in. Alone.
“What are you doing in here?” I mutter. He looks over his shoulder, hooded eyes making me hold my breath. He struts toward me, the smell of him filling the locker room. He doesn’t answer me as he corners me. Placing his hand on the wall behind me his face inches from mine he smirks.
“Why are you hiding in here?” his voice echoes through the room.
“I was just—” he lowers his head and my train of thought is gone.
“Is it because you came on my leg?” he whispers in my ear, and my whole body blushes in embarrassment.
My chest rises and falls quickly as my body whips up into a sexual storm willing this man to just plow me against a locker and hate fuck me already.