Crow's Row

I smiled softly and waited for him to come back.

He kept his eyes on me. He blinked. His fists loosened. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, ran

his fingers through his hair, and scratched his head, breathing with purpose. After a long

second, he turned. A forced smile had crept across his face.

“Good morning.” My voice croaked a little. I swallowed the sadness of him away.

“Mornin’,” he answered gruffly. His cheeks flushed, and his hair went every which way. He was

beautiful again.

I sighed with gratitude.

“I thought you said that you don’t sleep?”

“I don’t … usually,” he replied with a sheepish smile.

The bedroom door was still ajar, the way Cameron had left it during the night. Meatball was

already downstairs, likely taking on the routine of his food inspection duties.

Cameron and I stepped down the stairs together. Spider and Carly were walking in through the

front door. Spider grimaced as soon as he saw us. Carly turned to him. “Told you he’d be here,

” she muttered loud enough for us to hear.

Spider wasn’t laughing when he turned to Cameron. “Is there a reason why you weren’t

answering your phone? You could’ve at least left us a note, man. We had no idea where you went.



Cameron cleared his throat, looked like he was about to respond, peeked at me, and flushed a

little more. Guards carrying boxes were lining up at the doorway, and being halted behind Spider

and Carly, who were blocking their procession. Carly moved ahead to let them through. Spider

followed her, ensuring to throw a glare at me before he disappeared through the kitchen.

Some of the guards’ gaze flashed toward the stairs in our direction as they walked through.

Cameron sparked a small discreet smile my way and ran down the rest of the stairs. He walked out

the door, passing Griff on his way out.

“Hey, Ginger,” greeted a chipper Griff. He peered at me over the box of frozen dinners he was

carrying. He paused at the door to take off his shoes, balancing the box at the same time.

Cameron was walking off the front stoop. His head momentarily spun toward Griff, but he kept

walking to the awaiting vans.

Griff eyed me top to bottom. “Did you just get up?” he asked in passing and continued into the

kitchen. I realized with mortification that I was still wearing my pajamas—my uncool Mickey

Mouse flannel pajamas.

Back in Cameron’s room, I was walking on air, setting a new record for my morning routine. Then

I bounced back down the stairs and into the kitchen where Rocco was busy putting the groceries

away. Cameron, Carly, and Spider were sitting at the kitchen table, murmuring over paperwork.

Cameron, who was also freshly showered and dressed, snuck a look as I walked into the kitchen.

He grinned very quickly, and bent his head back over the documents in front of him before Spider

and Carly ever noticed the momentary lapse of attention. I smiled to myself and helped Rocco put

the groceries away, tucking them in whatever free space we could find.

I fixed myself a bowl of cereal, even if it was already past lunchtime. Not wanting to disturb

the business meeting and feel Spider’s resentment, I strolled to the back deck, where I sat to

eat breakfast alone.

The sky was gray. The air was still and muggy. A storm was brewing.

I watched the dark clouds billowing above, threatening rain for the day. Under them, the far-

reaching forest was harshly calm, and a thin layer of fog draped the treetops. I closed my eyes

and took a long-winded inhalation; the smell of the mossy dampness of the woods that surrounded

me was a newfound reassurance, as if the blanket of greenery was keeping the storm from ever

really reaching me. An uncanny reaction for a city girl, I thought.

When Cameron came to sit next to me, he put his feet on the table, and we watched the dark sky,

while the clouds debated whether to burst or keep moving.

He was next to me, but he was far away.

I turned to glimpse him just as a drop splashed against his forehead.

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” he asked, his voice distant. He rolled his head and kept my

eyes. “When I told you to stay away from the projects, why did you still come back?”

If his eyes hadn’t been locked with mine, if my brain worked when he was near me, if I was able

to lie to him, I could have come up with a million plausible excuses. Except that I couldn’t

lie to him, but I couldn’t tell him the truth either. Was I even sure what the truth was,

exactly? I broke the dazzle and practiced pulling on the thread that was unraveling from my

shorts while my cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

When I looked up, Cameron had turned his attention back to the sky. He was far away again. My

lack of response had been enough of an answer for him?

After a short while, steady droplets of rain started coming down.





Chapter Eleven:

Fun and Games



Julie Hockley's books