I waited, tapping my foot in the puddle we had been left standing in. I thought it must be
odd to be surrounded by people who had no idea who you were. And then I realized that this wasn
’t much different from my own life in Callister.
Cameron looked pensive, taking part in another of his private debates. He shook his head in
defeat. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this … my last name is Hillard.”
While my thoughts were engraving his name inside the walls of my head, I held my hand out in a
truce. “Nice to meet you, Cameron Hillard. I’m Emily Sheppard.”
This time, Cameron took my hand and shook it hardily with a guilty smile on his face. “Nice to
meet you, Emily Sheppard.”
“There,” I said with satisfaction. “Now we can officially start over.”
Cameron chuckled lightly, slowly picking up his good mood. I was relieved.
Thunder and lightning crashed, and we ran the rest of the way home. The fog was blinding, so
Cameron had to shepherd our way.
I was startled by the two soaked guards who appeared out of the fog as we neared the property
line. They quickly receded when they saw Cameron.
We had made it back to the house, breathless, covered in mud, and soaking wet. Puddles were
rapidly forming around our feet on the marble floor.
I stood by, with great awkwardness, while Cameron stripped down to his boxer shorts.
“Wait here,” he ordered with renewed energy and ran off through the kitchen. He came back with
a bath towel in his hand and another around his waist. He draped the towel around my shoulders
and held it so that I could get undressed under it. “I promise I won’t look,” he told me with
a devious smirk.
Shivering, I removed my clothes while Cameron looked away with a big grin on his face. I
relieved Cameron of his post and draped the towel tightly around my torso. My teeth chattering,
I flew upstairs and stood under the scorching hot water of the shower until I was sure I had
accomplished my mission of getting a first-degree burn. Dressed and warmed, I bounded back down
the stairs and walked in on five nearly naked men standing at the front entrance.
Piles of wet and dirty clothes had been thrown on the floor. It seemed that, like Cameron and
me, everyone had been peeling off their clothes at the door instead of trekking water and mud
everywhere in the house. The foyer floor was now a brown lake.
I waited for them to move out of the way so I could get by. Clad in their soaked underwear, the
trembling men largely disregarded me and argued about whom the highest ranked were to determine
first dibs on a hot shower. They kept the argument going while they made their way downstairs.
A bare-chested Griff was left behind in the foyer, still struggling to get his soaking wet socks
off his feet. He had a sour look on his face, his mood matching the stormy weather.
“Hey, Griff,” I said with careful cheerfulness.
Griff lifted his head, acknowledged me with a grunt. He finally managed to pull one of his socks
off and proceeded to throw it onto one of the piles of wet clothes, but slipped and almost fell
on his behind.
“I saw you with Spider earlier, he looked pretty upset,” I said. “Did you get in trouble for
slacking off while they were gone?”
“That and other stuff.” After tugging for a while, Griff pulled off his wet jeans and stood
unabashedly in his underwear. I instantly looked away.
The uncommon smell of a home-cooked meal was coming from the kitchen. The prospect of food
always cheered me up.
“Are you at least coming in for supper?” I offered, motioning toward the kitchen.
“No, thanks. I think you’ve gotten me in enough trouble as it is. I’ll be lucky if I live to
see another day,” he grumbled.
“What do you mean?”
Griff’s eyes shot over my shoulder. “Never mind. I gotta go,” he said, his voice low and
panicked. He rushed past me and disappeared into the basement.
I spun on my heels. Cameron was behind me, leaning against the doorway into the kitchen, his
arms casually crossed over his chest. I hopped toward him.
Carly was standing over the stove, vehemently stirring foodstuff in a large frying pan while
barking orders at Spider, who was dutifully cutting vegetables. Cameron led me to the table,
where mismatched candles and a table set for five waited for us. Rocco was already sitting at
the table, eagerly holding his plate over his heart with both hands.
“Where’s everyone else?” I wondered.
“It’s just the family tonight,” Cameron told me.
Rocco glanced at his big brother with interest, momentarily slacking his grip on his plate while
Carly and Spider filtered in with masses of food. Burritos, fajitas, guacamole, apple juice in
plastic wine glasses … it seemed to me that there was too much food for just five people.