Nate nodded. ‘Yeah, he told us what a remarkable dick he was to you.’
That stopped me in midstride, and I twisted around to stare at Cam.
He shrugged at me, his expression still deadpan. ‘I told you I was sorry.’
My eyes swung to his grinning friends and then back to him. ‘Well, then, I guess I might actually believe you now. Neighbour.’ And with a nod of goodbye to them all, I started descending the stairs carefully.
‘That’s Jo?’ Nate asked loudly, as I disappeared from view, his voice carrying all the way down to me, and I couldn’t help but prick my ears up to listen.
‘Shut up,’ Cam hissed. ‘Let’s get the rest of the stuff in.’
‘Christ almighty, you weren’t kidding, were you? How fucking long are those legs?’
‘Nate …’
‘How can you stand it, mate? If you’re not having a crack at her, I am.’
Cam’s growl reverberated down to me. ‘Get in the fucking flat!’
His door slammed and I jumped, stalling on the last landing. What the hell had all that meant? What had Cam said about me?
The simple style of the restaurant with its soft wood and soothing beige and cream decor should have at least added a semblance of calm to the situation.
But nope.
I sat across from Becca and Cam, Malcolm at my side, and prayed that I was the only one feeling the cloying tension at the table. We’d ordered and eaten our appetizers, and all the while Becca and Malcolm kept the conversation afloat. As we waited for our main course to arrive, I shifted uncomfortably under the silence that had fallen over the group.
Since the moment I’d arrived with Malcolm, I’d been desperately avoiding looking at Cam. He’d been on my mind all day, and I swear my pulse had not slowed since discovering he was our new neighbour. All the worst scenarios played out in my head. Cam hearing my mum, Cam discovering why my mum was so bloody noisy sometimes, Cam letting it slip to someone important to me … say, Malcolm.
And yes, if I was honest with myself, I was also worried that Cam’s already low opinion of me would be completely obliterated by the truth of my mother’s situation. Why I cared what he thought, I couldn’t work out. I didn’t know him. I didn’t really know what kind of man he was.
‘I love your dress, Jo. Malcolm has such good taste, doesn’t he?’ Becca smiled over the top of her wineglass.
I managed a small smile in return, not sure if she was being catty or genuine. ‘I love your dress too.’ I was being genuine. Becca was wearing a dark gold sequined dress with a high neckline and short skirt. It looked expensive and classy.
Malcolm was dapper as always in a three-piece suit with an emerald green tie to match my dress and Cam …well … Cam was Cam.
Although I avoided his direct gaze, I couldn’t help but check out his attire. His only concession to formal wear was a pair of black suit trousers – black suit trousers he had worn with a printed tee, a worn black leather biker jacket and his engineer boots. Out of politeness, he’d taken off the leather jacket at the dinner table.
Somehow I couldn’t help but admire him. He was dressed the way he wanted to dress and he didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought. That’s probably why he was so bloody attractive no matter what he wore.
‘Your shoes are cute too.’ Becca grinned. ‘I was eyeing them as you walked across the room.’
Cam snorted, pushing his fork into his napkin in absent-minded boredom. His mouth tilted up at the corner. ‘Malcolm, I just love your tie. It does magnificent things for your eyes.’
Malcolm grinned at his drollness and pointed at Cam’s tattoos. ‘I like the art. What does the black script say?’
I leaned forward. I’d wanted to know this from the moment I’d met him.
‘ “Be Caledonia”,’ Becca answered, eyeing Cam’s arm in irritation. ‘And don’t bother asking him what the hell that means, because he won’t tell you.’
I wasn’t even surprised any more at the warm shock of tingles between my legs at the way Cam’s lips curled in amusement. Apparently, anything he did turned me on. Our eyes met for a second and I lowered mine quickly, flushing.
‘Well, what about the dragon?’ Malcolm continued. ‘Does that have significance?’
Cam nodded. ‘I was significantly drunk when I got it.’
‘Oh, no.’ Malcolm laughed. ‘One of those.’
‘One of those. I was twenty-two, dating an older woman who happened to be a tattoo artist. We got drunk, I ended up in her chair, she asked me what tattoo I wanted, I said surprise me …’ He shrugged.
I laughed at the thought of him coming out of the chair to find he had a fierce dragon on his arm. ‘So she gave you a black and purple dragon?’
Cam flashed his knickers-dropping smile at me. ‘She was big into fantasy. I should have remembered that before I agreed to sit in her chair.’
‘It’s an amazing piece of artwork.’