It was a big area with lots of pools to choose from. I had no idea where Camden could be or if he was even there, but it was worth checking first. I stayed along the wall where the change rooms were, observing everyone—buff frat boys, fat tourists, screaming children, bachelorette parties. Finally I spotted him on the opposite side of the largest pool. He was alone and reading a book, although a few chairs down there were a bunch of bodacious blondes who were tanning their oiled asses. He kept sneaking glances at them and I choked back the streak of bitterness that zipped through me. Now I was jealous of any girl Camden looked at? I was officially going insane.
I decided to chance it. I walked around the pool, as casually as possible, as if most women in Vegas wore combat boots, jeans and a slightly dirty tank top to go sun-tanning.
I stopped in front of his chair, unabashedly admiring his physique under the security of my sunglasses. Fuck, damn. He looked good. And those bikini babes he kept glancing at, well they were certainly checking him out, too. When they saw me, they glared a little. I glared right back. Too bad they couldn’t see it.
“Hey,” I said to him.
He slowly tore his eyes from his book, a new hardcover of Neil Gaiman’s latest, and broke into a grin when he looked up. I nearly melted. It was hot out.
“I hoped you would come,” he said, patting the chair beside him. I smiled a bit too smugly for the other girls’ benefit, and with that same smile, did a quick sweep of my surroundings. So far, so good. No one walking toward me like T-1000.
I hovered for a second, watching a bead of sweat travel down the ridge of his abs before sitting down. He picked up a plastic shopping bag and placed it in my lap.
“That’s for you,” he said.
I peered inside. ”What is it?”
“Take it out and look.”
If it was a bomb, I was going to be very upset.
“I bought myself some swim shorts since I forgot to pack any. I knew you probably didn’t own a swimsuit.”
I held it in my hands like it was a baby (and, just for reference, I hold babies like they are snakes). It was a bikini, pale yellow with adjustable triangles. Not the most modest-looking thing but it had more coverage than the bikini babes. I’d never wear it in a million years.
I smiled tightly, trying to coax out some appreciation. “It’s lovely, Camden. But I don’t think I’m going to go swimming.”
I began to put it back in the bag but he suddenly reached over and grabbed my wrist. Hard. I’d been fearing the bikini when I should have been fearing him.
“You can’t just sit here in your jeans and boots, Ellie,” he said. He was startlingly serious.
“Yes I can,” I told him. My eyes darted around. His tone was making me more nervous.
His grip tightened and I tried to pull back but he held me in place. He leaned over and pulled down his sunglasses. “You’re wearing the bathing suit. There’s no reason for you not to.”
I frowned at his hand over my wrist. “Yes, there is a very good reason,” I hissed, “and you know exactly what it is. You tried with the mini-skirt, and this definitely isn’t any better.”
“You need to get over your fears. You need to stop caring what people think,” he said.
“I don’t have to do a single thing you say,” I shot back.
He jerked me toward him and I let out a gasp. He didn’t hurt me but he was acting irrational. I looked around to see if anyone had seen. The bikini babes were sitting up and watching us with concern. I might need their help after all.
He leaned into my face and peered at me, searching for something and being angered by what he found. “You have to do everything I say. I don’t care if it was your idea to leave Palm Valley, your idea to come here, your ex-boyfriend who is coming after you. You keep forgetting that you’re really here because of me. You keep forgetting that I own you.”
So this was what this was about. I matched his look and leaned in closer. “You think you own me? You only own my fate. You don’t own me right here, right now,” I snarled.
Then I suddenly yanked myself back and he let go. I kept my eyes on him, afraid to look away, but I could hear the girls whispering anxiously. I didn’t blame them. It’s never fun to see a couple fighting. And we weren’t even a couple.
I stood up, bundling the bikini in my hands.
He glared up at me. “You’re so afraid, Ellie Watt. You’re afraid to show the world what you’re really like. You’re afraid to come to peace with your scars, because the minute you do, the minute you accept them, you have to let go of your anger. You have to let go of your quest. And then who would you be?”
I didn’t know.
“Fuck you,” I said, throwing the bikini in his face. The tears were almost breaking through and I hated myself for them. I hated myself for yelling at him in public but I couldn’t help it. “Is that what you meant by trying to humiliate me? Is this what you need to make things even?”
Before he could do anything but stare at me, mouth agape, remorse in his brow, I turned and ran away with a sob. I couldn’t stop the tears now. They’d been building for too long. I ran past the white wall of lawn chairs, people turning to look and see. I ran onto the posh interior level with its small food court and all the way to the elevator.