God. I was a mess.
“Okay,” I said, and I must have been acting like a handful because Cameron looked shocked for a moment. I felt horrible. I settled down on the couch with a sigh. “Thank you for taking care of all these things.” Thanks for taking care of me. “But please, don’t burn down the cabin. I’d hate to have to bail you out after they charge you with arson.”
He gave me one of those lopsided smirks.
I averted my eyes. The effect of him actively taking care of me was so loud and clear in my head that I feared Cameron saw it written all over my face. Saw how good it made me feel. Saw how sweet I thought him buying clothes for me was. Even if they were ugly.
The truth was that I didn’t have much experience being in this position.
When I’d dated David, we’d spent most of our time busy with our own individual lives. He had never gone out of his way to do things for me, and I hadn’t, either. Thinking back to it, we’d started seeing each other because it had been suggested by our respective fathers. Maybe even expected. It made sense for the son and daughter of business partners to date. So we… had. It hadn’t been perfect or romantic, but I’d settled. I’d convinced myself I was content, that every relationship was different. I wasn’t the loving, affectionate type so, naturally, I shouldn’t expect the same from a man.
And now this one man who had been crystal clear about not liking me was doing all these things for me. He was rescuing me and feeding me breakfast and getting me clothes and telling me he was going to take care of me. I didn’t understand how we’d gotten here. And I didn’t know what to do with all these emotions rioting in my chest, making it feel tight.
“Darling?” Cameron’s voice brought me back to his living room, to the couch I had been carefully settled on by his arms, and all the plush pillows he’d placed around me. “What happened yesterday? What made you so frightened?”
Frightened. I had been scared, hadn’t I?
I let out a shaky breath, and I was suddenly so tired of wondering why he even cared, or asked, that I didn’t bother fighting him anymore. I answered with the truth.
“Someone reminded me why I am here. That I messed up back home. And I don’t know how to fix it other than to do what I’m told. For a moment yesterday, I almost fooled myself into thinking that I’m fine and this is all okay and not a complete and utter mess.” I shrugged, and perhaps it was the way Cameron was looking at me, not a trace of judgment in his eyes, or perhaps it was something else, but I added, “You were looking at me the way you are now. Just like that. I didn’t want it to end.”
His words were soft, barely a whisper. “Like what?”
“Like I’m something precious. Worth looking at.”
His face fell. “Why would you think otherwise?”
“Because no one ever looks at me that way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Adalyn
My pajamas weren’t here.
Josie had come while Cameron was in practice with the team. He hadn’t been joking, she’d shown up at Cameron’s door with a box in her arms. It contained all my things.
“Move-in day!” she’d said with a cheer.
I didn’t fight her. I didn’t think I had any energy or willpower for that. My conversation with Cameron had left me… raw.
And as much as I thought I still hadn’t done anything to earn Josie’s kindness, I wanted it. So I let her fuss over me and be a little mad for not saying anything about the state I’d been living in. The horrible cottage.
Josie had called me silly and proud, and then she’d stuffed my mouth with cake and demanded I stop being so stubborn. I wondered if Cameron and Josie had ganged up on me or if I really had been so complicated to deal with.
Probably both.
With a sigh, I plucked the clean L.A. Stars jersey from the dryer, shed the robe, and put it on. I’d have to sleep in this, although at least now I’d be wearing underwear underneath. I slipped my arms back into the soft and cozy robe and brought the edges over my chest. I wondered if Cameron wore this around the house. Maybe right out of bed. Or maybe while he lounged around the place. What did he wear underneath? His sleeping clothes? Or was he one of those men who slept in his underwear? An image of him in nothing but boxers assaulted me, bringing heat to my skin. I thought back to the other morning. His bare chest. The indent of his hips. The ink on his thigh. I wished I could have gotten a closer look. I…
A knock on the door of the laundry room startled me right out of those dangerous, dangerous thoughts. When I turned, it was none other than the man I had just been picturing almost naked in my head.
Cameron stood tall under the doorframe, in workout clothes and with his hair a little wet. I wondered if it was raining or if practice had been that intense.
“Hi,” I croaked.
“Hi,” he said back.
We stared at each other, and there was something passing between us. I could tell. The last time we’d talked I’d said some things that should have probably remained thoughts. He was looking at me like that again. And it made my chest hurt with… something that felt a lot like longing.
“Darling?”
I cleared my throat. “How was practice?”
The corners of his lips twitched at my question. “The girls made you a get well soon card.”
A spot in my chest warmed. “That’s so nice of them,” I admitted. Genuinely. But then… “I hope María didn’t bully them into signing it.”
“Believe me, they were all quite concerned. You did a number on all of us on Saturday. Even Diane asked if you were okay.” Cameron took a small step forward. “I left the card on your bedside table.” My bedside table. “You got everything washed?”
“Yes,” I answered with a nod. “I… I hate to ask but did you happen to get me pajamas with everything else? Mine are nowhere to be found.”
His expression turned rock solid. “No.”
“Oh, okay. That’s fine.” I scratched the side of my head, feeling a little shifty under his gaze. “I sound like a jerk, don’t I? Here you are doing all these things for me and I’m demanding more and more. I’m so sorry. I’ll sleep in something else.”
“You can borrow a shirt.”
I opened the robe at the chest. “I already have this on.”
The green in Cameron’s eyes changed. “That’s…” He trailed off with a strange breath. He frowned. “That’s perfect. You’re heading to bed?”
“Not yet?” I fumbled with the edges of the robe. “I’m actually a little hungry. And not sleepy at all after napping most of the day away.”
Cameron stalked in my direction, and in two determined strides he was in front of me. The scent of him hit me right in the chest. Clean, woodsy, a hint of sweat. My stomach dropped with awareness. My heart sped up. “I’m damp and sweaty,” he said, his words falling on my temple. “But I’d really like to carry you to the couch. Can I?”
I stared up at him, caught off guard by his question. The urge to lift my hand and reach for those dark locks of wet hair overwhelmed me.
“I know you hate it,” he explained. “But if the sweat bothers you—”
“Please,” I whispered. Just that. Because he couldn’t have been any more wrong.
In a heartbeat, his arms were moving around me and he was picking me up. My cheek fell onto his chest. Cameron smelled like rain. Hard work. I closed my eyes. “I could get used to this.”
I felt more than heard the sound that made his rib cage vibrate, and in what felt like not enough time, we were in the living room and he was depositing me onto the couch. His arms remained around my body for a moment longer than necessary, making me open my eyes.
I forced myself to speak, to drive my attention away from the face that was hovering too close. “Josie left mashed potatoes and a chicken casserole in the fridge,” I said, my voice coming out all wrong. “I’ll—”