Page 47 of Hard Rock Sin
The wide eyed look on Cameron's face had slowly faded, replaced with a wide smirk and a heated, narrow look.
"Where the hell did you get those?"
"The internet."
I tossed him the pair of Wonder Woman panties. He caught them easily.
"Does this mean you're going to grant me a wish?" I asked, trying not to sound nervous.
Cameron looked at the thong in his hand before flashing me a smirk. "Sure does. What do you want? Fancy new car? Want me to pay off your professors to give you straight A's?"
"Sit with me and finish watchingThe Terminator?"
He blinked. "Are you serious?"
"I told you, I haven't seen it before."
Cameron stared at me, a curious look on his face. A soft smile crossed his lips.
"Anything my Angel wishes."
As we settled down into the leather armchairs I reflected on one thing.
Cameron hadn't given me back my panties.
Chapter Fifteen
After finishing the movie, Cameron went back to the party, saying he had to entertain his guests. He flashed me a wide grin, but something in his eyes, an almost rueful look, told me his heart wasn't into it.
I'd asked him to turn off the third floor speakers, which he did with a few taps on an app. He must run everything in his house through his phone.
With the music silenced, the party goers who had been mingling outside my bedroom left and presumably made their way to other floors.
I didn't have to pull an all-nighter, but I hadn't gone to sleep until hours after midnight and was up early the next day. I was a zombie throughout most of my classes.
When I remembered the surprised look in his eyes when I found him in the movie room by himself, when I remembered his smile after I asked him to sit and watchThe Terminatorwith me…
I couldn't make myself regret it.
As I sat through a seminar, chin in hand and trying not to fall asleep, my mind began to drift. My gaze wandered around the classroom, taking in my fellow students.
Half them looked like their hair hadn't seen a comb in weeks, or had been tossed in a messy bun. They wore paint-spattered jeans and sneakers or hoodies covered in clay dust. A few of the girls wore subtle makeup, but for the most part they were the epitome of the absent-minded artist type.
I supposed I was the same. My own skirt had splotches of paint and my hair was kept in that same messy bun while I was on campus.
The difference between the people at Cameron's parties and the people I sat next to in class everyday was intriguing. His party guests were all movie-star attractive, no doubt the majority of them models, actors, and other peers. Perfect makeup, coiffed hair, and fashionable clothing had been the norm.
One other difference was striking, in that no one in class seemed to know who I was. Or if they did, they didn't care or remark on it. My fellow students and I had been chosen out of thousands who applied to attend this early summer session. We were the best of the best. And to be the best, one had to dedicate their lives to their art. No time for rock star parties.
"Ms. Hart?"
I jolted upright, my hand sliding off my chin. "Yes?"
"Do you know the answer?"
"Um."
I had no idea what the question had been. My mind was clouded with fatigue.
