Page 27 of Challenge
I exhale heavily because I know, deep down, there’s no way I can walk away from him like this. He has to have the surgery. It’s what’s best for him.
“I’ll stay, but only because I have it on good authority that you have nothing to be nervous about. Plus, I slept like a rock in that chair.”
“If you think the chair is comfy, you should feel the bed.” He tweaks his brows at me and I feel better seeing his playful side come back to the surface. Just as quickly, he closes his eyes as if he’s in pain and adds, “You need to get some clothes on because I just pictured pulling that towel off and motor-boating your tits.”
Camden manages to find me a pair of black compression tights that fit me like loose leggings and a white T-shirt that is so large I have to knot it around my waist. It isn’t far off from what I wear when I workout at the hospital, so I’m able to duck out easily before Nurse Beardie’s final checks for the night.
Back in the on-call room, I take a quick shower and brush my teeth. I change into my own workout clothes so anyone that might see me in the hallway later will assume I’m on my way to the gym. This whole set up is weird and totally horrid. But it’s rather satisfying doing something wild and against the rules. It makes wearing my colourful eyeglasses look about as exciting as a bird-printed cardigan on a granny.
Running into Belle as I leave the on-call room is the only hiccup. But I convince her that I’m going home to sleep so I’m well-rested for the big career-making surgery tomorrow.
I hate lying to her. She’s my one and only best friend—the person who made up this Penis List with me in the first place. I’m too terrified of what her opinion might be to come clean, though. Would she cheer me on? Judge me? Call me an idiot? It could be all of the above.
Mostly, I just don’t want this bubble I’m in popped quite yet. I’ve managed to put this thing I’m doing with Cam in his room into a protective box that feels so far removed from the real world that I can’t bring myself to allow reality in. I’ll probably tell her everything after Cam’s gone. But right now, I don’t need the extra pressure of her opinion before I even know my own.
It’s just before ten by the time I make it back upstairs to Camden’s room. I find him lying in his big bed with his nose in a novel and a pen in his hand as he scribbles something inside of it. His braced leg is sticking out of the blanket and I’m pleased to see he’s got a shirt and shorts on. After our heated make-out session earlier and me almost ripping his towel off, it’s probably for the best.
I wince at the audible sound of me locking the door. I’d rather not take any chances tonight. “Beardie did her rounds already, right?” I whisper.
“Yes, she did. She’s gone ‘til seven.” He’s still writing inside of his book. “One second, I’m almost done.”
I head over to his closet and toss his shirt and tights in with the rest of his clothes. This is all so ridiculously casual. How is it possible I feel so at ease in Cam’s little suite here?
Heading back toward his bed, I get a better look at what he’s writing in. “Are you an Alex Cross fan?”
He frowns thoughtfully over his note and looks up for the first time. His eyes flick down to my blue tank and black leggings. “I might be. Can I just add that I’m a fan of your aversion to traditional pyjamas?”
Ignoring the last part of his response, I do my best to school my features so they don’t appear too surprised over his reading hobby. But I have to admit, a mystery-reading footballer is most definitely not a combination I would have put together on my own, especially one who writes notes in the margins.
Camden abruptly clears his throat when I move to sit in the chair. “I was thinking you should just crawl into bed beside me.”
My jaw drops.
“Hear me out.” He angles toward me and props himself on his elbow. “You already know we won’t be having sex. Even though a secret hospital room shag sounds pretty epic, we both know that you need to be completely relaxed and that’ll never happen here.”
“Right,” I reply, ignoring his charmingly eager eyes.
“So this is just for the sleep. You’ll sleep so much better here, and it’s important you’re at your best when you operate on London’s sexiest footballer tomorrow.”
“I’ve met all your brothers, Cam. Are you entirely sure you hold that title?”
He watches me for a silent moment with a playful scowl and finally says, “Just get your arse in here and stop playing defence, Specs.” He throws back the cover and shoots me a smouldering look. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“I could get into serious trouble if I get caught. That is a very big deal.”
He exhales heavily. “The door is locked. Beardie’s gone. No one came in last night. We’re safe. And on the Harris name, I promise you, there will be no funny business. If there is, you can blast me to the tabloids.”
His eagerness is a bit shocking. For a guy who has all the qualities of a player but promises he doesn’t want sex, I’m not sure why it’s such a big deal for me to sleep in his bed. I bite my lip, pondering that notion.
He takes my hesitation as an opening to continue his pitch. “Haven’t you ever just wanted to take a risk? Live a little?”
It’s as if he’s speaking directly to that meek girl in my heart of hearts—the one who only did as she was told by teachers and never experienced that wild, rebellious teenager stage.
My jaw opens to refuse again, but the words get stuck in my throat.
“Seriously, what’s the last wild thing you did?” he asks.
“This would top the list.” I shake my head with a self-deprecating laugh and glance back at the door. I can’t believe I’m seriously wanting to do this right now.
