Page 69 of Challenge
Her head tremors with an awkward nod. “Yes, we’re fine. I’m on the pill.”
I sag with relief but still register her clipped tone. Knowing that was the easy question would be comical if I was in a laughing mood. But the tightness of her posture gives me an uneasy feeling.
I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her carefully. “What are you thinking?”
As if her words have been on the tip of her tongue, she asks, “Was all of that an act last night? A performance? Were you trying to draw a foul?”
Wounded, I reply, “No.”
She stares back at me accusingly. “It wasn’t?”
“No, Specs. I’m not that good of an actor. Did it feel like an act?” She remains silent. “Did you want it to be an act?”
Her face sparks with anger. “Yes! This was supposed to be casual, Camden. We just met. I’ve never even been with another man. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.”
“Well, sorry for mucking up your plans,” I snap. “I didn’t exactly plan for this.”
“But you can stop it!”
“No, I bloody can’t, Indie! It’s not a fucking valve I can shut off.”
I stand up, no longer giving a shit how much space she needs. I yank the other dining chair from its place and slam it down in front of her. When I sit, my knees graze her toes. In response, she squeezes her legs to her chest like a shield of armour.
Ready to lay all my shit bare, I pierce her with my eyes and say, “I want you, Indie. For more than five days. I want what I feel when I’m with you.”
“Camden—”
“Bloody hell, I’m falling for you!” I yell. My breath sputters out fast and ragged as the words tumble out and suspend in the air, floating…and then drifting…and then sinking as her eyes blaze fire against them.
“You hardly know me.” Her tone is contrite and it enrages me.
Through clenched teeth, I rebuff, “I know enough to know that I’ve never cared about anything like this in my life. Nothing, Indie. Nothing has felt like this. Do you hear what I’m saying? Because it takes a lot for me to admit that right now. I feel like…I feel like…” I rake my hand through my hair, trying to find the right words.
“Like what?” she snaps, losing a chink of her armour.
“Like I’ve been playing pretend my whole life!” I throw my hands out and slide closer to her. My hands shake from the ache I feel to hold her. To embrace her. To make her understand. To break down this unapologetic wall she has built around her. I reach out to touch her but stop myself. My voice is low and urgent. “When I compare my feelings for you to my feelings foreverything else, they’re so different.”
As if completely oblivious to the insanity coursing through my veins, she groans, “No, Cam.”
“Yes, Indie.”
“No.”
“YES!” I shout and make a move to kiss her. The heels of her hands slam against my chest, stopping my momentum. Cupping her face, I look at her pleadingly. “I’ve given you the tools to juggle, Specs. Just juggle already.”
Her eyes are wide and accusing as they flick back and forth between mine. “That isnotwhat my pun meant. And stop calling me that!”
“Puns can have all sorts of meanings. That’s the beauty of them.” Her defensive hands soften when I lean in. “Why can’t you consider, even for a second, that you might like me, too?”
“Because I don’t, Camden. Not like that.”
“Indie,” I exhale, pulling my hands from her face and clutching hers to my heart. “I’m wide open on the table, bleeding all over the bloody place. Stop holding back and feel this.” My heart pounds beneath her touch, drumming away with anxiety.
With desperation.
With hope.
“Feel me,” I croak, my shaky voice revealing how anguished I am.
