Page 131 of Story of My Life
“We’re in complete agreement. I don’t want a relationship with you, and I don’t want to be the center of any more weird town gossip. From what I’ve learned about this place so far, whoever dates you would end up splashed across the Neighborly app every damn day. I’m here to write a story, not star in one. Besides, being in a secret sexcapade has got to be inspiring, right? I mean, I already outlined three scenes in my head while Breeony here talks about how hard it is being beautifulandrich,” she said, pointing to the pouty blond on the screen who was blinking back tears.
“What about Zoey? You two are close,” I said.
“I trust Zoey with my life. However, if you don’t want her to know, she won’t find out from me. Besides, if she found out, she’d probably corner you and threaten your life if she thought you were distracting me from writing.”
“That sounds like Zoey,” I admitted. “My brothers would be pains in the ass about it. When they found out we kissed?—”
“You told your brothers wekissed?” Hazel repeated on a near shriek.
“Uh, no?”
“Campbell! Did they freak out on you? I bet they freaked out on you,” she predicted. “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t really. They kept flirting with you and?—”
“They weren’t flirting with me! They were interacting with me like human beings do, Cam! So you thought you’d do what? Mark your territory?” She clapped her hands to her face.
“No.” Yes.
She groaned. “What did they say?”
“They weren’t exactly happy. They voiced some ‘concerns.’”
“No shit, Sherlock. Let me guess. They think starting something with me would endanger the remodel, which would in turn endanger your family business and, by extension, your actual family.”
“You’re weirdly good at this.”
“At what? Freaking out?” she demanded, throwing her head back against the seat of the couch.
“No, at understanding people.”
“I create and manipulate fictional ones all the time. It kind of translates.”
“I’m not going to tell them about…this,” I promised.
“Does it even matter at this point? They probably already think I’m basically paying you for physical affection. Instead of writing a check for the next deposit, I’ll just leave cash on your nightstand.”
“You’re not paying me for sex. And I won’t tell them about this. Especially not after they basically threatened my life to leave you the hell alone.”
She snorted. “And you had the gall to think I was going to demand a relationship with you.”
“I didn’t have the gall. I had theconcern, and Icommunicatedthat concern,” I insisted.
She blew out a breath that had her bangs puffing up in the air. “Okay. What’s done is done. We can’t do anything about you and your big mouth or the fact that we just had a whole bunch of sex. What we can do is make sureno onefinds out.”
“No one will,” I said with unfounded confidence. Secrets in Story Lake were like leftovers stored in a margarine container. They didn’t keep.
“Game faces when we’re around each other,” she said. “No lusty eyes or winking or long, lingering looks.”
“No staring at my crotch like you’re hungry.”
“No admiring my braless boobs.”
“No not wearing a bra when my brothers are in the house,” I countered.
“That’s an unfair standard. Instead of making me dress in a less distracting way, why don’t we insist men just learn to control where their eyes go?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay. Fine. How about until we develop a national gender-wide training program, I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t remind me how perfect your breasts are when we’re not alone?”
