Page 53 of Things We Tell Ourselves

The surrounding Sacramento lights feel overbearing compared to Leah’s romantic aerial view of a bustling city. The buildings are too close, but the balcony beyond the glass has a treetop view of McKinley Park.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” Wade asks, pushing open the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony.

“I’m good,” she says, walking through the balcony door.

Her back to him at the door, she raises her hand up to her mouth, ducking her head a little to check her breath. A cool breeze sweeps over her, but it’s not strong enough for her to ignore the fact that she needs a mint. Hearing Wade walking up behind her, she shoves her hands in the pockets of her blazer tightening, it around her. He places his hands on the top of Camille’s shoulders.

“There must be a cold front coming in,” he mutters, rubbing his hands down the back of her arm. “You want to go inside?”

She is tired, but that’s not why she wants to go inside. “I would love to brush my teeth.”

Wade’s hands drop from her arms.

“I think I can dig up a spare toothbrush.”

He turns for the living room. She follows him inside, watching him shut and lock the sliding door.

“It’s a three-bedroom, but there’s only furniture in two of the upstairs bedrooms, so you do have the option to sleep in your own room.”

She walks down the hallway past the kitchen, keeping her face calm and collected, trying to decide how maidenly she should play this. They get to the master bathroom through the bedroom at the end of the hall. Wade goes straight to a drawer, pulling out a brand-new, red toothbrush. Next to the spacious sink is a see-through, three-headed shower. Around the shower is a large basin tub with an antique-style faucet.

“I haven’t had a chance to try it out yet,” he says, seeing her admiring the bathtub.

“I would volunteer, but I don’t have a spare change of clothes,” she croons, and it dawns on her that if she stays here tonight, she’ll have to do the walk of shame when they get back to L.A.

He takes out his toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste, turning to her. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”

Camille gives him a skeptical look. She wants to ask him why she has extra clothes to offer her. She also wants to kiss him. Instead, she turns to face the sink. She brushes her teeth quickly, feeling a growing sense of unease having him right there, brushing his teeth with her. If she doesn’t kiss him soon, she’ll chicken out. He leans over to spit as soon as he sees her finishing.

“I’ll give you a minute,” he utters, throwing his toothbrush in the top drawer.

He spins around before she can say otherwise, leaving her alone in the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Camille looks around. She was going to kiss him but…

Was that his way of telling her that she needed to fix herself up?

She checks herself in the mirror, running her fingers through her hair. What was she even doing? She looks fine. Her gaze drifts across the spacious master bath. The bathroom alone probably costs more than the home where she grew up. She immediately chastises herself for thinking about her parents and walks over to the toilet. The outer rim has lights built-in and a bidet.

Maybe the toilet is worth more than her parent’s first home.

Why was she doing this to herself? Reminding herself of his wealth only makes her feel less worthy of being here with him. And his looks… God, what was he doing with her?

“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” she chants, finishing quickly and hurrying to the sink.

She washes her hands, leaving her toothbrush on the edge of the sink. One last look in the bathroom mirror. This is as good as it’s going to get. She plasters on a smile, walking out of the bathroom.

Wade appears to be having trouble figuring out what to do with himself, looking around at the foot of the bed where he’s standing. The comforter in front of him is wrinkled where it was previously untouched. It appears that he has been sitting or quite possibly laying on the bed before she walked out.

He runs a hand over the front of his polo. Hearing her walk in, he spins around. His face mirrors the same nervous anxiety that’s coursing through her.

“We don’t have to—” that’s all he gets out.

Seeing him and his handsome, charming face, she strides up to him as soon as he opens his mouth, throwing her arms around his neck. If she’s going to do this and man, does she want to do this, there can be no discussion.

Her lips find his, just as desperate to be kissed.

Seventeen

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