Page 56 of Keep Me

Camille’s mouth twists, silvery eyes narrowed at me. “Boo you for being such a gentleman.”

I stifle a laugh and ask for her floor number, which I realize is just the next one up. Once we get into her place, I set her on her feet and take in the space around me. The layout looks similar to Elio’s, but this screams Camille with all the pops of bright colors everywhere.

“Do you want anything to drink? Maybe coffee or tea?” she asks, practically skipping into her kitchen.

“No, thank you,” I say, coming up behind her as she preps her French press.

“I need a coffee and a croissant before bed. They’ll help me sober up a bit,” she explains and begins making herself a coffee.

She does her thing, munching on a croissant she pulls from a bakery container, intriguing me when she starts making latte art that she’s oddly good at doing. She puts the finishing touch on the flower she’s made.

“Pretty interesting talent you got there,” I murmur, resting my chin on her shoulder as I admire her artwork.

Camille leans into me, resting her head against mine. “My nanny taught it to me. It’s pretty useless honestly, but it’s my MJ.”

“What’s an MJ?”

She turns to face me, jumping onto her countertop and taking her baseball mug into her hand. “A mini joy, little things that bring me a spark. So for me, that’s latte art, gardening, boxing…”

“What about a BJ?”

“I would consider blow jobs a mini joy…”

I bark out a laugh at that, which causes her to smile so damn brightly that I want to laugh more just for her to smile at me like that again.

“I like where your mind went, but that’s not what I meant. What’s a big joy for you?”

Camille ponders my question, taking a few sips of her coffee before answering.

“Connecting with people. It’s something I didn’t get much of growing up. Of course, we had public relations events like balls and fundraisers where I got to meet people. But none of it was real. It was all for show or for some other purpose than just for getting to know someone for who they were. I think that’s why I enjoy doing content for the team so much because it combines my love of baseball and connecting with people. It’s fun and refreshing, two things I missed out on a lot at the palace,” she tells me.

“That’s beautiful,” I reply honestly.

“Thanks, now tell me what’s your MJ and BJ?” She waggles her brows at me with a seductive smile on her lips.

I can’t help it. I lean in and kiss her, but pull away just as quickly. Camille leaves her arms wrapped around my neck, and I step in closer so that I’m now between her legs.

“My big joy is baseball. It’s the one place where I feel centered and at peace. My mini joys would be tattooing, riding my bike, and movie nights with my mom.”

“I love those.” Her fingers trail down my chest, making me shiver. “Speaking of tattoos, can I look at yours?”

I should say no, but I can’t do that when it comes to this girl. I lift the bottom of my sweater and tug it over my head since most of my tattoos are on my upper body.

“Wow,” she breathes as her fingers trace the designs going up my arm.

Silence falls over us as her fingers skate up to my shoulder and down to my chest where there’s a large piece across it. It’s filled with intricate line designs, with small things I love woven in between. There’s a pair of Mickey Mouse ears for my mom, a paw print of the dog I had when I was a kid, and right over my heart is a baseball.

Camille’s fingers run across each one, her gaze focused and undeterred. “This is beautiful,” she whispers as her thumb strokes over my heart, and then she peers up at me. “You’re beautiful.”

Her words make my stomach flutter, raising my concerns that I must be getting sick because what the hell is that shit?

I tug my lips up to the right, then toss my sweater back over my head. “Thank you.”

“I want more tattoos. Can we go to the studio now?” Her eyes sparkle as her fingers run up and down my stomach. If I had keys to the shop, I might’ve actually said yes.

“Not today, princess,” I tell her, stopping her fingers when they get to the waistband of my jeans. “Finish your coffee and let’s get you to bed.”

She oddly does as I say, finishing up her cup and placing the mug in the sink. Grabbing my hand, she leads me to her room where she heads to the en suite bathroom to change and wash her face.

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