Page 50 of The Pucking Wrong Man

I scrambled off his lap, ignoring the giant bulge between his legs as I moved—and this time he let me.

“Can you drop me off at the corner of Clark and Fourth Street. Please.” I wasn’t going to let him see the shelter, but there was no way that I could get there on foot or public transportation and make it in time. That address was just around the corner from it.

“Of course,” he said, not sounding happy about it.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “If you have somewhere to go, it’s okay.” It wouldn’t be the first time that I’d missed curfew. A night on the streets wouldn’t kill me.

Probably.

Camden scoffed. “I don’t need to go anywhere,” he told me firmly, but he still didn’t seem happy as he drove through the streets, not even needing to reference a GPS to get to the address I’d given him. He must know this city well.

The address was an apartment building about two blocks from the shelter. I’d used it before when I’d had to get rides in the past. “This is your place?” Camden asked, peering up at the building like it had personally offended him.

What was his deal? I know it wasn’t a McMansion, like where he probably lived. But still, it was perfectly nice.

Not that I actually lived there, of course.

I could only imagine what he’d think of where I really lived. He’d probably drive away screaming.

I snorted at that thought, and Camden raised an eyebrow.

How did he make that look so sexy?

A quick glance at the clock told me I only had minutes to spare.

“I’ve got to go,” I told him, instead of actually answering. For some reason, there was a part of me that didn’t want to lie to him.

“I’ll walk you in,” he said, moving to open his door.

“That’s okay!” I squeaked. “My neighbor is kind of a psycho. Hears a mouse fart at forty feet. If she hears us, she’ll report me.”

OMG. DID I REALLY JUST SAY MOUSE FART?

Just let me die now.

Please.

Camden’s face was carefully blank for a long moment. Maybe he hadn’t heard me?

Suddenly he burst out laughing, the sound of it wrapping around me like everything I never knew I needed. I couldn’t help but laugh too, even though I wanted to find the nearest hole and jump in it.

I opened my door, and his laughter abruptly cut off, his face becoming solemn once more. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby girl. Can I send a car?”

Inwardly scoffing again, I pictured a private car rolling up to the shelter. I could only imagine what people would think if I coasted down the steps and got in.

“That’s alright,” I said, wincing as I remembered the unfortunate dinner plans I also had before the game.

Camden bit down on his lip, looking like he wanted to argue with me, and I had the sudden urge to bite back.

Down girl.

He reached out, doing that thing where he stroked my cheek like I was everything to him.

“See you later, little dancer,” he murmured as I finally got out of the car.

And I loved that it sounded like a promise.

I pretended to go into the lobby, glad this place wasn’t manned by a doorman. I couldn’t go up to any of the floors, obviously, since I didn’t have a keycard, but thankfully Camden pulled away when I walked to the elevators.

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