Page 8 of SALT

I watch as she adjusts the towel on her arm. "Again, what do you suddenly have against parties?"

"You're living under my roof, which makes you my responsibility."

"Your responsibility?" she questions bemused. "You were just about to kick me out."

Her ice-blue eyes connect with mine and do things to my stomach. Why does responsibility suddenly somehow feel like a claim that isn't mine to take? Either way, I made a promise to my best friend that I'd watch over his daughter, that I'd keep her safe. It's not her fault I gave her father my word or that I'm now a divorced man who notices things he shouldn't. I'm angry with myself enough for the both of us that I have impure thoughts of her at all and even more indignant that I haven't been able to find the strength to push them out.

I step around the island, putting more distance between us. "Look, I don't need to explain myself to you. But this summer, I have a lot on my plate between working at the stadium and the firm. I don't need to come home to my house filled with strangers. You, of all people, should know how important helping Connor is to me."

"Okay," she starts, but I cut her off once more because I want to get everything out and be done with this madness.

"I want you home by midnight every night. No exceptions."

"Everett, what am I, seventeen? You can't be serious."

I place my hands on the island and dare to meet her eyes again. "Dead serious. I don't need to lose sleep wondering where you are or who you're with, and I don't need the noise that comes with those late-night entries, which leads me to my next rule. No boys in the house." She removes the damp towel I placed on her arm, and I drop my gaze and grip the ledge hard, fighting my desire to go over there and put it back on.

"This is absurd. Why can't I have guy friends over?"

"Easy. I don't know what's happening under my roof when I'm not here or while you're off in another room. I don't need you pregnant and unmarried on my watch."

"First of all, I'm not a virgin. If it's my virtue you're trying to protect, it's a little too late. Second, this is total bullshit."

"Watch your mouth, Cameron."

"Oh, now I can't curse either."

"Not when you're speaking to me."

"Fine." She slaps her hands on the counter, leaning in, her light pink crop top highlighting her braless, erect nipples. "I'll speak in terms I know you'll understand. Your rules are a double standard because of my gender. Connor was never subjected to these same rules when he was living here."

"You're not wrong, but it has nothing to do with your gender. When I had Connor under my roof, I had a wife helping me raise him. I clearly no longer have that."

The way her eyebrow quirks up tells me my rules may not be the answer I'd hoped they'd be, but I don't dare backtrack now. I said what I said. It doesn't have to be fair. My house, my rules. Picking up the dish towel she threw down, she turns around and grabs the cake pan from the counter behind her only to set it down on the island and slide it toward me. "Cake?"

"Sure..." I say pensively.

"Here, let me get you a fork." I watch as she grabs a fork and walks around the island, setting it down next to the pan.

"You're not having any?"

"Oh, I baked the cake. I can't eat it too." Then, grabbing the water bottle she was drinking, she sets it down on the other side of the pan. "In case you choke on your misogyny."

Turning on her heel, she exits the kitchen. "Cameron," I call out after her though I know it's useless. She's not going to come back, and I have yet another interaction I could have handled better to add to my ever-growing list. The woman manages to steal all my rational thoughts when I'm in her vicinity. Fucking hell. She could just move out. However, I know she won't. I just made this a game for her.

Chapter 6

Cameron

"How is it possible I have nothing to wear!" I screech as I storm out of my walk-in closet and head toward my bed, shooting Mac a text.

Cameron: You said it's just the family, right?

I blow out a breath and hope she's by her phone. Dinner is at 4 pm which means I'm supposed to be there in fifteen minutes.

Mac: Yes, Connor is grilling.

Cameron: What are you wearing?

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