Page 15 of Best Part of Me

She gives me an appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” I reach around her and snatch her phone from the bathroom counter before slapping it into her hand. “Call your dad.”

She flashes me a defiant look, and my heart lurches. I don’t want to fight her on this. I don’t want to fight her on anything. The last thing I want is to be like that bastard Chris and tell her what to do.

Her lips twist before she relents, and my shoulders relax as she presses her phone to her ear. I try not to eavesdrop, but my apartment isn’t very big, so I fail. I overhear Cammie tell her dad that she’s safe and she’ll be okay. But she doesn’t disclose her location.

I exhale and go into my room, giving her a bit of privacy. The suit pants are uncomfortably tight, especially with my permanent hard-on. I dress in something roomier but probably the most unattractive thing—gray sweatpants. Yanking the tie over my head, I unbutton and remove the dress shirt before tugging on a plain black T-shirt.

Music streams from my Bluetooth speaker in the living room. The smooth voices of Dan + Shay gets my skin heated. I’m a bit cautious as I step out of my bedroom. I just know Cammie is going to give me shit for having their music on my Spotify playlists. What I don’t want to explain to her is that they’ve grown on me since I learned she loves their band.

But as soon as my gaze lands on her, my words lodge in my throat, and I nearly stop dead. Cammie is sitting on my sofa, her back pressed against the arm and her sexy legs outstretched, ankles crossed. It’s nothing entirely new. She’s been to my place before, sat in that same exact spot and position too.

But tonight, like this, and with the sexual tension so thick between us, it has me on the verge of saying to hell with the blood pact. I’ve wanted Cammie for years, but this is the first time it fucking feels like it might be possible. I’m hyperaware of every movement I make, every beat of my heart, every breath from my lungs.

“I refilled our glasses again. I hope you don’t mind.” She holds up the bottle of whiskey.

“No, of course not. Help yourself to whatever you want.”

My choice of words in this moment is not lost on me. But I mean it; she can help herself to whatever she wants.

Preferably me.

Her beautiful blue eyes dance over me, and my dick twitches. I adjust the waist of my sweatpants, feeling exposed and almost regretting my wardrobe choice. Except she’s looking at me, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. Tonight is the first time ever, I want her to know just how badly I want her.

Over the years, I’ve had an inkling Cammie might be interested in me. But the constant six-foot wedge—Jones—between us forced me to keep my distance and never find out. And I don’t think she’s had a fucking clue that I’ve been interested in her. Maybeinterestedisn’t the correct word.

Captivated. Obsessed. Infatuated.

With Chris out of the picture, her staying the night, and Jones thinking she’s somewhere else, this is my chance to finally confess. And maybe even act on these cravings. If I’m feeling daring enough.

“After the life-altering decision I just made, I’m gonna need all the alcohol you got.” She gives me a weak smile.

My heart jolts in my chest. Maybe whiskey wasn’t a good idea. Cammie gets flirty after she’s had even an ounce of alcohol.

But she’s not wrong; I imagine her decision wreaked havoc for a lot of people today. I’m not positive I have enough whiskey to cure the repercussions something like that causes.

“How about we start with that bottle and go from there?” I suggest.

“Come and sit with me.” Her sultry gaze draws me in.

I obey her command. I’d obey all her commands.

Accepting the glass she offers, I sit in the small space between her feet and the opposite side of the sofa. Just because I’ve fucked a lot of women doesn’t necessarily mean Cammie wants me anymore. I may be confident, but I’m not egotistical. Cammie is smart, beautiful, compassionate, and so far out of my league that I can’t wrap my fucking imagination around picturing the two of us together.

Even in my wildest fantasies, we don’t end up together. Cammie doesn’t only deserve the sun, moon, and stars, she deserves the whole damn solar system. When I’m in her presence, instead of being arrogant like I typically am with women, she makes me want to be a better version of myself. There’s no one else in my life who gives me that feeling.

When I’m with Cammie, I’m the guy she sees when she looks at me. And not the fuck boy I am when I’m at the bar with Jones as my wing-man.

“So, how’d it go with your dad?”

Her eyes flick away while she tugs a bobby pin from her hair. “I didn’t tell him I was here, but I told him I was okay and I was safe so he wouldn’t worry. And when I said I was sorry and asked if he was okay, he told me my happiness is most important to him.”

“I’m not surprised. Your dad is good people.” I gulp my whiskey, the burn down my throat a welcome chastening.

“He is.” She smiles at me while she tugs more bobby pins free, her hair falling in separate strands with each tug.

I can’t help but wonder how long it must’ve taken for someone to put each of those pins in her hair that morning and how quickly it is to undo. And like the horndog that I am, my mind goes straight to a visual of her hair dragging down my chest.

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