Page 90 of Hawthorne

Charlie looks down, embarrassed he has been caught in the lies.

“That’s a lie. But it’s fine. In the end, it was the best thing he could ever have done for the both of us.” Charlie’s eyes snap up, and he focuses on me as I continue, “We were young and didn’t know what love was. It would have never worked out anyway, hierarchy or not.”

He looks away, and I swear a bit of pain flashes through them just before he does. The moving lights of the club don’t allow me to read his expressions down to a T, but the proximity of the booth does give space for a little studying.

With a sigh, I look down at my water glass, grabbing it.It’s time to leave.

Rachel elbows me, and when I look at her questioningly, she bulges her eyes.

Unaware of what she’s trying to tell me, I take a sip of my cold water. If she’s trying to get me to peg down a little, I won’t. Call it liquor courage—even though I barely drank tonight—or after-hours courage, but after years of being reminded of my low place in society, this is the last place I wanted to hear about it.

There goes a night of fun and friends reconnecting.

Since the long silence turns awkward, I excuse myself, telling them I need to head to the restrooms again. I don’t—not really—but every excuse is good to leave them. That reminds me...I need one to get home right after that pointless bathroom visit.

This time around, I take the long walk, going around the dance floor instead of cutting right through the sea of people. Once I arrive in the restroom hallway, I can only place my hand on the doorknob before I am grabbed and pulled into another door right next to it.

I startle with a small scream before a strong hand covers it. The smell that fills my nostrils relaxes me right away.

Once he’s sure I am not screaming anymore, his hand moves, meeting the other one on my hips. Inside, it’s dark, and my eyes take a while to adjust, however, my brain doesn’t.

I know just by the familiar scent and touch that the person burying his nose into my neck is no other than Vincent Hawthorne.

“Cami?” His voice comes out rough, sharp, and bitter, letting me know how much he doesn’t like the nickname.

“Camilla,” I correct him.

Turning me around, he flushes our chests together. his hands wander dangerously lower, reach my bum, and tighten, squeezing my flesh. I gasp. As a response, my back arches towards him as his shortened breath rises from my neck to my ear.

“I would have appreciated knowing that your ex is my best friend’s little brother.”

His voice is low and menacing, worse than all the other times he threw a fit. It makes me as excited as it makes me hesitant about what his intentions are.

“I didn’t know,” I pant due to his lips grazing against my jawline. “Am I...not supposed...to be on my days...off? What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” he grumbles.

The words that come out of his mouth, and the way he’s saying them, hit deep inside me, pulling at all the strings, all the ones that go from my heart downwards, towards my core.

“Vincent,” I sigh, feeling defeated.

My brain is a mess. Jumbled and conflicting thoughts keep me from saying anything else, and it only encourages him to bring his hands up while he backs me up against a wall.

The thud of the impact is muffled by the strong music that penetrates through the thin wall. And while he is being rough with his movements and touches, it doesn’t hurt.

What hurts instead is inside my body. My chest.My heart.

With every graze and squeeze, my skin tingles, and all rationality abandons me. All there is is Vincent, invading my personal space and spiking my blood pressure. One of his hands tangles itself in my hair at the back of my head, forcing me to look at him. It stings, and I moan in response.

The other hand plays in the middle of my chest, palm right over my heart while his fingers graze part of my collarbone and the base of my neck.

“Your heart is racing.” He rasps, breath hitting my mouth directly, and I moan at the sensuality in his voice. “Your body is so responsive to me. Was it like this with him?”

I tense, and my eyes snap open in bewilderment. His words wash over me like a bucket of freezing water, and I proceed to try to free myself from his hold.

Instead, he tightens it with one of his hands, snaking into the back of my neck and holding me still, forcing me to look at him. It still doesn’t hurt, but it’s strong enough to not let me move much.

“How dare you–”

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