Page 70 of Lucky Star

“I looked like such an asshole, didn’t I?” he asked, scratching at his stubble as his eyes darted away guiltily. “But it wasn’t like that, I promise.”

The only thing that’d saved him from my wrath for inviting me along as a third wheel on his romantic weekend with a legitimate lingerie model was the fact that he’d ignored Shayna pretty much the whole night. After dinner, we’d gone to a club where he and I had danced almost every song together.

“It doesn’t matter now.” That weekend was ancient history, and not worth dredging up. And honestly, I hadn’t expected Cameron to have been celibate just because I’d been too chicken to tell him how I felt.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to go if I was planning on being with someone else right under your nose. I wouldn’t do that to the woman I loved.” Hi eyes searched mine for a second before he continued, “And besides, I wanted you to stay in our room so that I could spend the night with you.”

My eyebrows rose in skepticism.

“Not like that,” he answered, then grinned cheekily. “Although I wouldn’t have said no if you’d have come onto me. I just wanted to spend time with you. I wanted to pretend like I was there with you instead of what’s her name.”

“I’m sure the beautiful Shayna loved that. There I was cock blocking her all night, and she had no idea why.”

He took my hand in his and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. “I’d hoped to convince you to go on a sunrise hike at Red Rocks with me.”

“Bullshit.” I was willing to accept that he’d wanted to hang out with me, but you didn’t go hiking out in the middle of the desert on a whim.

He dropped my hand, and pulled out his phone, his thumb swiping over the screen. “There it is,” he said, passing me the device while he stared at me expectantly.

He’d pulled up an email that confirmed a sunrise hike for from an adventure group that specialized in desert expeditions.

“I didn’t sleep with Shayna. Ever.” He swallowed and flicked his eyes away. “When I dropped you off at your room after the club, I texted Mike. When he didn’t respond, I went upstairs, figuring I’d just sleep on the couch. But then I opened the door and realized why he hadn’t answered my texts.”

“Let me guess; Mike mistakenly took Patrice back to your suite and they were going at it?”

To anyone else, that scenario might have seemed far-fetched, but that wouldn’t have been the first time Mike had gotten drunk and wandered into Cameron’s room instead of his own.

“Close, but not quite,” Cameron said, pulling me toward him. Locking his arms around my waist, he trapped me within his solid heat. “Mike was doing Patrice from behind while Shayna was perched on top of the couch with Patrice’s face between her thighs.”

My jaw dropped, and I broke out laughing because (a), I’d obviously read the entire situation wrong, and (b) Mike was the undisputed king of threesomes. I didn’t understand it myself, but the man was a legend when it came to that sort of thing.

“Full on porno style,” Cameron added, joining in my laughter. “I stood there for a few seconds watching because … well, you know … it was pretty fucking hot. Before I could sneak out, he looked over at me—and without breaking his stride—told me to take the key to his room because he had zero plans to leave mine.”

Okay, so Cameron hadn’t slept with Shayna. But he’d had other girlfriends during the past year. I sifted through my memories, jumping forward a month or so after that weekend in Vegas.

“What about Monica then?”

He scrunched up his face in confusion, and then his eyebrows raised in understanding. “Ah, you mean Matika.”

“Monica, Matika—whatever.”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “Not her either.”

“Liar,” I snorted. “I saw you kissing her.”

“When did you see me kiss her?” he asked incredulously. “I told you, I wouldn’t have done anything like that in front of you.”

“I stopped by to pick you up for something, and when I walked past your front window, I watched you swallow her face through the curtains.” In a fit of nervousness, I tugged down my bun and then twisted it back up again. I was really beginning to hate this conversation.

His lips hitched to the right and he shook his head again. “This is going to sound like such a lie, but she was my partner in an acting workshop and what you saw was us rehearsing a scene.

“You’re right; that does sound like a lie.”

“Scout’s honor,” he said, raising three fingers.

“I know you dated, Cameron. I don’t begrudge you that.”

He lifted a challenging eyebrow.

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