Page 39 of Cam Girl

“You were taking a shower,” Soren grunts. “Did you use up all my shampoo?”

Aiden swallows back a chuckle.

If Soren isn’t careful, he’ll annoy me to the point where I have no choice but to fight back, out of spite and a warped sense of principle.

Now I want to double down and tell him again that I have as much right to be here at the cabin as they do. Eventhough they are blood related to my stepfather and I’m not.

Our parents have a happy marriage. It was an obstacle course to get there for them, and people got hurt, but it has nothing to do with me.

It boils down to Love, capital L.

Is it always worth the risk? Is it always worth the cost?

I wonder as I grab the mug I used yesterday from the drying rack beside the sink. Personally, I can’t say one way or the other. For our parents, it certainly was worth it.

I’ve never had the kind of good luck others have in love. I’ve still got time, sure, because I’m young enough to have the opportunities to get out there and meet people, if I stop working myself to death.

I pour my cup three-quarters full of coffee and cross to the fridge to generously lighten the black brew with creamer.

It’s my terrible track record with men. No matter how badly I want to connect, or how hard I try, I’ve got issues. When you hate yourself…you project it outwardly even when a part of you is screaming to stop.

Men leave. Why would they want to stay?

How can they love me when I can’t love myself?

Abandonment is always imminent, and because I expect them to leave, because I wait for it, they eventually do. End of story. So I’ve carved out a cozy little life for myself all by myself.

I turn and lean against the counter.

“She’s not going to answer you, Aiden,” Soren says, his voice filtering through the noise in my head. “She’s clearly not paying attention.”

“Maybe she’s got some great stories going on in that brain,” Aiden retorts.

“I might be distracted but I’m not deaf,” I say dryly. “I hear you talking about me.”

“Ah, there she is.” Soren is brisk.

“You’re telling me you never get lost in your own head?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I can’t afford to. My clients understand that if I’m not present, they don’t get the best deals or they lose their first choice of property. They lose money.”

“Oh, right. You’re in real estate.”

It feels good to know something about him. Something he clearly doesn’t expect me to know from the way he stiffens further.

“I suppose your mother told you that.” He spits out the words.

My mother.

Like he loathes her just as much as he loathes me, or maybe I’m guilty by association.

“You must be very lucky because most people I’ve talked to occasionally get distracted. No matter their line of work,” I reply. “No one can operate at your level of efficiency.”

“Fucking A right.”

“Don’t let him shit you,” Aiden mutters, accepting Soren’s offered spatula scoop of runny yellow. “He burned the first round of eggs because he wasn’t paying attention. Something about a heron out on the lake.”

Soren unceremoniously dumps the pan over Aiden’s plate. “Screw you. This isn’t about me.”

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