Page 75 of Fractured Souls
When he does come out of the shower my heart lurches into my throat. The ridges of his abs seem more prominent. His skin has this freshly showered softness to it, and because my eyeballs are mean, I trace the line of his happy trail. “Eyes up here, Bobo.”
He stumbles to my bed, falling on top of it, and I plug in his nightlight then shut the main one off. “Here, drink this please.” I help him lift up a bit and watch him drink the glass of water. He’s minutes from crashing out. “I’m going to sleep on the couch. Please don’t puke in my bed.” I tuck him in, ready to put some space between us.
I stop, turning to watch him. “I want to try, I just don’t know how,” he whispers.
It sinks in now; I’m not sure why. This is the problem, right here. “We shouldn’t have to try, Cam. It should be easy.” I grip the doorknob . . . this is killing me. “You’re very drunk. Go to sleep.”
“I didn’t fuck her.”
Amira. “Good for you.”
“I just hooked up with that one guy,” he confesses, like I don’t already know. I don’t want to hear this. “It was awful.”
“Cam, I don’t want to talk about how you got blow-jobbed by someone else right now.”
“I had to think about you to finish.”Oh my fucking god.
He’s drunk. Just drunk. “Go to sleep, Cam.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“I’d rather you not.”
His eyes shut slowly. “I think . . .” He rolls onto his side, fisting the blankets around his body. He better not puke in my bed! Ialmost think he’s fallen asleep. “I've never felt like this. What's happening to me?”
I stand frozen for I’m not sure how long. I stand and watch him. Even when his breaths turn to chainsaw revving snores, I watch him. Finally I let go, leaving him to sleep and walking into the living room.
My eyes burn. I’m shaking.
This is not good; this is not right. While I should be happy, all I feel is dread because that should be a happy thing, only it’s not. Not if it’s making him so confused. Not if it’s making him drink. This is killing us both, and I need to put an end to it. I love Cam more than anything, but I love his friendship more. I can’t lose that, and this is slowly tearing us apart.
So I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, then I grab my phone and text Noah.
Okay, I’m in. I want to meet Sawyer.
Chapter 20
Cam
WatchingBoweninfrontof the mirror, I’m trying to wrestle my feelings. He hasn’t really talked to me since Sunday when I came home super drunk. Most of the time he pretends to be busy working on music, or with Noah. I still need to thank Amira for getting me home safe. I’m so embarrassed. I keep fucking up. “You look really good.” Bowen’s eyes scrunch in a scowl at me through the mirror. “What’s wrong?”
He sighs, shaking his head. “It’s nothing. Just nerves. That’s all.”
“Have you met this guy yet?” Ew, that tastes terrible. I don’t know why I’m so messed up about this right now. I want Bo to be happy, and this could be the path to that. After everything he’s been through with me he deserves this.
A knock sounds on his door. “Can you get that?”
Getting up, I walk to the door expecting just Noah—who is there—but what I don’t expect is the beautiful woman standing awkwardly with him. Opening the door, I smile at Amira. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She looks down at Noah, who is not-so-subtly glaring at her. “Uh, sorry, don’t want to intrude, I just wanted to give this back to you.” She hands me my sweatshirt. Not quite sure when I took it off, but I know how this looks. Noah’s glare swings to me as I take it from her. “I wanted to give you a few days to recover some of your dignity.”
I bark out a laugh then feel heat on the back of my neck, and turn to see Bowen subtly rolling his eyes. Okay, nothing fucking happened between us at all. Well, besides me getting absolutely ass-faced drunk. My head just stopped throbbing like an hour ago.
“Here, come in. They’re just about to leave.” I let them both in—Noah, who storms past me to Bo, and Amira who does this awkward little rocking motion on her heels, not really knowing where she stands and why my best friend’s new friend is glaring at her. Now that I think of it, why was he glaring at her? “Sorry about the other night,” I say quietly.
She’s dressed in a pretty black dress that hugs her curves, and a jade necklace hangs around her neck. Her thick black hair is pulled up into a messy bun with her curtain bangs falling around her face.
She’s fucking stunning.
