Page 110 of Melt for You (Slow Burn 2)
Hopefully yours,
M.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“Holy cow,” I whisper, staring at the computer screen in disbelief. “I got the position!”
I leap out of bed where I’ve been sitting with my laptop, run through my apartment, and throw open the front door. I pound a fist on Cam’s apartment door like I’m the landlord and he’s three months late with the rent.
“Cam! Are you home? Open up!”
A muffled, “Comin’!” and then he opens the door, barefoot, wearing what appears to be a woman’s robe. It’s pink terrycloth, about ten sizes too small, edged in white lace at the wrists and collar.
“Um . . .”
“What?” He looks down at himself. “Oh, this? It was in Kellen’s closet. Looked comfy.” He shrugs. “It is comfy. “
“I admire that for such a big, manly man, you have very open ideas about gender-specific clothing.”
He scoffs. “Whoever made that rule that pink is only for girls is dumb. I’ll have you know, pink is very flatterin’ to my complexion.”
It actually is, but I don’t have time for this conversation. “Moving on—I got the promotion! You’re looking at the newest associate editor at Maddox Publishing!” I jump up and down in glee, doing a little skipping dance and waving my hands like a drugged-out mime.
“Really? That’s fantastic, lass! Good for you! You just found out?”
“Yes, Michael emailed me the news! I’m not supposed to tell anyone until after the first of the year when they make the formal announcement, but I had to tell you. Oh God, wait until my mother hears—she’ll freak out!”
“You told me before you told your mum?”
I stop jumping up and down and make a face at him. “Why do I feel like that’s going to be followed with a lecture about how much I’m in love with you, but I just don’t realize it yet?”
“Because you are, and you don’t.” He closes his door and ambles past me. “This calls for a celebration. You have any of that dark beer you bought for me left?”
He disappears into my apartment. I follow him, shaking my head at the picture he makes. No matter what he’s wearing—or isn’t wearing—the man doesn’t have an ounce of self-consciousness. “Your ego is your superpower, you know that, prancer?”
Cam flops onto my sofa, lies back, and crosses his legs at the ankle. He looks like an MMA wrestler wearing his daughter’s princess robe. “Oh, no, lass, that’s not my superpower.” He winks at me, grinning.
“You’re never gonna let me forget I saw you naked, are you?”
“I’ll forget it as soon as you do. So no, never.”
Ignoring him, I go into the kitchen, fish a beer from the fridge, pop the top off it, and pour it into a glass. Then I pour myself a glass of wine and head back into the living room. I give Cam his beer, then sit at the end of the sofa near his feet, crossing my legs under me.
“Why aren’t you dressed for bed yet?” He eyes my jeans and T-shirt. “It’s almost ten o’clock on a school night. You need your sleep.”
That makes me smile. “You’ll make a good dad someday, you know that? You’re bossy in a very sweet way.”
When he arches his brows at the compliment, I hold up a hand. “Not in love with you. Just making an observation.”
“Well, thank you. I’ve always wanted to be a father.”
“You have tons of time. What are you, early thirties?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t find out during your investigative research.” With an arm under his head, he takes a drink from his beer, watching me.
“Ugh. I only looked you up that one time, and I didn’t pay attention to your birth date. So—are you going to tell me, or is it a state secret?”
“I’m twenty-nine.”
