Page 13 of Wild and Bright

“It seems like a pretty good setup for me. I don’t like people. I don’t like having to pretend I’m interested in women just to get sex. It’s all…” He shakes his head. “Exhausting. I’d rather have someone who knows what to expect from me. Someone who won’t get their feelings hurt when I ask them to leave my bed after we’ve had sex. Someone who won’t expect me to ask them about their day.”

I nod slowly, still dazed. Sensing his intent stare on my face, I look up.

“What are you thinking about?” There’s a hint of something in his voice that I can’t quite decipher. Is it nervousness?

Heat pools in my belly. I shoot him a sultry smile. “Maybe I can use your offer as leverage against Hunter’s. Maybe if I tell him you’re willing to pay me ten K a month, he’ll do it, too.”

“Use my offer as leverage against Hunter’s,” he scoffs. “Hunter didn’t even make you an offer. You wrangled one out of him.”

“Yeah, because he would have done it for free.”

He smiles faintly. “But you wouldn’t let him. For some reason, it matters to you not to take charity. But you know it would be charity coming from him, even with on-demand—” he hesitates for a moment, as if struggling to find the next word, “—blow jobs. Hunter doesn’t need that. He’s not like me. He loves people. Hell, he even loves groupies. He has sex all the time when we tour, with men and women. He doesn’t need you, and you know it.”

Though he may be completely wrong about my plan with Hunter, he’s still right about that. Hunter doesn’t need me. And for the first time, I wonder if our plan was really fair. Hunter doesn’t need a housekeeper. He wasn’t even comfortable with my whole proposition. The only reason he considered it is because he loves me and didn’t want to leave me hanging when the situation with my mom is so dire.

Still, I refuse to cower to Cam. “Are you implying that you need me?”

His expression doesn’t change, but when his lips close, I know I’ve stumped him. He lifts a hand and scratches the back of his head, an uncharacteristic gesture for Cam.

“I don’t like people. It’s a better situation for me.” His repetition confirms my suspicion that I’ve rattled him. “And the fact that you and I don’t particularly like each other makes it even better, because I won’t have to worry about hurting you.”

Heat prickles at the back of my neck as my stomach sinks. I know Cam doesn’t like me. I know his attraction to me is purely physical. So why do I feel like he squashed a hope? Like something was building when he first asked me to be his mistress, and with a few words, he destroyed it.

“I need an answer now.” Cam’s command startles me out of my head.

My brow knits. “An answer to your offer?”

“Yes.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “What’s the situation like with your mom? Hunter says you need to move out right away.”

“I mean… I don’t think she was serious about kicking me out, but still, I’d like to move out soon if I can.”

“Good. We have a concert in Seattle Sunday night. If we’re going to do this, I want you to already be moved into my house by then. I don’t want to have to think about any of this when we perform. I’ve already been too in my head since Hunter’s relapse.”

Sunday night? Is he crazy?

“Well, I’m going to need to think about it.”

“What is there to think about? You need the money. It’s only six months, and you’ll have sixty grand. You’d be an idiot to turn me down.”

“It’s a big step. I’ll need time to figure out what it will mean for me.”

“You should be thinking less about yourself and more about your daughter,” he says under his breath.

A chill runs down my spine. In an instant, we’re sitting across from each other in that San Diego Denny’s, and he’s accusing me of being pregnant with his child and not telling him about it. And I’m filled with that same stomach-hollowing uncertainty.

Am I a terrible mother? Is all of his judgment—his belief that I’m a reckless, careless human being—founded in truth?

No. I can’t let myself fall back into the insecurities of my youth just because I’m around him again. I’ll never survive the next six months if I do.

I straighten my spine, lowering my chin as I stare up into his inky-dark eyes. “Don’t you ever talk about my relationship with my daughter. It’s none of your business.”

A look flashes on his face, so quickly there and gone that I can’t quite interpret it. But somehow, I know in my gut that I’d hurt him.

Does he still think about that conversation? Does it haunt him like it haunts me?

“I’m sorry.” His voice is soft.

“It’s because of my daughter that I need to think about it. It’s a huge deal uprooting her life like this.”

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