"I don't care. Go away."
"Sorry, Princess, we can't do that."
Rook walks further into the room and takes a seat on the edge of my bed, the mattress depressing with his weight. Ace remains standing in the doorway.
“If Jack sent Ace,” I say to Rook between sniffles, “what are you doing here?”
“I saw you run into the house, and that you were crying. I wanted to check you were okay.”
I sniff again and shake my head. “You’ll only get in trouble for being here. I’m not worth the headache, trust me.”
He places his hand on my back and rubs in soothingcircles. “You are definitely worth the headache, Cami. I promise you are.”
I dissolve into tears again. Someone being nice to me when I’m upset has always only made me cry more. I hide my face again, but Rook’s firm, warm hand continues to rub my back.
“Shh,” he says. “It’s all going to be okay.”
It’s easy for him to say that, but how is it going to be okay? I can’t possibly stay here after what’s happened. I remind myself that I never wanted to be here in the first place, but I guess over the past few days, the compound has grown on me. The men it contains, too. Even though, as far as I can tell, I have no choice but to leave and go to my mom and brother at the safe house, I’m going to miss them all. I’d thought the raucous and sexual shenanigans of the clubhouse and the bikers would be too much for me, but turns out I’ll miss that, too. I’ve had more of a sexual awakening over the past few days here than I’ve had during all the years I’ve spent at college.
I roll over and sit up, wiping my face. “It’s not, though, Rook. Nothing is okay.”
I think of how much I’m going to miss them all, and fresh tears come. How can I possibly still be crying? I’m going to end up a dried out old husk at this rate.
“Everyone hates me,” I mumble, feeling pathetic.
“No, they don’t,” Rook says softly. “We don’t hate you. Not at all.”
He cups my face, his thumbs brushing away my tears. Our eyes lock, and the atmosphere changes between us. I catch my breath, expecting him to pull away, to say we shouldn’t, but he remains as caught up in this moment as I am. His hands are warm and dry and firm, and Iwonder if they’re the same hands I felt on me last night. I had never considered it to be Rook, though I’m not sure why. I guess I thought he was too sweet, but from the heat passing between us right now, I think I was wrong about that.
31
ACE
Jack said whatever it takes—whateverit takes to stop her crying. Whatever ittakes to make her feel better. Whatever it takes to make her happy again. He's given me the all-clear, and I plan on making the most of that.
With her face cupped in both hands, Rook leans in and kisses her—slow and gentle, testing at first. But then her mouth opens and their tongues touch. I can see where they meet, wet and pink, twisting together. Rook deepens the kiss, his hand slipping to the back of her head, and Camile lets out a little moan.
But then Rook breaks apart from her.
“Fuck,” he curses, dipping his chin.
He glances over to me, and I know exactly what he's thinking—that he shouldn't be kissing her, that we've all been warned off. But I shake my head. What he's doing is helping.
"It's okay," I tell him. "The Prez said to do whatever it took to make her feel better. I think that's making her feel better."
She's definitely not crying anymore.
"He did?" Rook asks suspiciously, as though he thinks I'm setting him up.
"He did," I assure him.
Maybe I should feel jealous, seeing my beautiful girl kissing another man. But oddly, I don't.
In fact, the opposite is true. My dick jumps in my pants, and I want to see it again.
"Make her feel good," I tell Rook as though Camile isn’t even there. "You're helping."
He leans in and kisses her again. She whimpers and fists the neck of his shirt, pulling him closer, sliding beneath him on the bed until he's covering her with his body, her jean-clad legs wrapped around his hips.
