I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it, but thanks for worrying. I’m okay. I just need a moment.”
He smiles kindly down at me. “You got it,bellissima. Take all the moments you need.”
I stay with Tony for another few minutes, but it’s obvious I’ve lost my will to flirt, and he doesn’t try to make any moves. He just engages me in conversation as though I’m not latched on to his side like some kind of parasitic insect. When I’ve recovered enough to move past the hurt and embarrassment, I say goodbye. Tony kisses me on the cheek, and once again, I feel absolutely nothing. I’m beginning to think that asshole Leo Delaney is the only one who makes me giddy and fluttery.
“Take care, Cami,” Tony murmurs. “Don’t be a stranger.”
I try to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. “I won’t. See you around.”
I wander back to my car, get into the driver’s seat, and rest my forehead against the steering wheel. Then I growl, letting out all the frustration bottled inside me. Damn Leo Delaney. Damn him, damn him, damn him. I hate his stupid, jerkish face. Even if it’s very good-looking.
Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately, depending on my point of view—hedidtick off #1 on my list. Whether or not I wanted to admit it to him at the time, that kiss was the best I’ve ever had.
I start the car and force myself to focus on the road. As I drive home, I think about the second item on my list:Get a tattoo. I’ve always wanted one. A lot of the girls in this crowd have them, and I’ve always thought they look badass. In some cases, even beautiful. But Karson badmouths tattoos on women. He says they’re ugly and I shouldn’t do anything to make myself less appealing since men are hardly knocking down my door anyway. But now? Screw him. He’s a cheat and a liar. I want a tattoo and I’m going to get one. I’ve even drawn up the design. Now, I just need to find someone to put it on me.
I park in my apartment building’s underground lot and hurry up the stairs. Taking the stairs is a habit I picked up in an effort to shed a few pounds after Karson spent years telling me I’m too fat. But I like the burn in my legs, even if I’ve decided I don’t care about the extra weight. That weight is part of me, and when he’s not around to make derogatory comments, I like myself just fine. I smile as I march upward. My brother has opinions about everything, and now that I can see clearly, I’m never going to let him dictate my actions again. Twin or not, he doesn’t get any say in my life. As I summit the stairs and start along the corridor, my phone rings. I check the screen and groan. It’s my mother.
I raise the phone to my ear. "Hello, Mom."
“Camile. So good to hear your voice. Are you sick?”
I frown. “Uh, no.”
“Have you been run off your feet because you finally decided to get a worthwhile job?”
I wince as I slot the key into my lock. My parents don’t think much of the stylist at a plus-size clothing boutique gig. The only reason they helped me financially to study for my diploma in fashion design is because I agreed to also train as a paralegal at Mom’s law firm. I think they expected me to get excited by courtroom drama and go back to college to become a lawyer, but that’s never been my thing. When I left at the end of my second year, as we’d initially discussed, they were outraged—even though I’d fulfilled our agreement to a T.
“No, I’m still working at Curves.”
“So if you’re not busy or unwell, would you care to explain why it’s been over a month since any of us saw you?”
And there it is. The guilt trip. Her specialty. I step inside and shut the door with more force than is needed.
“I told you. What Karson did is wrong. All you guys can talk about is how unfair it is that he has to endure a year-long suspension. It’s his own fault. Until he’s willing to take responsibility for his actions, I won’t sit around and listen to you disparage good people just to try to make him feel better.”
“But Cami.” She tries her “I’m so reasonable” tone. “He needs your support. This is a difficult time for him. The police are pressing charges for the possession of cocaine.”
I roll my eyes as I flop onto the sofa. “Then maybe he shouldn’t have had cocaine in his possession, and he wouldn’t be having this problem.”
Mom makes a sound of frustration. “I’ve never known you to be so uncaring. You’ve always supported him before.”
“I’m sorry if I’m unsympathetic about the fact my twin brother is a drug cheat.” I end the call and switch off my phone so she can’t call back. Satisfaction rolls through me, followed by a twinge of guilt. I should have been more polite. She is my mother, after all.
No, Cami. You deserve to be treated well. She may be your parent, but she only wants you when you’re useful.
Why do relationships have to be so complicated?
Leo
I land blow after devastating blow on the boxing bag, using far more force than is wise considering I only fought a couple days ago. But I’ve never been one to shy away from the gym, not even when I’m tired and sore. I like to get right back in the thick of it. I pivot and kick, then throw a right overhand punch—my favorite way to knock out an opponent. While I don’t take joy from hurting people, there’s something satisfying about winning via knockout. When it comes down to points, there’s a degree of subjectiveness that pisses me off.
“Tone it down.” At the sound of a voice, I turn and find Seth watching me impassively. “You need to give your body time to recover.”
I grimace because I know better than to behave this way, but I’ve been tied in knots since yesterday.
I kissed Camile Hayes. And it was fucking amazing.
Then I turned around and acted like a dick. But in yet another strange turn of events, she gave me sass right back. I really admired her in that moment, and I don’t like finding things to admire about Camile because I didn’t think she was the kind of woman who had admirable traits. She keeps challenging my perception of her, and I wish she’d just stay in the box I’ve kept her in all these years.
