Page 31
"The rain. The ceiling collapsed. My house is destroyed." He sounds tired, not panicked — Cameron doesn't panic — but flattened. “Puck and I need someplace to stay.”
"Oh, my god." I'm already on my feet. "Where are you? Are you okay? Is Puck hurt?"
"We're fine. We're both fine." He clears his throat. "I was wondering if I could come by your place. Just for tonight. I know the timing is —"
"Cameron. Come to my house. I'll text you the door code." I'm walking toward the exit, planning my route home, trying to hear him.
A beat. "Briar, I'm sorry. You should be celebrating, not this."
"Shut up and drive to my house. I'm on my way there."
I hang up and find four women staring at me in the hallway.
"His roof caved in," I tell them. "He's staying at my place."
Ducky dangles her keys. "Let's go."
The ride home is not the calm, proactive planning opportunity I was hoping for.
Joey, Ducky, and Tate are wedged in the back seat of Ducky’s car, with Carrie driving. I’m riding shotgun as my teammates scream-sing along to Devon Cole on the radio, and my buzz drains as I realize what’s happening.
Cameron Miller is going to sleep in my house. With his sexy body. And his brain that knows how long it takes me to orgasm. And his lips will be there, too.
"So let me get this straight," Joey says, leaning across the console.
Carrie cackles. “You said straight!”
Joey flaps a hand to shush her wife. "Briar's enormous, sexy boyfriend is going to be LIVING in her HOUSE."
"With his cat," Carrie adds.
"With his pussy!” The back seat is in hysterics.
"He's not living there," I say. "It's emergency shelter.”
"It's never just one night," Tate says from the center seat. "My college roommate said, 'one night,' and then she was there for three semesters."
"His roof caved in," I repeat. "This is a crisis.”
"An emergency in which a six-foot-five man will be sleeping in your home." Joey leans back and grins. "Wearing what, do you think?"
"Joey." My face heats.
"Boxers," Carrie says thoughtfully. "He seems like a boxers guy."
"Boxer briefs," Ducky corrects from the back. "Man built like that needs support."
I sink lower in my seat. "I hate all of you."
"You love us," Tate says. "We just made the playoffs. And you’re in a tits-out top. Excellent call on my part.”
They drop me at my corner, and the car erupts in cheers and cackling as it pulls away. Joey yells something out the window about boobs. Carrie honks twice.
And then it's quiet.
I stand on my sidewalk in the cold, slightly drunk and slightly sweaty, and I see his car. He's already here.
I look up at my house. Through the front window, I can see a light in the hallway. He used the code. He's inside.