I lift my hand and knock on his door.
I need him to be strong for me.
I need him to–
All the air in my lungs stalls, and my chest suddenly feels like it's filled with lead as I stare at the person who opened his door, wearing nothing but underwear and one ofCam'st-shirts.
My body is frozen to the spot, words stuck in my mouth, but my emotions spiral out of control before crashing to the ground into a pile of ruin alongside my heart.
No. This can't be real.
He's not here. He can't be. He's still away, and she somehow got into his apartment because she's obsessed with him or something. That's got to be it.
But then she looks over her shoulder, and it feels like slow motion that I follow her gaze to where Cam is still sleeping, shirtless in bed. Pain shoots through my chest as if I've just been stabbed with a blunt knife, my stomach churning like I'm going to be sick.
My breathing shallows like my lungs are being constricted, crushed under a ton of bricks. I can feel my hands start to shake and turn clammy.
Brandy slowly turns back to face me, and despite her bitchy comments toward me in the past, she does actually have the decency to look guilty.
“It's not actually what it looks like,” she tells me.
But I don't want to hear that.
While my heart has felt like it's being tossed around over the past few days, Cam's been ignoring my calls and texts, not giving a shit. He didn't bother telling me he was okay or even when he got back, but he obviously toldher.
That fuckingbastard.
Instead of him being here for me like he promised he would when I need him so desperately, he's been busy fucking another woman.
Was he doing that the entire time we were together?
Those familiar prickly sensations start spreading through my body like fork-lightening across the sky, and I stumble back away from her, banging into the wall before turning around and staggering my way toward the stairs.
I know what's coming, and I refuse to let it happen in front of her.
CHAPTER 36
CAMPBELL
“What do you want?” I grumble when the incessant shaking of my shoulder doesn't quit and starts to exacerbate the throbbing in my head.
“You need to get up.”
Ugh, fucking Brandy. Of course, it'd be her. She never has any regard for someone trying to sleep.
I bury my head deeper into my pillows as if I can hide from her. “Leave me alone.”
This time she slaps at my shoulder, thwarting my attempt to ignore her. “Get up, Cam.”
I feel shitty enough. I don't need her adding to it. My head is a swirling mess, and I can barely focus on turning it to the other side, let alone waking up and having a fucking conversation with her.
God, how much did I drink? What day is it even? And is it morning?
Jasmine would have let me sleep. She's sweet and considerate like that.
Wait.
Wait.
