Page 14 of Chasing Clouds

My mother and my coaches have always both chastised and praised me for this. In stressful situations, there’s no happy medium; I always react first and contemplate later.

Suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the back of this tiny car, I glance over at Camille’s house. “Come on, let’s go inside.” I release her hand and pat her leg.

“Okay.”

The driver sees us moving and he opens the door. I climb out, breathing in the fresh air to calm down, and help her out of the car. People passing on the sidewalk stop to take us in. A few camera phones go up and she smiles, always playing the part, except this time it’s with me. I hate that she knows this part so well.

“So, this is where you live?” I ask, our fingers finding each other and linking together once again. It really is a very nice looking house from the outside, larger than anything I’ve ever lived in.

She smiles as she opens the small gate leading to the front steps. “It is. As much as I loved living in New York City, I love this house even more. It was built back in the 1850s and was originally a hotel. It was then bought by a Northerner who worked in lumber and redesigned it to be a house. It’s obviously gone through several rounds of restoration, but I couldn’t possibly love it any more.”

While she unlocks the front door, I run my free hand down the white portico column beside it. With the history of this house, the history of her family, I feel way out of my league.

Entering the foyer, I’m immediately taken with the architecture and details. A lot of thought and care has clearly gone into each aspect, like the intricacies of the crown molding, the arched doorways, the elaborate curved stairway, and the colors. It’s beautiful, and it’s easy to see why she loves it so much.

“Please, make yourself at home.” She stops us at the base of the stairs and looks around nervously. “Just wander wherever. There’s food in the kitchen, a TV in the living room, and a guest bedroom on the second level. It’s yours if you want it.”

“Okay,” I murmur.

She’s unsure about what to do with me here, about what’s supposed to happen next.

The house is completely empty and still, and a heavy silence falls between us as she takes a step away from me. Our hands finally drop, and in a way, I feel like the connection we’ve shared over the last hour is now broken. I feel like it’s now her and me, two separate entities.

“Will your sister be arriving soon?” I rub the back of my neck, trying not to feel completely out of place.

Her brows scrunch down in question and she tilts her head just a little.

“You said your grandfather bought this house for the two of you.”

“Oh. Yeah, he did, but no, she’s not stopping by. She doesn’t live here. It’s just me.”

I look up at the top of the winding stairs that go up three levels and then at the rooms on each side of me. One is a formal sitting room, the other a library. “This is a large place for just one person.”

“It is, but it’s mine and no one can take it from me.” Her tone is a little sharp. After meeting her douchebag ex and her father, I can see why this would be important to her.

“I’m going to go upstairs for a while to rest and get changed for tonight, if you don’t mind.” Her cheeks turn pink; she’s putting space between us, and I guess I realize I’m grateful. I need to sort through the shit in my own head and think about what comes next.

“This is all I have.” I hold my hands out, thinking about my small bag and my car back at her parents’ house.

Her gaze drops and slowly runs over the length of me. My stomach muscles tighten; I think I like her eyes on me. “You look great,” she mumbles. “Really great.” Finally, she reaches my eyes. “It’s too hot outside for this dress, and besides, I have another one to put on for tonight.” She picks up the long layers of her skirt and sways her hips back and forth.

“You looked beautiful today—I hope you know that.”

Her cheeks and neck flush red as she inhales, her chest expanding. My eyes drop to the swell of her breasts and I have to force myself to look away. No need to make this more awkward than it already is.

“Thank you.”

I briefly wonder if anyone told her that this morning then silently curse myself for not telling her sooner.

“Do you mind helping me with the buttons?” She turns around and presents her back to me.

“Sure.”

I step toward her as she pulls the veil from her head and tosses it onto a console table. Gently pushing her hair over one shoulder, I look down at the row of pearls waiting to be undone. Sliding my fingers under the fabric at the top, one by one they unfasten, leaving the full length of her back exposed. She grips the front of her dress, keeping it up, and I can’t help running my finger down over each bump of her spine, lingering on the last one. She has the softest skin, and under my touch, she starts trembling—and I know it’s not because it’s cold in here, but because this affects her, and the entire day is catching up to her. Instinct takes over and I step closer, wrapping my arms around her. Pulling her back flush with my front, I drop my head next to hers.

“Reid—” Her voice breaks as she breathes out my name and her arms layer over mine. The trembling has turned to shaking and she starts breathing harder.

“Deep breath, Camille. I’ve got you.”