Page 111 of Suck It Up


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The thought of getting knocked up by Cam is scary enough. Someone else? I want to throw up, imagining getting knocked up by Trent after yesterday. Cam made him wrap it up, but the condom is hardly a foolproof method.

"I’d prefer to be on birth control," I concede.

"I’m supposed to be objective, but you're my nephew's girlfriend, so I’ll say I believe you’re making the right decision. It’syourbody and you’re the one who doesn’t want to get pregnant yet."

It occurs to me that sheknowsCamden likes sharing me, and I can feel my neck and face heat.

"I’ll run a full panel of tests to come up with the best solutions for you—the lowest risk of side effects. I’ll get back to you in the next couple of days, all right?"

I nod, and she calls in some nurses to take my blood.

"I could also take the pill out of sympathy," Camden offers on our way out.

I roll my eyes. "No need to mess with both of our hormones. Besides who would you be without testosterone?"

"Trent, probably."

He’s so bad, but I laugh as he drives us back to campus.

Camden stops in front of my dorm, and as he gets out to open my door, I notice I instinctively waited for him to do so rather than trying to exit the vehicle myself.

I don't know what's scarier: the fact that he's training me, or the fact that it's working.

"Before I forget, your driving lessons start Monday after next, before class. I'll forward your schedule. You'll need to sort out the permit by then."

"Thank you." I'm glad I let myself say it before my brain interfered, finding the hundreds of reasons why I don't like thanking him.

He set it up for my benefit without asking for payment, and I should thank him for it, the end.

Except it's never that simple between us, is it?

I wonder if he'll kiss my forehead today. I wonder if I want him to.

"Have a good weekend, Morgan."

He turns on his heel, circles his car to the driver’s seat, and amid the roar of the engine, he's gone.

ChapterFifty-Three

I’ve handled one of the women in my life. Morgan’s right where she belongs, and it’s only a matter of time before she’s truly mine.

Two to go.

"Does messing with my life amuse you, Mother?" I ask, out of curiosity.

I returned home to find my house taken over by a storm of pink and gold last night. Fucking Kim threw clothes all over the place, leaving her shoes, her scarves, herthongslying around every-fucking-where. She was never the tidiest of women, but this is a step further than her usual bullshit. She was claiming the place. And of course my single-minded cousins let her take over like she belonged here.

"Hello, son," Addison Hunt titters on the other end of the call. "Is that how you greet your mother after, what, six months? Seven?"

"Cut the crap." Communication is a two-way street, and she hasn't tried to call either. She's too busy getting a tan on her private beach.

My mother and I have an easy relationship, in the sense that we both understand we aren’t priorities in each other’s lives. She loves me—as much as she’s capable of loving anyone who isn’t herself—and I am fond of her, but we aren’t on each other’s radar. Addison loves nothing more than to control people, and I’m not someone she can manipulate.

Except, occasionally, she tries anyway.

"And get mycousinout of my house."

Addison’s voice is honey sweet. “What possesses you to think I have anything to do with Kimberly's presence?"

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