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He gets to his feet, laughing quietly. “I’m only ever a text away. If you want to see me, all you have to do is tell me.”
I’m not exactly short, but his sheer height is intimidating.
That’s why I shiver when he reaches out to my face, fingertips ever so lightly grazing my skin as he places a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.
I only think to step back seconds too late.
“I can't believe I didn't notice you back home, all those years. Where were you hiding?”
I roll my eyes. It's not like I washiding. He didn't pay attention until he coerced me into blowing him and his friends because I was irrelevant to his spoiled, rich ass. “I was over the river with the rest of the trash you were content to ignore until now. And seriously, this stalker thing isnotcute.”
"You're cute enough for both of us, princess."
That man.
I start rolling away.
"I come bearing gifts." He lifts a paper bag and jiggles its contents.
I can’t deny I’m curious, but I hide it. "What did I say about not being for sale?"
He really doesn’t seem to get it. It doesn’t matter what he has in the bag, it’s not going to make me like him more or let my guard down.
“Gifting implies handing over something with no expectation of reward, you know,”he retorts.
Gosh, he’s exhausting. Webothknow what he wants from me. "Camden—"I'm about to come up with a brilliant response, but the first thing he retrieves from the bag is a paper cup filled with coffee. "Oh. Erm. I…”
That’s sneaky, and unfair, and devious. Exactly what I should have expected from him, but somehow, I didn’t see it coming.
"Caramel latte, double shot, right?"
I think I whimper.
The coffee machine at home broke ten days ago and we're waiting for Natalie and Pauline's contribution to replace it. Without his blatant bribe, I won't have a chance of getting my fix until work…four hours from now.
I let the devil on my shoulder win and snatch the cup, taking three deep sips before moaning in pleasure.
"And that's my job done for the day. But I always was anoverachiever, so..." He pulls out a white box now, much larger than the phone.
"Okay, I'm going to have to cut you off now.” I hold a hand up. “We're not friends. We're not anything." I shouldn't have taken the coffee. It’s only encouraging him. “You can't keep giving me stuff. Replacing my phone after taking it—and throwing it out—was one thing. But—"
"Point taken. Take a look, though. You might just like it."
I’m determined not to let my naturally inquisitive disposition win. I don’t need to know what’s in the big white box. “Even if I did, I wouldn't accept it."
When I don’t make a move, Camden opens the lid, revealing a pair of objectively boring work shoes—black, smooth, and very similar to mine, albeit a little swankier.
I'm just confused now.
I would have understood if he’d bought me four-inch heels or lingerie—that would have been self-serving in his mind. Or he could have gone for a bribe. Found out that I’m dying to get a new ventilator for my laptop, or spied on my wish lists on various retailers. That would have computed with what I know about him. These…they’re practical, not flashy, andsolelyfor my benefit.
"You spend too long on your feet to wear subpar shoes,” he explains. “These may not look like much, but they're highly comfortable, supportive, and designed to keep your feet healthy through long hours. They were designed for ER doctors.”
I open my mouth and close it again, at loss for words."That's..." Way more thoughtful than I ever thought Camden capable of being, but still whollyinappropriate.
And weird.
And confusing.
