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She ignores me, opens the bottle, and takes a long swig. My eyebrows pop up, impressed that she swallows it down so easily.
“Did I drive you to drink already?” I grin, waiting to see if she cracks.
She brings the bottle back to her lips, downing another long swig.
“Damn, killer. I made you breakfast, gave you a dance show, and pissed you off all before ten? That’s gotta be a new record for me.”
“It’s not you,” she says calmly, gripping the neck and swinging it as she walks to the table. “Zane broke up with me in a text message.”
I hadn’t expected that. Dropping my fork, I say, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
She sits across from me and gives me a side-eye. “No, you’re not.”
“Actually, I am. I was hoping he’d bring pot.”
Cami laughs, and it’s the sweetest, most genuine sound I’ve heard since we both arrived. “You mean you didn’t bring any?”
“Of course, I did. But I figured a rich boy like him would have the good stuff. If you want to wallow, I’ll share mine with you.” I flash a grin.
“How nice of you,” she deadpans. “I don’t smoke it with him. He looked like an idiot but did it around his stupid friends to seem cooler than he was.”
That’s not surprising. Zane’s a fucking moron, especially if he broke up with her.
I inhale half my omelet. “I can teach you. I brought my pipe.”
“A pipe? Oh, my God. What are you, eighty?” She crosses her legs on the chair. Right now, in her non-designer tank top and cotton shorts, she looks normal. Not at all like she’ll inherit billions of dollars before she turns thirty.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you prefer to be classier and smoke it rolled in a joint?” I take a sip of my juice and grin.
Cami’s frown turns into a full-on smile, and knowing I made her laugh gives me a small sense of pride.
“Vodka and weed. Sounds like the perfect medicine for heartbreak.”
“I’ll even sweeten the deal…but I’m gonna need something in return.”
She waves her hand. “Like what?”
“Since I made you breakfast—a delicious one, might I add—you have to make dinner.”
Cami narrows her bright eyes at me. “You’re joking.”
“No, really. Try it. This omelet is fan-fucking-tastic.”
“Not about that,” she says. “I can’t cook.”
That I knew. Cameron St. James has never had to cook a day in her life.
“Well, now’s a good time to learn.” I flash her a devilish smirk. She shoots a death glare my way, folding her arms. “Okay, okay.” I laugh. “I’ll help. Consider me your personal cooking tutor.”
“That’s a horrible idea,” she states. “I’ll probably poison us both.”
“I guess that’s just a risk I’m willing to take.” I tap my knuckles twice on the table, then stand and grab my dirty dishes. “We’ll start nice and easy.”
“Like what? Boiling a pot of water?”
“Well, that’ll be the first step for making pasta.” I rinse my plate and mug.
Cami follows with her vodka in hand, and I watch as she takes another gulp.
“You’re gonna be drunk before we make it to dinner.”
“That’s kinda the plan. I’d like to numb as many feelings as I can right now, so you either find more alcohol or you’re a part of the problem.”
Chuckling, I take the bottle from her tight grip and put the cap back on. “Go take a hot bath and relax. I’ll be here to shout curse words at later.”
The moment the words fall from my mouth, her shoulders slump, and guilt washes over her face.
“I’m sorry about that,” she says softly.
“I know.” I flash her a wink, and she groans with an eye roll. “Now, upstairs you go. Take a nap after the tub. Once you’re awake, we’ll cook a delicious non-poisonous meal, then smoke.”
Cami snorts, and I can tell she’s already feeling the vodka. “This really must be the twilight zone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m at the cabin—one I haven’t been to in ages—with you, and we’re talking about weed. I must be dreaming.”
“Well, that’s very possible, but just in case…we should make sure.”
Sauntering toward her, I close the gap between us and grip the back of her neck. She steps forward, and I cover her mouth with mine.
I halfway expect her to push away and slap me, but she leans in and wraps her arms around my waist. Cupping her face, I slide my tongue between her lips and deepen the kiss. Cami moans against me, and her response has my dick reacting. I’m not sure what came over me—especially since she’s been single for barely a few hours—but she looked so sad and helpless moments ago, and I wanted to help her forget that asshole.
“Well?” I ask, breaking the kiss after a few moments. We’re panting and out of breath.
Cami blinks and brings a finger to her mouth. “Um…” Swallowing hard, she looks up at me. “What the hell was that?”
