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I wasn’t completely innocent, but he escalated the situations. I’m judged by thousands of people who don’t know me, but to have someone I cared about have such harsh opinions of me hurt even worse.
I place Chanel on the bed and realize I forgot her bowls. “I’ll be back,” I tell her before shutting the door.
Once I’m in the kitchen, I grab her food and water. “I’m gonna put these in my room so we can avoid World War Three in the mornings.”
“Between you and me or the animals?”
“Ha. You’re a comedian now.”
“Well, you are scary before your coffee.” He squints, then continues, “Or is that how you are all the time?”
“Gonna have to drink mine with alcohol just to deal with your ass.”
Elijah releases a deep howl. “Oh, you and me both, princess.”
I take the stairs to my room, drop off Chanel’s dishes, then go back to see Elijah dancing in the kitchen as he flips an omelet. It’s amusing to watch a six-foot-something guy who enjoys the great outdoors move around like Channing Tatum. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was a mountain man stuck in the city. I know he works in real estate, but I’m not sure exactly what that entails.
“If you ever give up on real estate, you should take up stripping. Bet you’d get lots of singles tucked into your G-string.”
Eli faces me, popping a brow. “You picturing me in my underwear now? I think we’re gonna have to discuss boundaries…” he taunts, and I roll my eyes.
Grabbing my phone, I notice Zane finally messaged me.
Zane: Not gonna make it.
What the fuck? I sit at the table and furiously type a response.
Cameron: What do you mean? Where are you?
Zane: Staying in the city.
Cameron: Why? I thought we were going to be together during this time.
Zane: I don’t think this is working out for me anymore.
My blood pressure rises, and I grow more frustrated with each passing second.
Cameron: What the fuck are you talking about, Zane? We had plans!
Zane: I think we should see other people, Cameron. Indefinitely.
Shifting in my chair, I ball my hand into a fist and see red. How fucking dare he break up with me over a text message?
Cameron: GO TO HELL, ASSHOLE!
“Okay, one ham and regular fat cheese omelet is ready.” When Elijah places the plate in front of me, the steam from the food floats toward my face. I wish I could ignore what just happened with Zane, but I’m so fired up that I’m seeing red. “Bon appétit. Do you want orange juice or just your coffee? OJ is full of calcium and vitamin C, which we need at a time like this, so I brought plenty. I’ll even share it with a princess.” He chuckles.
Eli chats as if nothing is wrong while I can’t think straight because I’m in shock. I’m not heartbroken over the loss of Zane, but his text definitely blindsided me. I should be upset, considering we’ve been together for two years, but I’m more outraged than anything. Why are guys such pricks?
As I push back, the chair scrapes along the floor. I stand and grab my mug off the table. “Don’t bother.”
Instead of giving Eli an explanation, I rush to my bedroom before I have an emotional breakdown.
Zane can kiss my ass.
He made me believe he wanted a future with me, but if he’s staying in the city, that means he’s not alone. The bastard is probably with another chick, and considering how easy it was for him to break up with me, he’s more than likely been cheating the entire time.
Fuck him.
Chapter Four
ELIJAH
What the hell just happened?
I scratch my head at Cameron’s sudden mood change and abrupt departure. She can’t honestly be that upset I teased her about the damn cheese. That’d be a stretch even for Cameron St. James.
“Well, I guess it’s just you and me, Bruno.” I shrug, setting my plate and juice down on the table. The espresso machine looks complicated, and I had planned to figure it out later, but now I’m contemplating taking a shower and going back to bed to restart this weird as fuck day.
Moments later, Cami stomps down the staircase, and I watch in silence as she marches to the kitchen. I stab a piece of meat with my fork and shove it into my mouth, keeping my eyes on her. When she’s not shouting at me or having a tantrum, she’s quite breathtaking. Blond hair sweeps along her face and shoulders, her shining blue eyes glance around as her nostrils flare.
“Digging out the alcohol already?” I ask with amusement as she grabs the vodka from the top shelf in the liquor cabinet. Her mood shift has me eager to find out what the hell happened because she obviously has a problem.
