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I cleared my throat, searching for my voice. “It doesn’t matter if you were like him or not; she wouldn’t think I’d go after you. It’s not a thought that would even enter her brain.”
He pulled at my lip. “You think you know her better than me?”
I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t.
I was too turned on to push that puff of air through my lungs.
“As well as you,” I replied. “But you’ve just got to trust me on this. Like earlier tonight, when we FaceTimed and she asked if I wanted to hang out with her, Sydney, Jo, and Kendall, I told her I was slammed with work and couldn’t. She didn’t question me or come up with some sneaky conclusion that I’d made other plans and wasn’t telling her about them. See, we’re good.”
His brows lifted. “Wait a sec. You told her you were slammed with work?”
“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”
His hands left me, and he took a step back, picking up his drink and bringing it to his mouth. “That’s the same excuse I gave her when she asked why I wasn’t going out with the guys.”
“So?”
“So …” He glanced away. “You don’t think that’s obvious?”
“Why would Hannah ever think the two of us would be together? I think you’re paranoid and trying to make this into something it’s not.”
He looked at me again.
Really looked at me.
“I hope you’re right about that, Oaklyn.”
“I am.”
He took several sips and wiped his lips, still staring at me as he said, “Since you have it all figured out”—he stopped to chuckle—“then it’s time for lesson one.”
A burst of nerves shot through my body, and I began to guzzle the remainder of my wine.
I was only a few swallows in when he gripped the glass and gently pulled it away from me. “You don’t need any more of that right now.”
“But I think I do.”
He set the wine on the other side of the counter and went over to the bar to refill his glass. “You’ll resume the drinking once we’re done.”
Professor and alcohol-intake controller. This was already getting interesting.
Still, I stayed pressed against the island and waited for his next command.
Watching.
Completely frozen.
I had no idea what was about to go down.
What he was going to do to me.
Because this lesson wasn’t my fantasy; it was his, and even if my life depended on it, I couldn’t begin to guess what Camden would want.
After returning to the kitchen, he clasped my hand and said, “Come with me,” and he brought me into the living room.
The couch was a large sectional, shaped as a U, outlining the whole room. He placed me on one side of the horseshoe, and he took the other side, so we faced each other. That gave me the impression that he was not only going to watch; he was going to have a front-row seat.
But of what?
