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48
Willow
Are my heart, body, and soul his playthings? Or is this love? Throat tight, I swing my stiff arms around to push Camdyn away. Though, he gave me the declaration I desperately begged to hear a thousand times over.
“Good night, Cam.”
“I’ll not fuck you tonight, Willow. But I’m not leaving. Scream. I don’t care. I love you. I fucking love you.”
Camdyn’s love becomes an assault on me as I struggle against him, but his arms crash around me, crushing the life from my bones. Relief rolls through him when I cease from struggling and allow him to lead me into my bedroom.
While we lie, holding each other, Camdyn’s hand twirls with mine in the moonlight. His mouth captures mine in a kiss like never before. Sensual. Kind. Full of hope. The kiss tastes of warm heaven and tethers a deep spiritual bond that was never there between us.
A faint smile crosses my face when Camdyn brings the back of my hand to his lips as if sealing the silent vow. “I’m lucky to have you, Willow. Tonight, I’m not gonna fuck you. I’m gonna tell you all the reasons I’m relieved that you picked a crazy motherfucker like me.”
Hot blood races through my veins, igniting me from the inside out. Though my emotions are barely contained, I’m silent. The depths of my eyes implore him to make me believe it.
While his gaze rakes over my body, my skin burns hot, melting me from the inside. He leans close, vanquishing the air in my throat. Instead of kissing me, Camdyn’s mouth brushes my earlobe. “My soul was looking for you, Lo. It knew everything I couldn’t even imagine that I’d not only desire but need. This is destiny. Falling in love with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Tonight, Camdyn MacKenzie’s mouth isn’t framing my sex, nor is his dick diving deep inside of me. A slow heat radiates in the center of my heart while he plants a kiss on my forehead and holds me close. Camdyn’s heartbeat is a perfect lullaby while he simply offers up the million ways he loves me.
* * *
For an entire week, Camdyn and I practice abstinence. We don’t discuss it, but perhaps celibacy is an unwritten affirmation that we aren’t truly dysfunctional, crazy souls who only share a physical connection. We aren’t bad for each other.
At the end of the week, Camdyn’s not hosting the Green Room because he’s with me at the cabin in Big Bear. April rings in scattered rain showers. Though I’ve not given much thought to my future after high school, I’m content with my momma staying at Orange Blossom. In a few words, Camdyn shared that nobody at Orange Blossom will ever bring my mother any pain.
One weekend, Camdyn and I babysit his brother Leith’s four-year-old, Mia, at a high-tech mansion on a cliff in Laguna Niguel. I stand at the door to a room fit for royalty as Camdyn sits at an impossibly tiny table. His black sequin tutu is a perfect contrast to his tattoos, and he sips from real china.
The curly-haired girl with butterscotch cheeks declares, “Princess Camdyn has never brought a royal subject to my kingdom.”
Camdyn groans, “I’m not a prin—”
“Silence!” Her beautiful eyes flicker with mock maliciousness in Camdyn’s direction before her wrath descends upon me again. “Now, are you ready to play teatime, Princess Willow?”
Recalling why I was confined to the doorway, because I didn’t curtsy, I bow exaggeratedly. “Yes, Queen Mia.”
Needless to say, that day, I learned how Mia MacKenzie poses more danger brandishing a mascara wand than Camdyn MacKenzie with a knife. At the beginning of May, Jamie and I wrap up our physics final project. We’re sitting at our spot on the furthest part of the lawn when we both speak.
He says, “I guess you’ll go to prom with my—”
While I blurt, “The teacher might let me present for—”
Though we’d promised each other honesty, we haven’t discussed my relationship with Camdyn in months.
“Um, I suppose. I haven’t thought about prom.” I shrug.
It probably sounds like I’m feeding him bullshit. In the center of the football field, cheerleaders kick their legs high, while one football player gives a big speech to his girlfriend. Come to think of it—they may be the lovebirds who were screwing in the lady’s locker room on my first day here.
While the twosome gives us Dirty Dancing entertainment, I huff. “I doubt Cam’s going the prom-posal route.”
“If he loved you, he would.”
“Love aside. We aren’t those people.”
“When I saw a picture of you at your old school . . .” Jamie’s voice trails off, humiliation blooming across his face. Jamie pushes a few long dark blond strands behind his ear.
“While you were cyberstalking me,” I assist with a wave of my hand, “I never had a boyfriend. You saw a bunch of pictures with me and my girls.”
