Coincidentally Kismet

20. Cam

CHAPTER 20

CAM

“BAD IDEA RIGHT?” - OLIVIA RODRIGO

I ’ve been dancing for hours. I’m drenched in sweat, and I don’t believe for a second that my playful flirting with Will’s friends has gone unnoticed. He’s eyed me warily all night, the scowl he’s been sporting for the better part of the last two, maybe three, bars is almost comical. He’s making this more difficult than it has to be. It’s not like making a move on me isn’t something he hasn’t done before. And while a few days ago, hell, a few hours ago, I would have reasoned his lack of response toward me was because he wasn’t interested, I know better now.

How am I suddenly so confident? For one, feeling his hard length against me in the ocean was a dead giveaway. Second, he hasn’t so much as looked at anyone else, and trust me when I say there isn’t a shortage of drool-worthy girls to go around. It’s the beach after all, it’s practically a walking porno mag everywhere we turn.

Amy has been giving me shit all night about not making my move. The thing is though, even if I can tell he wants me, there is no way I’m acting first. Will has always loved the chase. Plus, my newfound understanding of his feelings is not enough for me to open myself up to rejection from him, or from anyone else for that matter. I guess I still don’t fully trust my intuition or his supposed feelings for me, as told by Amy and Lo.

I spotted Amy and Smith talking to him earlier. They must have said something about the stick he had lodged up his ass because he started drinking again—not enough for him to be drunk, but definitely enough to be bold. I, on the other hand, started the night strong, but the food I plowed through and the dancing has made it nearly impossible to get anywhere beyond that warm, hazy buzz that happens after the first two drinks. Honestly, I’m thankful. I hate feeling out of control or hungover.

Slow beats bellow out of the speakers, lulling me into a euphoric state. I slowly swing my hips as the music takes a slightly more subdued turn. Music has always been fuel for my soul: a quick, happy song with the windows down to celebrate the fresh spring air, a soul-wrenching breakup song that drowns your tears better than any girls’ night or pint of ice cream. Songs like this are so much more than just music; it’s therapy, soothing me and carrying me through any situation imaginable.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, content to let the melody carry me through this weird night, and really, this entire weird situation of being caught in the middle. I don’t want to admit that I have feelings for Will, but it’s something that won’t go away. Like a splinter you work at but can’t seem to pull the last bit out.

“You okay, Wright?” Will’s smooth, soothing voice sweeps over me, hot breath on my neck as his big, strong arms wrap tightly around my waist sending sparks up my spine.

My eyes pop open, and dammit, I can’t help but grin. “I’m great! Letting the song take me away from it all. What are you doing over here, Rambo?” I ask, sweeping my arm toward the dance floor.

“Just checking on you. I can think of some other ways to carry you away from it all, you know,” he says with a sultry smirk.

“I-is that a good idea? I thought we were just friends, Will,” I ask, a little breathless and puzzled, all at the same time.

“You called me, Will.” He leans toward me and smiles. I can feel his lips turn up as they coast across my neck.

“Don’t get used to it. What are we doing?” I turn in his arms, fully enveloped in him, wrapped in his cedar scent.

“I was told not to think, to just go with it.” His words come out gravelly as his chest heaves, sucking in breaths.

“We have to think about it though, don’t we?” My mind is spinning. His lips are inches from mine, our breath intermingling.

“You are all I’ve thought about for five years. I just want one minute to not think, just to feel with you. Only you.” He closes his eyes, pain and sorrow nipping at my resolve.

Do I want to go down this road? Should I let myself become vulnerable to what is surely going to be a road of heartbreak and pain? But the feel of his warm, strong body wrapped around me creates a fictitious sense of security. I’m feeling safe, protected, even a little loopy.

I glance at his lips quickly, then dart my eyes back to his. He takes a minute to stare deep into mine, like he’s searching for something, but what it is, I have no idea. He whispers, “Fuck it,” and I feel his lips crash down on mine.

Will’s kiss is soft and tentative at first, just a simple press of his lips against mine. I feel the rumble of approval in his throat, and I dart my tongue gently out, licking carefully across the seam of his mouth. He parts it slowly, and we gently take our time exploring each other’s taste, almost tentatively.

It’s not awkward, it isn’t our first time kissing each other. Instead, it’s comforting, similar to saying hello to someone who was important to you but who you lost touch with for a bit. Kissing Will is tantalizing. Goose bumps pepper my whole body, and there’s a wet heat thrumming down my belly and into lower parts that sends shivers up my spine.

He nips at my lower lip, and I take the advantage by delving in, pulling the kiss deeper. I’m not sure when I wrapped my hands around his neck, but I can’t seem to get him close enough. At the same time, I can’t breathe because I’m wrapped so tightly against him. Our tongues tangle, searching, exploring, tasting everything we can. He’s pressing my favorite steel rod into my belly as my hips work to gain leverage and I grind against him. I break the kiss for a second, gasping for air.

“Th-that was . . . nice,” I huff out breathlessly.

“Nice? Hmm...I think I would choose a different adjective,” he says, his lips curling up adorably into that smirk I’ve come to love so much.

“I mean, yeah, obviously. I don’t think my brain is working right now. Lack of oxygen, you know?” I say, pink dusting my cheeks.

Steering us away from a debate on descriptive words, I hastily grab his face and pull him into another breathless kiss. He is heaven and hell wrapped up in one excruciatingly devastating package. He smells all male, warm ribbons of fresh cedar waft in my nose. His lips know how to mesh perfectly with mine, infusing his kisses with just the right amount of teasing and depth. I could stay here for hours—not at this bar, just with Will.

I shift slightly, bringing myself even tighter against him. I’m practically rubbing myself on him and whimpering, like a cat mewling for attention. His hands slip down to my lower back, dangerously close to my ass, when the hooting and hollering breaks out.

“Thank the sweet lord, it’s about damn time.” Smith’s roar bellows out across the dance floor, shattering the bubble we were in.

Will leans in again, pressing one soft, chaste kiss to my lips and whispering, “We’re busted, Wright.”

Giggles burst free. “Thanks for, um...Thanks for that, Rambo.” I grab his hand, walking back toward our group.

Lo floors me with a look, a mixture of pride and wariness. She’s not unhappy with this development, but it’s apparent she isn’t sure what her reaction is supposed to be, as my friend. The rest of the group appears ecstatic that the awkwardness is finally over. Little do they know, this all just got a lot more complicated.

We hang around the bar, allowing everyone to finish up their drinks, before heading back to the rental. Will keeps me close, but the kissing seems to be over, and aside from a few stolen glances or light touches, we are mostly acting as friends. Will was never much for PDA, so it shouldn’t be surprising. Still, I can’t help but wonder if maybe the kisses felt better to me than they did to him.

On the walk back, Will makes sure that he is walking on the outside, chivalry and all. We joke and laugh when Ruiz wobbles a little too much and ends up face-planting in a bush. No one realized he drank so much. I certainly wasn’t paying much attention, with all the dancing and kissing.

Speaking of kissing, I can’t help feeling a little let down. I mean, it was amazing—hands down the best make out I’ve had in years. But it also feels like a mistake, and I’m not sure why. My walls are going up faster than one of those prebuilt stick homes. Will is acting casual, maybe too casual, and I wonder if it was all just a drunken, meaningless thing to him. He’s made it clear he wants to be friends.

After stepping into the cool air conditioning of our rental, everyone seems to become aware of how late it is. Lo and Smith give quick waves and make their way into their room. Amy immediately bolts to the bathroom, and Ruiz passes out face down on his bed with his door open. That leaves me, Will, and Butler standing awkwardly at the counter, sharing some leftover pizza.

I’m picking at my pepperoni. It doesn’t taste good, and I’ve mostly sobered up from dancing and walking back, but I also know that my tomorrow self will thank me for putting something in my stomach.

I can’t help but overthink every minute of the evening. There’s a knot in my stomach twisting and turning, screaming at me. I’m not sure how to just go to bed after how the night ended up. Even though I’m not ready for things to go to the next level, I want Will to come to bed with me. I’ve always loved cuddling, and having that warm, chiseled body snuggled up tight with mine sounds simply exquisite.

Realistically, I know it won’t happen. The little voice in my head is telling me it was a one-time thing. We kissed, we leaned into the attraction that had been brewing over the last couple of weeks, and that’s it. I refuse to open myself up or believe that there is more to this. Will wants to be friends, and I know he only has the capacity to hurt me. I should never have kissed him. Gahhh! Stupid, stupid, me!

I need to get out of this situation. I’m not strong enough to go through another heartbreak at the hands of Will Davenport. Sexy he may be, but when it comes to relationships...he’s nothing but red flags. So why do I always act like a bull and run straight toward them?

Quietly, I slink off, acting like I’m headed to the bathroom. At the last minute, I duck into my room as quietly as I can, closing the door. Lying down, I force myself to think of how much fun I had tonight instead of wallowing in self-pity.

Having this group of friends, people like Butler and Ruiz who are just genuinely funny and easy to be around, is extremely comforting. And Smith and Lo are something else. Looking at them, one would think they had been together for years. Relationships like theirs are what people dream of. A unique and uncanny ability to complete another person so wholly. I’m not an expert on Smith by any means, but I can tell from the short time I’ve known him that Lo is his person. She’s everything he isn’t, and yet they mesh so well. There’s no fighting over differences or wishing the other person would be into the same things they are. They simply accept each other for who they are, without trying to change a single thing about the other.

Being around them is not always easy, they’re both a handful. Smith is boisterous and loud while Lo is a blast but a little bossy. They’re a power couple, and yet the smallest things have them glancing at one another, almost like they’re communicating through their eyes. It’s what I want, what I had with Will once. That connection isn’t the same now.

I never know exactly what he’s thinking, I dream of being able to look into his eyes and see his soul. Don’t get me wrong, there have been glimpses of it here and there, but he’s different now. He’s matured, hardened, and he’s not open to anything more than the occasional pet name and stolen kiss at the bar. I can feel it in my bones that this is as far as it goes. Maybe it’s for the best.

Walking this path with him only leads to one place: me being alone, broken, and hating myself even more than I did the first time. No, I will not allow him to do this again. It feels good to know he is physically attracted to me, but I refuse to give him my heart. Too much has changed, too much time has passed. I have a career, a life without him. That’s precisely what I wanted, and that’s the way it needs to stay.

A faint knock on the bedroom door startles me from my spiral. It’s probably Amy wanting to snuggle in with me instead of taking the couch. What if it’s Will, though? I can’t do this with him. I won’t do this with him again. Kissing him was a warm balm to my soul, but I will not let it be the warm-up for the eventual cooldown of the harsh reality that awaits.

I pretend to be asleep, deciding that letting Amy in would only further this ache and unravel me. She cannot know my feelings because she will absolutely tell her brother, and that would only complicate things more.

The door creaks open a smidge, and I hear not Amy, but Will.

“Cam, are you awake?” he asks softly.

Instead of reacting, I remain still and keep my eyes tightly shut. It’s dark enough, he won’t be able to tell I’m faking. I need him to leave, and in the morning, I need to get the hell out of here. It was fun while it lasted but I need space. I need to focus on my life, my health, and my career. Heartbreak is not on the agenda today, folks.