Cruel Intentions
CRUEL INTENTIONS
CAM
Leave it to Britt Matthews to fuck up what could have been the night of my life.
Normally, I would have never left someone like Rachel to meet Britt at my house at 1 a.m., but when I saw Britt’s text …
Britt
Been calling. Emergency. It’s about your brother. Need to see you ASAP.
My mind began to unravel. What happened to him? What could be that serious that it required Britt telling me face to face?
When I texted and called Roman asking if he was all right, he didn’t respond. I called Britt back to get more information, but she didn’t answer either.
A shudder ran through me when I saw Britt waiting on my front stoop.
“Britt.” I met her at the door. “What the hell is going on? What’s the emergency?”
“Hello, Cameron.”
Her honeyed voice sent a wave of nausea through me.
“Is Roman okay?”
“He’s fine. I was out with girlfriends and thought I’d stop by. I wanted to give you something.”
“Seriously? Fuck, Britt!”
She stepped up to me, and the scent of vodka on her breath was overwhelming. She reached out and touched my chest, which felt like someone dragging sandpaper over my skin.
“You smell like very expensive perfume,” she said. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
I wanted to yell and scream at her, but I remembered how calm Rachel was after Britt incited ants to attack her. The larger part of me didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing that she ruined my night.
“You did,” I said. I turned back to my door wondering if it was too late to text Rachel and pick up where we left off. “Good night.”
“Cameron, wait.” She wrapped her arms around my waist, her breath grazing the back of my neck.
I turned back around, not meeting her eyes, and peeled her thin arms off me. “You’ve got thirty seconds.”
“Can I please come in? It’s important and it does relate to Roman.”
My brows drew together. Britt knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted, which was why I avoided her at all costs. She insisted on coming in, however, and my resolve faded out of sheer curiosity; I wanted to hear what she had to say. I turned back around and opened my door.
“I see you haven’t done much since I left,” she said as she stepped in.
“I’m tired. I want to go to bed. What’s going on with Roman?”
Britt eased onto the sofa, which I would now have to set ablaze in the desert because she had touched it. I stared at her for a moment. This woman used to ignite a fierce desire in me, and now I saw her the same way I saw a saguaro—green and full of spikes.
“Can I have something to drink?” she asked.
“No.”
She smirked, pulled an envelope out of her purse, and handed it to me.
“What is this?”
“Just open it.”
I turned away from her and ripped the envelope open, the blood from my head draining to my feet as I read the words.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of Roman Allen Nash and Brittany Elsbeth Matthews.
“This is sudden.”
“I’m pregnant, Cameron. Roman and I are going to have a baby. We want to get married as soon as possible so I’m not all pregnant and fat in my wedding dress.”
“How touching. Please accept my regrets. That includes my greatest regret, which is that I ever met you in the first place.”
She slipped off the sofa and crept toward me. “Your brother wants you to come.”
“Then he can ask me himself.”
“He would, but he knows you don’t want to hear from him.”
“Thanks for stopping by.” Ripping the invitation into tiny pieces, mashing it up and slamming it into Britt’s hand was a small but highly therapeutic exercise. “Now get the fuck out of my house.”
She only smiled and eased closer. “Just think about it, Cameron. We’ve sent an invite to Victoria as well. Hoping you’ll find it in your heart to attend.”
I would never manhandle a woman in any way. It’s a simple rule to live by, but my patience was wearing thin, and I danced on the edge of taking Britt by the arm and throwing her out onto the street.
“Get out,” I growled.
“Are you sure?” She purred. “We could always steal a moment together for old times’ sake. I forgot how damn sexy you are.”
This time I did push her away from me. “I would rather be dipped headfirst in acid. Seems like you’re still not ready to be with one man, maybe you should turn Roman loose before you destroy him too.”
“I adore Roman, that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun before we say ‘I do.’”
When the vision of Britt going skydiving and her chute not opening flashed through my mind, I made for the door, opened it, and stood outside. “At least you’re consistent, Britt. Roman’s lucky to have you. For the last time, get out of here before I call the police.”
Her cackle sent a shiver through my body. “Oh, relax. Besides, do you really think I couldn’t convince them that you’re the threat? Maybe I should start screaming now …”
She wanted me to use force so she could turn it around on me. Like Rachel said— diabolical .
I grabbed her purse off the sofa, walked back outside, and dangled it in the street, threatening to dump it out on the asphalt. As if I had lured a rat to cheese, Britt slowly slunk out the door and took it from me.
“See you soon.”
“If you ever come back here, I will call the cops.”
Once she pulled out of my driveway, I stood on the doorstep and gazed back into the house. It was well after one now, but I was too agitated to sleep.
Shay and Charisse had been at a birthday party so there was still a good chance they were awake. I texted Shay and got an immediate response. When I showed up at her door ten minutes later, she didn’t say a word and reached for my hand. Apparently, they had just gotten home as Shay was still dressed up.
“You look great,” I said. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Shay kissed my cheek. “Not at all.”
Charisse greeted me with a smile and a hug that I desperately needed. “Come on in, Cam.”
Shay rubbed my back. “Sounds like you’ve had a wild night.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“You want some sweet peach tea or hot tea?”
I chose iced sweet tea from having been with two women who had made my blood boil in vastly different ways tonight. Since neither Shay nor Charisse drank alcohol, they were purveyors of the best coffee and tea drinks. Charisse had brought her sweet tea recipe with her when she moved from Louisiana, and Shay made a killer mocha from working as a barista in Washington as a teenager. I had given up on love a long time ago, but seeing how these two women felt about each other, I knew finding love was at least possible for some people.
Shay and Charisse both came out in high school with each of their families supporting them 100 percent along the way. They met at ASU and dated for years, often long distance, while they finished separate culinary programs before finally tying the knot in a Hawaiian beach wedding. They were the sisters I never had. After Britt left, they had let me stay with them while she moved her stuff out. The nights we stayed up late playing cards and commiserating about life in the restaurant business helped me heal from the worst day of my life.
After I told them how my night started and how it ended, they sat staring at me with eyes wide before Charisse broke the silence. “Well, at least the beginning of the night was good, yeah?”
“Sounds like you and Rachel had fun baking,” Shay said. “Let’s focus on that for bit before we talk about what Bitchface did.”
“I’m still cackling over that review Rachel wrote,” Charisse said. “Best damn thing I’ve read in a long time.”
“She’s talented, that one,” Shay said.
“She did really well helping me with the order,” I replied, rubbing my neck. “I see pastry or cake decoration in her future.”
“Fucking pissed at Britt for interrupting your make-out sesh, though,” Shay said, leaning her head on her hand.
“And to tell you she’s pregnant and getting married to Roman next month? Just like that? That’s sociopath behavior,” Charisse insisted.
I nodded. “I think this is all because she saw Rachel and I enjoying ourselves at Jill’s wedding.”
Shay nodded too, sipping her tea. “Makes sense. She is burning up with jealousy, so she makes a move to get your attention.”
“I bet she’s not even pregnant,” Charisse added.
I shuddered hearing this although it didn’t exactly shock me. “You know, that’s something she would do if she felt like Roman was pulling away.”
“Are you going to the wedding?” Shay asked.
“Absolutely not,” I scoffed.
Charisse stuck her hand out. “No, no, hear me out. You should go. Take Rachel and make that bitch regret she ever blew up your wedding in the first place.”
“Uh, no.”
“I like this,” Shay said, pointing toward Charisse. “Britt wanted to break you with this news, but if you show her you’ve moved on and are happy, that will really ruin her day.”
I rubbed my eyes. “I’m not going. I need to talk to my mom in the morning and make sure she’s okay. Can’t believe they sent an invite to her as well.”
I was starting to fade. My emotions had been so high after Rachel and then so low after Britt. My head was swimming, and my eyes felt heavy.
“C’mon, hero,” Shay said, standing and gently tugging on my arm. “We’ve still got the spare room set up for you. Still have some pajamas in there from when you stayed after Britt.”
“I’ll get him a toothbrush,” Charisse said, pushing herself up from the table.
“I can go home … I?—”
“Nonsense,” Shay protested. “You know you always have a room here anytime you need it. You’ve had a crazy night. Time to get some rest, and we’ll finish talking about this in the morning.”
I smiled, truly grateful. “Thanks.”
“I think we need a little Cam sandwich before bed, what do you think, baby,” Charisse said.
Shay laughed and wrapped me up in a hug from the front while Charisse wrapped her arms around me from the back. Being here, with my friends, in this sandwich, was one of my most favorite things in the world.