No Matter What You Do

25. Invitation

11:27 P.M. Me

Back and in between classes. Talk?

Cameron

Finishing up in library. Meet me outside.

Me

Coming!

Cameron

tmi

Ihalf jog to the library in spite of the scorching rays of the sun beaming down on my skin. I’m already sweating, but this is worth it. I slow down once I see him. He’s looking fine as ever with his untamed hair and the dark Henley shirt he’s wearing, he really does love to wear them, and I’m very grateful. I want—need to have it in my hands.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t know you went to the library.”

He pulls on his ear. “Not that I don’t love our small talk…”

“Got it. To the point. Speak.”

He smiles briefly. “You want me to start this conversation?”

I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “You said something bothered you.”

“Yeah. The last thing you told me at the pier. I don’t necessarily recall saying what you said I did, but hearing that it made you want to run away sucked.”

My chest tightens at his admission. “I know. I’m sorry. In the moment I wanted to upset you.” I bump his wrist with mine. “Wasn’t true.”

“You sure?” There is a touch of doubt in his tone which tugs at my heart. Hard.

“Of course. Is what you said at the frat party true?”

He bites the inside of his cheek then considers my question. “I said it because?—”

“If you say it was just a mixture of weed and alcohol, I’ll beat you with rice.”

He grins. “I do get sappy when I mix the two, but I don’t say things like that if the feelings aren”t there already.”

My heart gets yanked even harder, and my stomach does a backflip.

Realizing he’s said too much, he opens his mouth again. “I also thought about all the other things you said at the pier a lot.” He takes my hand and looks down at my palm. “I know you were trying to mend our relationship and explain everything.” He traces my love line with his thumb. “From my perspective…it made no sense why you’d let me kiss you and hold your hand”—his eyes meet mine—“and then go off and do something so incredibly intimate with someone else. Especially if it’s your first time.

“It also hurts that you felt you needed to get that out of the way like it was a burden being a”—he lowers his voice so passersby don’t overhear my personal business—“virgin. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I also did it for another reason.”

He cocks his head, and his hand slides up to my elbow. “What was that?”

“You’re experienced. I’m not. I wanted to at least know what I was doing if…”

I stop because his free hand flies to my lips. The pad of his index finger pressed against them. “I don’t like that. Do you honestly think I care?”

I turn my head, and his hand falls down to his side. Embarrassment overflows my face.

“Would you still like me if I were a virgin?”

I pretend to consider it.

“Dude,” he laughs at my hesitation.

I roll my eyes and stare at the ground. Wow, it’s so nice and dirty today. “Yes.”

Pink grows on his cheeks, only slightly. “Good. That’s settled then.”

I let out a breath of relief. “And the Mikey thing. He saw me at the pier and apologized. That’s all.”

Cameron nods slowly and looks to my chest for a fleeting moment. Why? I have no clue. I’m not wearing a cute top or anything. I literally threw on an old Jonas Brothers shirt I got at my very first concert. “I believe you, Coleson,” he says.

“So, we’re good?”

He closes the distance between us and runs his finger through my hair. I get a tingle on my scalp at his touch. “If you’re good, I’m good,” he rasps. It sends a shiver down my spine. I find he often does that.

“I’m good.”

“Good.” He kisses the corner of my lips then presses his against my ear. “When’s your next class?”

“Half an hour.”

He pulls away to see my face. “Damn. But now I…”

“What?”

“Nothing. I just had an idea on how to confirm our relationship status. So you’re not confused anymore.”

Heat rushes to the tips of my ears. “Not with Brandy and Mikey as our roommates.”

A giant, cocky, sexy, annoying smirk forms on his face. My lower half reacts against my will. So does my heart.

“Then maybe you cross me off your list of things to do next.” He chucks my chin and teases my lips with a soft brush from his own. I release a moan, and he rewards me with a kiss. Electricity travels throughout my body. Months ago, I was appalled by his presence, but now I can’t imagine wanting to spend my days with anyone else in the entire world.

The days leading up to the Thanksgiving holiday weekend are dry. If there was anyone throwing a party, they keep their invite list small. I spend those days eating, going to class, showering, and sleeping. Living the college life my mom always wanted for me. However, there is one secret plus side. Every night since Cameron and I made up, we go on an after-dinner walk. We wait until it gets dark and stroll around campus. We mostly talk about nothing. Our favorite songs, books, our celebrity hall pass, favorite color, unrealistic goals, and so on. His being “Master of Puppets” by Metallica, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Jennifer Lawrence, azure blue, to be the best chef in the Major Leagues of Baseball. Mine being “Paranoid” by the Jonas Brothers, Harry Potter (every one), Chris Hemsworth, purple, to be the most successful novelist-slash-billionaire ever. I called him a nerd. He called me a basic white girl.

Here we are today, Cameron with his mint ice cream and me with my vanilla. Another thing that makes me basic, according to him.

“Good day?” he asks.

“Average. The pilaf I had for lunch made my stomach hurt. But then I took an ibuprofen. Brandy fell asleep and scared me with a gigantic snore.”

He sucks ice cream from his spoon then chuckles. “I wish my day was that interesting.” He’s serious. “Mikey’s been giving me these strange looks but not saying anything. Then I went to class and kept nodding off. I was waiting for it to be night so I’d get to walk with you.”

My heart pounds in my ear, and I jam my spoon in my boring vanilla. “Sorry. I feel the whole Mikey awkwardness is my fault.”

He laughs. “It is. Why’d you have to mess with roommates? Of all the guys at this school, you pick us.”

“I don’t know. He was the sweetest guy I met here, and you were the—” I cut myself off. No way am I going to open that door. I cough into my elbow and stare ahead of me into the distance.

“What?” he asks, his interest piqued. “I was what?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“Nah.”

He shoves me lightly. “Tell me.”

“I forget what I was gonna say.”

“Then I’ll guess until you blush,” he drawls.

“What time is it?” I ask, in hopes he’ll let it be. Silly me.

Cameron scoops a giant hunk of green onto his spoon and shovels it into his mouth with his tongue. Then he moans in satisfaction. “Fuck. I’ve never had something so delicious in my mouth.” I avert my eyes from his suggestive stare. “Is it because you think I’m hot?”

“No,” I answer too quickly.

“Yes, it is.” He pinches my cheek. “You’re shallow, and you only like me for my looks.”

I shake my head, obviously blushing. “You have a nice personality too.”

He gives me an ear-to-ear smile. One of the sweetest things I have ever seen. “Thanks, Coleson. Yours is all right too.”

For a few paces we’re quiet, then I check the time on my phone. On the screen is a text from my mother to both myself and David that I didn’t hear.

Mom

My loves, Thanksgiving is not going to be anything spectacular. Your father needs to be in NYC by the end of the month, and I am helping sort everything out as far as packing is concerned. Your school closes for the long weekend, so we will eat, just know there will be no official celebration.

My gut turns over, and I feel a sudden wave of depression. My dad leaves at the end of the month. Across the country. The last thing I want to do is be there when he is packing to go, but I can’t miss him when he goes.

“What is it?” Cameron asks.

I show him my phone screen. We stop walking, and he cups his hand over mine that grips my phone. Once he reads it, he lets go. I miss his touch.

“You don’t want to be home for that,” he guesses.

“But I can’t miss him.”

He is quiet for a few seconds and then bites his lip, as if he’s debating on saying something. “Come to my house for Thanksgiving. I can take you back to see your dad before he goes.” He pulls his brows together after a moment of silence. “As a friend.”

I frown. “Friend,” I repeat. This man must be high or something because we’ve been official for a while now.

Cameron slaps his forehead with his hand, cheeks pink. “Not a friend. Way more. I don’t know why I said that.”

Am I making him nervous? Does he think I’m going to reject him?

“When you say way more, you mean what?” I ask to tease him.

“What do you think? My mom would love to have you, and I’d appreciate the company.”

“I’ll see what I can do” is all I say to that, but my face shows my true excitement at his invitation. I reach my spoon over his dessert cup and scoop a bit of his dessert and suck on it as seductively as I can. Cameron pokes his tongue out and licks his lips.

“Please. It’d be nice. Usually it’s just my parents and myself. Aunts and uncles live too far away. Gets kind of lonely.”

“I want to. I’ll have to sort it out with my mom. See what she thinks.”

He rolls his eyes. I take the last bite of my dessert and discard the cup. Then I jump on Cameron’s back and wrap my arms around his neck, which nearly knocks him to the ground.

“Take me home,” I say, pressing my cheek to his.

He’s laughing. “As you wish,” he manages to say.

I reach for his cup so he can hold me up. We turn around, and he takes me toward the dorms. His grip on my thighs is tight and absolutely delightful. I feed him ice cream. Afterward, I kiss his cheek.

He drops me on my feet at our building, claiming I’m too heavy. We hold hands until we need to separate to go to our rooms. Before we part, I kiss him hard on the mouth. Like I said. It’s been dry as far as parties go on campus, and Cameron and I have not taken that next step. It’s left me wanting so much more than he’s giving, and I am way too anxiety-ridden to suggest anything.

It’s different with him. For example, his casual invitation to Thanksgiving with his family means he wants me to meet his parents, which means he’s serious. And I need to be there. I want to be there.