Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
cameron
NATALIE FELL ASLEEP ON the counter.
I watched as her body slumped, growing more and more relaxed, until she started to slide.
One arm dropped off the counter, and then her shoulder drooped, and I had a split-second decision to make—either let her drop to the floor like an anvil or swoop in to save the day.
And like hell was I going to watch her hurt herself.
So I scooped her up off the barstool just in time and tried to contain my fucking smile when she curled into my body, letting me cradle her against my chest. Her weight felt good in my arms, like I suddenly realized how empty they were without her.
Natalie barely stirred, unaware of how close she’d been to smacking her face on the floor. And honestly, that was better for everyone. She didn’t need to know.
And sure, maybe now I should wake her. But then she would have tried to play hostess some more or insist on talking to me when she really should just go the fuck to bed, or at least get a move on with her nightly wind-down routine. She had a field trip to chaperone in the morning.
So I carried her up the stairs, and her head tucked further into my chest. The creak of the floorboards didn’t wake her, and neither did the abrupt halt of my body when I walked into a bedroom that looked an awful lot like a nine-year-old girl’s.
But finally, when I backed up and tried the other available door in the hallway, her eyes flung open.
I suspected it was my voice that woke her, telling her it was time for bed.
Now that I had her up here, I wanted her more alert.
The alternative was me getting too close to that bed with Natalie.
Or too close to Natalie in a bed. It put me too close to any combination of Natalie London and a bed, which I knew to be a terrible idea.
“Oh my God,” she mumbled, looking around the room with bleary eyes. She rubbed them, and once again, I found myself thinking she was adorable. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Out cold on the counter.”
Almost out cold on the floor, too, but I didn’t say that.
She scrubbed a hand down her face. “Ugh, I’m so—”
“Don’t say sorry.”
“Fine.” She dropped her forehead to my chest, and I hope she couldn’t tell the way my pulse picked up. “I’m so…mortified?”
The words were muffled against my shirt, and I gave her a little shake to look up at me.
She did, and her green eyes bored into mine, startlingly clear.
My breath momentarily vanished, and when I didn’t say anything, Natalie bit down on her lip, tugging it between her teeth in a way that was so fucking tempting and seductive.
I knew it wasn’t on purpose, but holy hell.
And then her gaze dropped to my lips, and fuck—could I kiss her?
I just wanted to kiss this woman. At least once. I’d been waiting for six whole months.
But instead, I said, “You don’t need to be.”
She tore her gaze away from my mouth and whispered, “You can put me down.”
My movements were stiff, but I did as she directed, knowing it was for the best. Natalie landed on her feet and then immediately dropped to her bed.
I looked away, needing to not see her in a bed at the moment, especially one that looked so inviting.
It gave me a chance to take in the rest of her room, which was a decent size, considering the narrow hallways on the way up here.
It had dark trim that matched the original woodwork in the rest of the townhouse and light walls with other neutral decor that had a calming effect, like Natalie had purposefully made this room as unstimulating as she could, an oasis of sorts.
“If I knew you’d end up in my bedroom anyway, maybe I wouldn’t have bothered pushing you away that night,” Natalie said thoughtfully, pulling my attention back to her.
She was on her back now, looking up at me. Her honey-colored hair splayed out across crisp, white pillowcases, and I shoved my hands in my pockets to make sure I kept them to myself. Did she even realize what she looked like, lying there like that?
“Why don’t you want me in your bedroom, Sunny?”
I needed to know the answer to that like I needed air.
“Because it’s a bad idea,” she laughed, but it lacked humor.
“I mean, now it is,” I acknowledged, using that reminder to take a step backward, toward the door. “But why was it a bad idea before?”
She stared up at the ceiling, not meeting my eyes. “Because I hadn’t had time to practice yet.”
I stilled. “Practice what?”
“Doing all the right things.” I was about to tell her that there were no right or wrong things when it came to the bedroom, but then she added, “I mean, doing it the right way. So it doesn’t end up like last time.”
“Natalie—”
“I didn’t have time to warm up to the idea of you in my bedroom. And maybe it wasn’t going to go that far, but it felt fast. And last time, it was fast. And it ended badly.” She flopped her hand over her head. “I’m too tired to articulate myself well, Cameron.”
“You don’t have to articulate yourself well,” I insisted, even though I wanted to let her keep talking.
I wanted to hear all the thoughts Natalie kept to herself, wanted to know about the barriers in her head, the ones she put up, the ones I smacked headfirst into that fateful night.
I knew she had good reasons, and I wanted to know what they were.
“You don’t have to articulate yourself at all.
I’d actually feel better if you just went back to sleep. ”
I shouldn’t have peppered her with questions.
I knew now wasn’t the right time for this conversation, which was why I’d stopped myself short of asking a question I shouldn’t downstairs.
Maybe we could have it later, when she had the bandwidth for it.
Or, more importantly, when she wasn’t already lying in bed.
It was so incredibly distracting the way she was stretching out across her sheets. We were already toeing a very dangerous line, and I didn’t intend to make it any worse.
“Sleep sounds good,” Natalie said with another wide yawn. She stifled it with her hand before turning on her side and peering up at me with that brilliant emerald gaze. “There’s a keypad on the back door, if you don’t mind going out that way and locking it behind you. The code’s 1234.”
She collapsed into her pillow then, but I was too busy comprehending her words.
The code was what?
“Natalie,” I groaned, tipping my head back.
“What?” She looked sleepily up at me.
Adorable. Fucking adorable.
“Please change that code.” I sighed. “Tomorrow.”
“Why?” Her brows furrowed. “Do I need to worry about you breaking into my house?”
“No, that’s just the worst fucking code in the history of all codes.”
“Oh, yeah. I know.” She heaved an exhale, her lashes fluttering closed. “I can’t figure out how to change it, though. I only installed it a few days ago, but now I can’t find the instructions. So I was maybe going to buy a new one, but—”
“Okay, okay,” I interrupted but used the softest voice I could muster. Her eyes were closed again, and I didn’t want to disrupt that. We could deal with the code on the door later. I’d deal with the code on the door later. “Don’t worry about it right now.”
“Deal,” Natalie said with a sigh. Her eyes flicked open and pinned on me. “Thank you, Cameron.”
“You’re welcome,” I answered, meeting her gaze beat for beat.
It fucking simmered, and I suspected she didn’t even realize. Had no idea what she was doing to me.
It took me far too long to force my feet to move, but eventually, I took a step back. And then another.
And then I was down the stairs and out the back door, taking a picture of the lock before I left.