Chapter 19 Red bikini
Red bikini
That didn’t sound like nothing.
What the fuck was that noise?
Camille’s crying. Her hands are shaking, and she’s pale. I can see it—something happened just then. Something between them. I knew she was anxious all day, but this… this is different. Her walls are up, but I can feel her spiraling behind them.
Tyler distracts her, helping her load the last of her things. She doesn’t notice when I turn and head back inside.
I walk straight up to Sean, who’s sitting on the couch, face in his hands, shoulders hunched. There’s a hole in the plaster beside him—fist-sized and fresh.
So that’s what the noise was.
I clench my jaw, forcing myself to take a breath before I say something I’ll regret. I need to stay calm. I need to be smart. Even though every cell in my body is screaming at me to protect.
Who the fuck does that? Who explodes like that when a woman is just trying to leave?
Sean looks up at me, his eyes red and full of tears. I don’t want to pity him.
“You need to stay the fuck away from her,” I say, voice low and even. “I’m serious, Sean. You need to leave her alone. You don’t speak to her unless she chooses to speak to you first. Do you understand me?”
He just stares at me. No fight in him this time. Just slumped regret—or maybe self-pity. Hard to tell with guys like him.
“I swear to God,” I continue, stepping closer, “if you so much as breathe wrong in her direction, you’ll be dealing with me. And you won’t like how that ends.”
He tries to stand, and wobbles, like his legs forgot how to work. He was clearly drunk or high when we got here today, but it’s got worse since. He can barely stand now.
Before he has the chance to stand or say a word, I walk out. Not giving him the satisfaction of a response. I don’t need to hear whatever bullshit he has to say.
I just wanna get Cammie home safely.
Outside, Camille and Tyler are almost done. Neither of them seems to notice I disappeared. I fall back into step beside them and help finish packing the last box into the ute.
We drive home in silence.
She sits beside me, staring out the window. Her arms are crossed tight against her chest, like she’s trying to hold herself together. I want to reach for her. I want to say something—anything—to take this weight off her. But I know when to talk, and I know when to just be there.
She doesn’t need my words right now.
She just needs space.
She needs time to breathe, to process.
We get her things inside, and for the first time all day, I see her shoulders relax. It’s subtle, but it’s there. The weight she’s been carrying isn’t gone, but it’s less burdened now.
I turn to her. “Take your time to unpack and get settled. There’s nothing off-limits here.
Treat this place like your home for now.
I’m cooking Sunday roast tonight, so you can come out for dinner, or come hang with us today if you’re feeling up for it.
” I can’t help myself, I pull her into a hug.
And then Tyler steps in and wraps his arms around us too.
“Roomies,” he says with a grin.
Camille actually laughs. That sound alone makes all of this worth it.
“Thank you both for helping me today,” she says softly. “I’m gonna go unpack.”
“Just holler if you need anything,” I tell her, meaning every word.
I’m surprised when barely an hour later, she comes out of her room.
Wearing a red bikini.
My brain short-circuits.
My jaw practically on the floor.
Yeah, I’ve seen her naked already. But somehow, seeing her like this in the sunlight, in my house… it feels different.
Dangerous. Like a memory come to life that I really want to relive.
Fuck. I need to stop.
I can’t be looking at her like that, not after what she just went through today.
“You wanna join me for a swim?” Her eyes are playful. There’s a smile on her lips that dares me to say no. And even if I wanted to resist, the answer’s already locked in my throat.
“Yep.” I follow her outside, trying to act like I’m cool, like this isn’t undoing me.