Chapter 33 The Party
The party
The party has wound down now.
Theo’s mum came and picked him up. He’s twenty-one, still lives at home and is very much a mumma’s boy.
Camille, Danielle and Renae are dancing, singing a terrible version of “Toxic” by Britney Spears.
Tyler sits on the lounge watching them. His fists clench tighter each time Renae brushes Danielle’s waist. His jaw twitches like he’s chewing on something bitter.
Is he jealous? I don’t think he has anything to worry about, but again. How would I know? I have no idea what Danielle’s sexual orientation is.
Camille walks over to me laughing, putting her hand on my arm and lays her head on my chest. “I need to go to bed.”
“Want me to walk you to your room?”
It is only ten feet away, but I want to spend more time with her.
She nods, then turns back to the group. “I’m going to bed. Night!”
They wave goodbye to her while they keep dirty dancing together. Tyler still watching them.
We reach her doorway, and I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed.
Her smile is soft. Her eyes tired.
She’s fiddling with the necklace I gave her. I reach out and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
She stops fiddling and rises onto her tippy toes to plant a kiss to my cheek. It lands so close to the side of my lips.
I feel it like a zing, my breath catching.
Her lips linger before she pulls away, looking down.
Does she feel this too? Or am I imagining this chemistry?
“Thanks again,” she says to the floor. “For the paints. The brushes. All of it.”
“You’re welcome,” my voice is low. I lift her chin and make her look at me. “You deserve stuff like that.”
I want to kiss her. I want to tell her how I feel. But I don’t want to scare her away.
Before I can make a move she pulls back and smiles. “Goodnight, Luc.”
“Night, Angel.”
She closes the door gently and I lean my forehead against it.
Fuck, I want her.
But she’s off-limits.
Roommate.
Friend.
And yet…
She feels like so much more.
I head back out to the group. Tyler hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch. Renae and Danielle’s dance is becoming more sexual.
“Night guys.” I wave. But they’re all too distracted to notice me.
So I make my way to my room. Forcing my feet to keep walking—so I don’t turn around and barge into Camille’s room and show her exactly how I feel.
I end up leaning against the shower wall, holding my cock. Thinking about Camille.
I can’t get that night between us out of my head. Having her around is testing my restraint, but I will not make a move on her without her asking for it.
But when I’m alone? I will definitely be thinking of her. Of her thighs around me, my cock taking her. I pump my fist faster, knowing it won’t take me long. It never does when I think about her.
I spill my release over the white tile.
Then I go to bed, thinking of her still.