Chapter 30 #3
Eyes still closed, he shakes his head, the movement causing my hands to slide down to his neck. And while I’m desperate to hear his thoughts, I force myself to be patient. To wait, for what feels like an eternity, for him to weigh and measure his words.
But the most heartbreaking part is I can see him grappling with his mask, doing everything he can to slip it back on. But he can’t. Not when it’s lying shattered at his feet, in complete disrepair, leaving him bare and exposed.
Leaving him visible for me to watch, helplessly, as anxiety, fear, and uncertainty shreds him apart.
“It was real for me too. I just…” He trails off and clears his throat, but the words still come out ragged. “With how much we’ve talked about always being second best or living in someone else’s shadow, I couldn’t…”
His forehead falls to mine, and a choked laugh leaves him, causing the air to whisper over my lips. “You told me I wasn’t a night or two, but after everything… How was I supposed to believe anything different?”
Tears form in the corners of my eyes, only to spill over as I nod.
“And that kills me, baby. It kills me to know you’ve spent the past year and a half thinking you were ever a second choice when you’re the only choice. That I could ever want only a night or two, when I want every fucking night. Because all those feelings? They never went away.”
My voice is already coming out over shattered glass, but I force myself to keep going, to make sure every single card lies on the table for him to see, because I’ll be damned if I have to live another goddamn minute without knowing I did everything I could to win him back.
“I still want you. I still love you, Cam. The real question is if you could love me, even after all the shit I’ve put you through.”
There’s a beat of silence while I feel his throat working to swallow beneath my palms, and he shakes his head. And in that moment, I’m fully prepared for him to say no. To tell me I’ve lost my chance, that I’ve damaged this beyond repair.
But then he lets out a watery laugh, and I feel the tears that had welled on his lashes finally spill over.
“God, I never stopped, Lo. No matter how much I wish I could.”
His admission has my breath catching in my chest, and I shake my head once, twice, while sliding my fingers into the hair at the base of his skull.
“Please, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
And then my willpower vanishes, and I press my mouth to his like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. Like the air in his lungs is the only thing keeping my heart beating. Who knows? Maybe it is, because as soon as he kisses me back, it’s the most alive I’ve felt since that fateful day.
I taste the salt of our tears where our lips meet, and I use my thumbs to wipe them away before kissing him harder. Fiercer. Putting every ounce of regret and sorrow and guilt I can into this, and hoping like hell he’ll forgive me for all the pain I’ve caused.
Camden’s hands land on my waist, dragging me against his rock-solid body as he deepens the kiss.
I can feel every muscle, carved from hard work and dedication, through the fabric of his suit, and my own hands leave his face to wander.
He’s become more bulky and defined in places between college and now, but every bit of him still feels familiar.
Feels like home.
His grip slides lower still, moving over my ass before cupping the back of my thighs and lifting me onto the balustrade. A shiver runs up my spine when my ass hits the cool stone, a delicious juxtaposition from the heat coursing through my body as we continue devouring each other.
Positioning himself between my thighs, he anchors an arm around my lower back to keep me from falling, but also to pull me flush against him. We’re perfectly aligned now, and he rocks his hips forward, letting me feel the ridge of his erection pressing into my own aching cock.
Something between a moan and whimper slips out of him at the contact, and I swallow it down greedily. Every little bit of him I can have, I take. Because there’s no telling when this moment will end—when the spell will break and reality will sneak back in.
My hand dips between us, palming his cock over his pants and giving it a firm stroke. It earns me another groan, but it’s not enough. I need more of those sinful little noises the same way I crave getting my hands and mouth on his body again.
To worship it, to relearn it.
To make it mine again.
His hips arch, pressing into my waiting palm while his teeth sink into my lower lip, biting down hard enough for me to gasp out in pain. And from the low, appreciative hum he makes before layering his mouth over mine again, that may have been the point.
But that’s fine. If he wants this rough and punishing, I can take it.
I’ll take whatever he throws at me as long as it means he’ll forgive me. That we’ll finally put all of this pain in the past and find our way forward.
My fingers move to his belt, looking to work it open and let him have his way with me, here and now. But the second I get the buckle undone, he breaks away.
“Fuck, Lo,” he pants before clearing his throat. “What are we doing?”
“Do you wanna stop?”
“That would be the smart thing to do.”
My heart sinks to my stomach, and I pull back, meeting his gaze. I know he’s right. I know we need to talk more, to figure things out, but—
“I don’t wanna be smart right now,” I whisper. “I just want you.”
He stares down at me, a flash of hesitation in his eyes, and for a brief second, I think he’s going to say no or walk away. But then he links his fingers with mine, pulls me off the balustrade.
“Then take me to your room.”