CHAPTER NINE
CAM
GROUP CHAT : CPK FOREVER
Me: If you dont hear from me, its because Reece finally snapped and buried my body.
Katie: What happened?
Me: He said Im the heart of his channel.
Katie: Why does that feel like the beginning of a horror movie?
Petra: Run :-0 Get on a plane. Get off the island!
Me: If this is goodbye, youre the best ride-or-die besties ever.
Petra: Well eat CPK in your memory.
GOOD MORNING, DARESQUAD! Its a beautiful day here in paradise with my favorite girl!
I burrow deeper into the silk sheets, convinced Im trapped in a fever dream. Because that voice? That cheerful, borderline chipper tone? That cant be
My eyes crack open, confirming that yes, I am, in fact, awake. The Maui morning fills our wall-less love nest with golden light, the gauzy curtains dancing in the salt-kissed breeze. Outside, waves crash against the shore in a steady rhythm that would be soothing if I wasnt currently questioning my grip on reality.
Standing on the balcony, filming, is Reece.
A grinning Reece.
A happy, fun, almost bouncy Reece.
This cant be real.
He turns to me with tousled dark hair, sunlit blue eyes, and an expression way too cheerful for a guy who just yesterday was all grumbles and gargoyle.
And good morning to you, my beautiful girlfriend.
What fresh hell is this?
The mattress dips as he plops onto the edge of our bed, camera phone pointed directly at my face. How did you sleep? Did you dream of me? Of penguins?
Im about to tell him where he can shove his device, when I see a chat exploding across his screen in real-time. Hearts and emojis flood upward like a technical tidal wave.
Hijo de puta! I dive under the covers, yanking the blankets over my head. Youre doing a LIVE?!
My heart pounds against my ribs. Betrayal. Hes beaming me to the internet me , pre-makeup, in full bedhead mode. No warning. No prep time. Total surprise: heres your favorite YouTubers sleep-deprived, unwashed, possibly feral girlfriend.
Sorry, DareSquad. Reece chucklesactually chuckles. Cams not an early bird.
Buried in blankets, I am dying.
Hes live. Hes live. Hes live.
I cantyou cant I mumble through the blanket. Im not camera ready!
My tongue feels like its wearing a sweater, and Im pretty sure theres dried drool on my chin. Not to mention my breath could wilt flowers. This is not the kind of content that Gordon wants to save the channel.
Im sure the comments section is already sharpening their pitchforks.
The mattress shifts again, and suddenly Reeces head appears next to mine beneath the sheets. Cam, youre always gorgeous. He pulls back the blanket, exposing my face to his millions of viewers. Look at her. No makeup. No filters. Just real beauty. Tell her you agree.
The replies whir in faster than a high-speed elevator:
Cam is STUNNING!
Those EYES, holy shit!
Excuse me? She wakes up looking like that?
HER SKIN IS GLOWING WTF!
Wifey her up, Reece!
Okay, what? My brain slams into a brick wall.
Reece nods happily. See? Told you. Youre beautiful.
He pulls me up to sit beside him, and the comments take a turn:
Damn, her curves though.
Bro, I would sell my soul to lay on those thighs.
Them titties looking juicy even in
His grin vanishes and his expression sharpens, eyes darkening.
Hold on, guys, he says smoothly, his voice dipped in warning. Lets keep it PG. Im sharing my girlfriend with you, but not all of her. His free hand settles on my hip, warm and possessive, and my skin blazes.
The chat explodes again:
OPE, he said my girlfriend.
Oh hes claiming her, claiming her!
Reece being a protective king rn.
Daddy Dare just put us in our place.
Okay but how do I apply to be Cam?
I fixate on Reece, suspicious as hell, hugging the sheets to my chest, my mind firing off ten million questions. Who is this person? And what has he done with my grumpy boss?
Thanks, everyone, I manage, my voice hesitant, my face heating under the unexpected wave of compliments. You guys are really sweet.
I start to gather up my hair, butno scrunchie on my wrist. My lifeline to appearing semi-human has abandoned me. My eyes frantically dart around our sex circus of a bed.
You looking for this? My roommate dangles my hair tie like hes teasing a cat with a pom pom on a stick.
I snatch it and quickly twist my chaos waves into something thathopefullyredeems me from my current attacked-by-a-leaf-blower aesthetic.
Cam always has a scrunchie, he says into the lens. Like, always. She takes filming very seriously.
He noticed that?
I keep it close in case I need something to strangle you with.
He laughs. Theres the feisty girl the squad needs to see. And thats the perfect transition to tell everyone what were doing today.
Oh geez. More public humiliation, and I havent even had my first cup of coffee. Whats next? A live broadcast of me crawling under the bed, half-naked, trying to escape?
I need to admit something to Cam, and I want you all to be a part of it.
Dont panic. Act natural. I stare at my uncomfortable reflection on the screen.
No, not that naturalyoure giving off serial killer vibes.
Smile! Not that kind of smile, you lunatic. You look like youre gonna bite someone.
Just cross your armswait, no, now your boobs are the main event.
STOP GIVING THE INTERNET A SHOW, CAMILA!
A lot of you know Cam is my new girlfriend, Reece continues, but you may not know that shes also my right-hand woman behind the scenes. He turns those intense blue eyes on me. How long have you been my videographer, Morales?
Uh, two years? I manage, wondering if this is an elaborate setup to fire me on a livestream for views.
And have I been an asshole to you that entire time?
My eyes fly wide open because WHAT IS HAPPENING?
Ill answer for her. Yes. I have been, he says, his tone serious now. Making content for you can get super stressful. And I am not always the most pleasant off camera. So I am publicly apologizing to Cam for being a total douchebag. For not acknowledging how important she is. Guys, without her, this channel would be shaky selfies and stock footage with voiceovers. This filming powerhouse is literally in the trenches with me. Shes a warrior, and its time I told her.
Um, excuse me? Did I die? Am I in a coma? Because Reece Darethe man who once said my drone footage looked like it was shot by a drunk, one-winged pigeonis actually saying
You see, Cams the one who has filmed all your favorite videos for the last two years. Shes scaled buildings, jumped out of planes, and done it all like a pro. But not once did I thank her. I have never told her how freakishly talented she is. His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking beneath the stubble. Which is a total dick move.
My newly enlightened boss looks at me, his eyes brimming with sincerity. He squeezes my thigh softly, like hes got something to say but wants to keep it between us.
Quick, drop in the chat your favorite video Cam has filmed.
The responses fly in faster than Blazes attention span:
Skateboard Rooftop EscapeGirls got SKILLZ.
The Haunted Asylum Onethat angle when the door slammed? CHILLS.
OMG THE PLANE JUMP. HOW DID SHE FILM AND NOT DIE?
That underwater shark cage stunt had me SHOOK. Cams got bigger balls than my boyfriend.
Shes a total badass.
Im speechless. Comment after comment, all praising me . Im just the behind-the-scenes girl, framing shots and editing this pranksters crazy stunts into something watchable. The internet saw his face, his daring antics, his irresistible charm.
Not me.
But here they are, calling me a badass.
I swallow, pressing my lips together as if that will somehow contain the weirdly emotional reaction brewing in my ribcage. I mean, you were the one performing the stunt in midair. I was
Filming while skydiving, Reece cuts in, deadpan. Thats like saying, I was only casually texting while riding a unicycle through a minefield.
I open my mouth to argue, but he barrels forward, eyes glinting like hes only getting started.
Actually, lets put this into perspective. Cam, how many videos do you think weve filmed together in the last few years?
I dont know. A hundred?
Reece lets out a low whistle. Yikes. Thats more than I thought. A grin spreads across his facethe kind that usually means someones getting pushed into a pool dressed as a giant taco. Then thats what I have to make up for. One hundred sorries for being a prickwad douchecanoe.
He winks at me, and my thighs press together like theyre muffling a secret.
No editing. No take-backs. Were continuing this live so you can see every second of my pain.
Thats really not necessary.
Yes it is! He bounds onto our circular bed, waving his hand by the sensor and making it spin. So stay with me and smash that Like button, because Im spending the next twenty-four hours humiliating myself in todays video, Camila Morales, Please Forgive Me for Being a Total Dick Challenge!
Oh no no no, youre forgiven! I flail my hands, stopping the bed from spinning. Really. Were good. Clean slate. Look, Ill even pinky swear!
Nice try. Im not getting off that easy. I must pay for my insults. Now, you better move. We have to be at the beach in twenty minutes.
I stare at him, my stomach doing more flips than an Olympic gymnast. What on Earth is going on? Why is he apologizing to me?
Wait.
No.
Hes not apologizing. He is performing an apology.
The realization is a rogue surfboard to the face. Its not real. This is content. Prime clickbait material: Grumpy YouTubers Redemption Arc or Watch Me Grovel For Views!
Im another prop in his latest viral video.
But then he smiles at me again, that genuine, unguarded smile where his eyes crinkle at the corners, and my heart straight-up ignores my brains THIS IS FAKE warning sirens.
Stupid heart.
It needs to re-read the fine print in our fake relationship contract.
***
Something is seriously wrong with Reece.
Were walking to the beachor rather, Im walking while he pirouettes down the path. Hes a one-man musical number, twirling and leaping as if the guys on the lead float in a parade called Everything Is Awesome.
His phone is held high, livestreaming every over-the-top, horrifyingly wholesome second of what Ive officially deemed his complete mental breakdown.
Oh my gosh, is that a butterfly? He gasps, stopping mid-spin and clutching his chest. Everyone, check out its wings! Nature is so incredible.
His voice actually cracks with emotion.
I am terrified.
Cam! Tell the chat what you love most about Hawaii!
Uh that on most days, my boss isnt having a full-blown personality transplant?
He throws his head back and laughs. Shes hilarious! Isnt she hilarious? And beautiful. Andhey there! Kais best friend!
Before I can process the whiplash, Reece takes off like a golden retriever who just spotted its favorite UPS driver. The poor resort worker, wearing an Aloha, Im Kais best friend name tag, looks fully unprepared to be body-slammed by joy incarnate.
Kai has tons of best friends, but Im guessing you are the best best best of best friends. Reece announces to his live audience of millions, This guy makes the most incredible towel swans Ive ever seen. Dude, you are an artist. A visionary. A towel-folding genius!
I latch on to the filming lunatics arm and drag him away, thoroughly apologizing to the employee.
Reece, I hiss, did Kais war hammer hit you in the head? Because youre acting like Blaze after ten DareFuel drinks.
Im spreading joy, Sunshine! He throws an arm around my shoulders, flashing his unhinged smile. Its disturbing.
His followers in the thread explode:
HE CALLED HER SUNSHINE OMG!
Hes so in love with her its painful.
SOMEONE BOTTLE THIS ENERGY IMMEDIATELY!
New DareFuel flavor, Reeces Crush Rush!
Would you look at this magical paradise! He spins around, arms spread wide as if hes starring in The Sound of Music . The weather is perfect!
Its literally the same weather as yesterday. And the day before. Because were in Maui.
Exactly! Another perfect day. Thanks, Mother Nature. I love and appreciate you! He blows a kiss to the sun.
I size him up. Now might be a good time to spring the news about my new channel launch. I bet Pixie Dream Reece will say yes to anything. Then again, exploiting someone mid-mental breakdown feels wrong. Stupid conscience.
And do you know who else I love and appreciate? he asks.
I try to flee, but he grabs my shoulders, yanking me into frame. This goddess right here.
The chat has feelings on that statement:
Goddess Cam confirmed, bow down peasants.
brO DIDNT EVEN BLINK. HE MEANT THAT.
KING AND HIS GODDESS, THIS SHIP SAILS ITSELF.
How he hypes his girl. #RelationshipGoals.
Are you okay?
Never better! He beams. Lets do a Q
No. No, lets not.
Too late. A question appears:
Describe Cam in three words.
Reece gasps dramatically. Only three?? He angles toward me, dead serious. Thats impossible.
Oh God.
Radiant. Spectacular. Visionary.
Please stop
No, wait! Magnificent. Extraordinary. Phenomenal.
I yank the phone down, genuine concern flooding my system. Blink twice if you need help.
Instead, he skips away, high-fives a resort worker, and oh God hugs a palm tree.
A PALM TREE.
I catch up to him as hes thanking the tree for providing shade and asking permission to climb it.
Um, Reece, how about we go back to the room?
His grin widens. Cant a guy appreciate life? And you? AndOH MY GOD, IS THAT A SEASHELL?
He sprints toward the beach, leaving me standing there. So this is how it feels when your boss has a psychotic break live on camera.
I chase after him, and maybe, just maybe, his giddiness isnt completely unwarranted. This beach is absurdly gorgeous, like its showing off. Okay, nature, we see youyoure breathtaking.
The waves are rolling in like they rehearsed all night, the golden sand is soft and warm like a freshly baked croissant, and the sun is casting everything in that obnoxiously romantic glow that makes people book vacations they cant afford.
And right in the middle of it all an art class?
Rows of wooden easels stand proudly on the shore. Each holds a pristine, blank canvas waiting to be blessedor brutally assaultedby creativity. Low stools dot the setup, tiny wooden palettes stacked neatly on tables covered in old paint splatters.
I hope youre good at painting, Morales.
Im okay. I shrug, watching other resort guests settle onto their stools.
Thats Cam code for Im amazing, he tells his viewers.
I promise you, its not, I say, throwing my hands up in surrender. I swear. Stop hyping me up. Ill be lucky to create an inkblot test for serial killers. People are going to be disappointed.
Impossible. He grins. Everything you do is spectacular.
Our gazes lock, and for a second, my heart forgets its rhythm. This sinfully attractive menace is staring at me with an intensity that makes my toes curl. I grab his face, squishing his cheeks together until he resembles a very handsome fish.
Reece. Listen carefully. Did Kai give you something? Something in a drink? Maybe a mysterious powder? A tea infused with illegal substances?
Cam, Cam, Cam. He leans in, forehead nearly touching mine.
My breath catches.
His voice drops, serious for the first time all morning.
Im just really, really happy to be here with you.
And then, like a true psychopath, he boops my nose.
See, guys? This woman is literally the most honest, nicest, most gifted person I know. And Ive been a complete, unforgivable asshole. So here is my first sorry of the day.
I accept your apology. Now lets go get some breakfast.
Oh, its not that easy. I have to earn your forgiveness.
I dont like the way he says earn . Theres too much mischief in him. Like a kid who recently found the Dont Push Me button that blows up the world but cant resist.
Before I can question him, he takes me by the shoulders and physically moves me into position at an art station. My seat wobbles in the sand, and I grab on to the tiny folding table to steady myself. Theres already a small group of artists assembled around me, most of them older women in breezy resort wear, clutching glasses of wine.
This is your spot, front row billing, Reece announces, making a grand gesture toward the easel like hes presenting me to an audience. All set?
I narrow my eyes at him, but he turns and skips away.
A woman in her seventies leans over and winks. Oh, honey, youre in for a treat.
That sounds ominous.
Reece climbs onto the stage under the thatched-roof canopy, where a giant banner reads Paint t comprehend how unholy it will be.
He adjusts the tripod and fine-tunes his shot, ensuring hes front and center before facing the artists. Even crazy, he looks stupidly hot.
Welcome, everyone! For those of you who dont know me, Im Reece Dare. And today, in the spirit of humiliation and forgiveness, Im doing something a little different.
He subtly angles the camera. Whats he trying to show the livestream viewers that we cant see from our beachfront seats? I quickly pull out my phone and jump onto his live. To my relief, the shot seems normal. Its a close-up of Reece, highlighting his DareSquad tee.
Phew, crisis averted.
Camila Morales, this is for never appreciating you enough. My humiliation is nothing compared to the regret that haunts me. I made you feel unseen and unappreciated. Then, with a smirk that sends a shiver down my spine, he adds, So consider this payback for the unforgettable view of your killer naked body in the shower.
And without warning, he strips.
Totally.
Naked.
Pause everything, because my life is rushing past me like a highlight reel. Every decision, every path that led me hereeach one more questionable than the last.
And holy mother of abs.
The man is art.
Its not fair.
Shoulders? Massive. Arms? Tattooed perfection. Chest? Absurd. Stomach? What even is that V-cut?
And then theres his
NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE.
Abort mission! Avert Eyes!
My lungs collapse. My vision goes blurry. My internal scream factory malfunctions.
The crowd loses their collective minds, especially the elderly woman wearing bifocals holding down the last row.
Catcalls. Cheers. Paintbrushes are being thrown.
Reece poses like a chiseled naked bachelor at an auction, one arm flexed, the other casually resting on his hip, chest gleaming, legs spread.
I CANNOT.
I snap my gaze to my phone screen, desperately making sure the entire internet is not getting any full-frontal.
Okay. Crisis somewhat averted. The live-stream is only framed on his bare chestwhich is still an act of violence because those pecs were hand-carved by Zeus himself.
The chat is out of control:
brO WHAT IN THE FANFICTION IS THIS?
SOMEONE SCREEN RECORD.
DADDY DARE IS OUT HERE brEAKING THE INTERNET.
GOD IS REAL AND HE WANTS US TO BE HAPPY.
Oh, fuck. Its official.
The man has indeed lost his goddamn mind.
Please be kind with your brush strokes. Its a tad chilly up here. he says, winking at me.
Sweetie, youve got zero reasons to be shy! the bifocaled woman next to me hollers.
This is an all-out emergency situation. Like, code red, pull the fire alarm, hide all the sharp objects before this man shaves his head.
My phone buzzes.
Gordon: What the fuck am I watching?
Oh God. This is bad. This is career-ending bad. This is Gordon Will Turn Me Into Protein Powder bad. I can already picture the LinkedIn headline: Former Videographer Seeking Work Previous Experience Includes Breaking YouTubes Biggest Star.
Career? Over.
Dreams? Dead.
Sanity? Hanging on by a thread.
But I have bigger problems than Gordons impending wrath. Because right now the throb between my legs has officially escalated into a magnitude 7.9 sexual earthquake. According to my contract, there is only one man Im allowed to let fix it. And from where Im sitting, he looks extremely overqualified for the job.
A dangerous thought slithers into my mind. Maybe we should practice ya know to appear convincing on camera? For the brand. For content.
My inner voicewhich sounds suspiciously like Kaiwhispers: It would be more believable if you knew how his body felt against yours. You need to map every inch of those muscles with your fingers and your lips
I clutch my paintbrush tighter, wishing I could concentrate on anything but the way his muscles ripple when he moves. Its no use. My logical left brain has been sidelined, replaced by pure, throbbing all-kinds-of-right brain desire.
Ay, Dios mo! I cant give in to these thoughts.
Sure, hes been blessed by the dick fairy.
And yes, I might actually combust from sexual frustration.
But no, Im not letting him know that.
You hear that, Mr. Boss Man? A few sweet words and a striptease dont erase two years of criticism. The grump is still in there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to pounce and knock me back down.
Whats with all these compliments anyway? Cams so talented this and Shes incredible that. Its for the audience, another performance for his precious DareSquad, right? Its seriously messing with my head.
Those yearning, stupidly blue eyes, every time he says something nice, each accidental touch that has my skin begging for more; I will not let him see how much he affects me.
I suck in a long, deep breath of salty ocean air, hoping itll cool the raging inferno that is my damn libido. Nope. Still hot. Still wildly unhinged.
Like hell will I reveal what hes doing to me. No way can he know that I lie awake most nights, imagining his big hands and hungry mouth claiming me. No! Not happening. Not today, Satan.
Because hes my boss. And the jerks made it abundantly clear that hes not into merepeatedly, consistently, and with an impressive variety of criticism. Especially when the cameras not on.
But still, a tiny, relentless voice in the back of my mind wont shut up. What if hes as consumed by this as me? What if this daring man is feeling the same electric charge? What if we gave in?
I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away. No, I cannot go there. Cant let myself hope. Reece is acting insane today; tomorrow hell be back to normal. I gotta stay strong and maintain focus. Hes off-limits and a jerk. Ignore him calling you gorgeous. Push down how intensely your body is responding.
I tighten my grip on the paintbrush, forcing my eyes to return to the canvas. Im going to finish this painting and prove to myself that I can resist him. I will control these crazy, reckless desires.
Ive spent years being told that I am not good enough. He doesnt get to flip the script in one afternoon. No way in hell does he get the satisfaction of knowing how badly I crave him.