25. Ivy
IVY
I push my breakfast around with my fork—bacon, eggs, and toast that should smell delicious but instead makes acid climb my throat. And I barely even see the food on the plate.
My eyes won’t focus.
My mind only able to concentrate on one thing.
And it sure as hell isn’t eating.
The same questions I somehow managed to lock away last night, long enough to give in to my merciless attraction to Cam, are screaming in my head now. An incessant spiral of guilt, shame, and disbelief over everything that has happened—that I’ve allowed to happen—has left me dizzy and unsettled.
My stomach roils violently, and my eyes burn with tears I’ve been fighting all morning. Since I woke in Cam’s arms and fell back into him so easily and completely, let him take command of my body again, and again, and again, until we finally came up for air—and breakfast.
Which he insisted I needed.
Given the…exertion of the last twelve hours, he’s probably right.
Every muscle is sore in the best way possible. The aches remind me of how utterly Camden consumed me—enough that I was able to forget. Or at least, pretend to for a glorious period of time that eventually had to come to an end.
And it did end.
The moment we stepped out of his building and he lit up that cigarette.
Watching him take that long drag and blow out the smoke was like flipping a switch in my head, reminding me of that first time he warned me away and all the reasons he was right that I was not privy to.
All the deception.
Not just on his part, either.
And that’s what hurts the most.
Drew’s lies—the ones I built our life together on…
“Ivy?” Cam’s voice draws me out of the haze of disbelief, anger, and self-loathing, and I glance up at him across from me in the booth at the diner down the street from his studio.
As he watches me, his eyes still hold that same edge of uncertainty that they did when we climbed onto his bike this morning, but they also swim with steely determination. “You need to stop .”
I clear the lump from my throat. “Stop what?”
He raises a dark brow at me, his hand tightening around his mug of shitty coffee sitting next to his empty plate.
Because apparently he had absolutely no problem eating this morning, but I can’t seem to bring myself to take more than a few bites, my stomach churning, acid billowing up, along with all the emotions that want to choke me.
And somehow, Cam seems to see all of it through the wall of forced smiles, nods, and idle chit-chat I’ve tried to maintain.
This man knows me, while so much of him is such a mystery that he doesn’t seem inclined to want to share with me.
But he clearly has something to say now as he shifts forward slightly, resting his elbows on the Formica tabletop. “You need to stop second-guessing your entire relationship with Drew.”
I recoil slightly at being so blatantly called out when I haven’t said a word about Drew or anything Cam revealed since we ruined that canvas last night. “That’s not what I’m doing…”
That brow of his stays up in accusation and disbelief. “Isn’t it?”
He holds my gaze, the sharpness of the blue in his like piercing ice straight through my soul. It shreds me, so easily getting down to the core of everything that’s been billowing inside of me since I learned the truth.
All the emotions that want to smother me and bring me back to that horrible place I was in before Cam appeared in my life.
I finally let my fork clatter to the plate, giving up the pretense of actually eating when he clearly knows I’m not.
“I just don’t…” Dropping my face into my palms, I rest my elbows on the table and release a long sigh.
“I just don’t know how I’m supposed to… I don’t know”—pulling my head back, I throw my hands up with a frustrated noise in my throat—“ process any of this.”
Last night and this morning were…a beautiful distraction I let myself drift away in so I wouldn’t have to deal with the hard things. The questions and feelings that I knew would end up making me like this—a quivering mess.
I let myself give in to this attraction to Cam, submitted to whatever this magnetic pull is that keeps bringing me back to him—apparently from the first fucking second we met.
But now, in the bright light of day, sitting across from him, knowing the truth, my whole life looks different.
Every single word that was spoken. Every shared kiss and touch. Every thing that happened over the last four years with Drew seems like it was a lie, like it was something else entirely than the life I thought I had lived.
So much of what made my relationship with Drew so special, what I loved so much about it and him, was that he was always so open. So honest with his emotions. And he had the ability to pry out what was bothering someone so they could talk about it and move past those things that held them back.
And now, even that feels like a lie.
When he was keeping something so big from me…
Cam reaches out and grasps my hand, squeezing it gently, and that simple touch sends a little thrill racing through me as every inch of my body remembers that touch.
The way he worshipped me last night.
Not just with his hands.
But with his mouth.
His cock.
Every fiber of my being still buzzes from it.
A relentless, pulsating thrum that seems to rush in my blood and heat me from my core outward to every limb.
Yet all of it, everything we shared, is now tangled up in the lie that started that night. The lie Drew maintained for so long so he could pretend like it hadn’t happened.
Cam brushes his thumb across my knuckles, and I watch his lazy, comforting strokes. “Just because it was me that night doesn’t change anything that happened between you and Drew after it.”
I jerk my head up to look at him. “How can you say that?” My mouth opens and closes a few times as I try to make sense of any of it, but the longer I attempt to find reason in the lies, the harder it becomes to rein in my emotions. “Of course it changes things.”
It changes everything.
Each day we spent together. Each night in bed. Each and every one of them was built on that lie that he perpetuated.
I pull my hand out from under his and shove it back through my hair, unable to concentrate on anything rational when he’s touching me, even so innocently.
“He knew , Cam.” A little mirthless laugh floats from my lips.
“He fucking knew that something had happened between us out in your mother’s yard, and he never told me.
He never came clean and told me it was you.
He never told me the truth .” I scan the diner around us to ensure no one is at the tables close by and dip my head closer to him. “We slept together that night.”
Cam flinches slightly at my confession but does his best to try to hide it.
“It was our first time together and…” I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to stop myself from spiraling the way I want to into all the questions, all the lies he must have told.
“I mean, was that all because he was trying to…one-up whatever happened between the two of us?” That thought seizes my chest. My breaths come in hard, short pants, my vision blurring.
“Was…any of it even fucking real or just some game he had to win with you?”
Pure panic clutches at me.
Threatening to make me lose control of myself in this very public place.
“Stop.” Cam’s command comes low, deep, filled with the absolute potency to end my spiraling with that simple word.
His hard eyes bore into mine, holding me captive, preventing me from looking away.
“Nothing that happened between you and Drew was a lie. None of it. When I walked into the yard that night, I already knew all about you. I had already seen all his pictures from your first several dates. He had sent me your goddamn social media links so I could check you out because he was already falling in love with you. He told me that he knew you were the girl he was going to marry after he met you the first time, remember?”
I nod.
Cam had told me that the last time I melted down about the secrets Drew was keeping, and I believed him then.
But that was before.
Now, I know the truth about the start of our relationship, and it makes everything after it seem so tainted.
“He was obsessed with you from day fucking one, Ivy, and all he ever wanted was to be with you. So, none of it was a lie. None of it.”
“But—”
His eyes sharpen even more, leaving no room to argue with him further. “No buts, Ivy. I was the selfish fucking prick. Anything Drew did after that point wasn’t about my betrayal or some game; it was about how he always felt about you. And I need you to understand and believe that.”
The way he emphasizes the word need . The forcefulness of his stare and voice. The wall of emotions that appears to be bottled up behind his gaze and ready to unleash, all send goosebumps skittering over my skin.
My chest tightens, my lungs threatening to stop as I try to swallow through the sob that wants to slip out and embarrass me in front of all the customers in the diner.
Several people already cast furtive glances at us, and I’m sure I look a mess after what we did last night—and this morning.
And I am a mess.
Far more than what I must appear like on the outside.
Tears blur my vision, then slide hot down my cheeks. “He lied to me about so many things…”
Cam presses his lips together tightly. “Only because I forced him to.”
I shake my head. “You never forced him to do anything. He could have told me that night. He could have told me any time. He could have explained it to me when I asked him what happened between the two of you, why you had your falling out. He could have said, ‘Because he fucking kissed you and fingered you in our mom’s backyard.’”
Cam flinches slightly, but now that I’ve started, I’m not sure I can bite back the anger from bursting out.
“He could have told me. He had four years to tell me. You could have told me.”