Chapter 5
FIVE
“ANOTHER STRIKE!” she exclaimed, tossing her purse onto the floor just inside Cam’s door the next day. The room was empty. Damn. “Camden Collier! Cam! Where are you?”
Since the stairs down were right in front of her, she kicked off her shoes and ran down there first. And there he was, reflected in the gym mirror. Halfway down, she stopped to hang over the banister and waved her arm up and down until he noticed her and took the earbuds from his ears.
“How did the date go last night?” he asked, slowing the treadmill.
“It went horrible,” she said, plodding down the stairs. “Date after date. These guys and…” She huffed. “Zero sex.”
“Some guys can’t—”
“It’s not their fault,” she said, dropping to sit on the end of the weight bench. “It’s me.”
The gym was impressive. Fully equipped. Even had its own vast wet room. He still hadn’t showed her what was beyond the double doors at the back of the room, but she’d get there.
“It’s you?” he asked, snickering as he got off the treadmill. “Closed for business? Dried up? Lost that razzmatazz?”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “Like making fun of women, do you?”
“Not all women, just a niche group.” He pondered a moment. “A group of one.”
“Okay, well I’ll screw up your invoices this week and make sure all your clients get special discounts.”
When she got up, he caught her wrist before she could go anywhere. “You do that, Candy,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll grab a shower and take you out somewhere nice, okay?”
“Can we cook?” she asked. “I brought groceries this morning.”
He frowned. “That’s where the food came from? You were here this morning?”
“You’d be amazed by how often I’m in your house without you knowing it.”
“Yeah?”
“I could walk into your house any time,” she said. “I could unlock the front door, strip naked, and have an orgy in your living room. You wouldn’t notice…” She gestured at the back wall, “you’re always in your secret cave.”
“Bothers you, doesn’t it?” he asked, linking their fingers, walking backward, leading her toward the doors. “You want to know.”
Tossing her hair away, she acted like it was no big deal. “When you want to tell.”
“Just don’t move anything,” he said, pressing his thumb to the fingerprint lock.
His house was cutting edge. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to care about being up on the newest thing. That must’ve been some favor he did his friend.
He opened the doors and stepped back to allow her inside. The light was the first surprise. There were no windows on the walls, but… Her mouth fell open at the sight of the glazed ceiling, it was astounding.
She pointed up. “That’s the back yard.”
With his hands at his back, he answered with a brow raise and a nod.
It wasn’t the part they hung out in. The wicker fence clued her in.
It was the back section of the yard that others couldn’t access.
Except she noticed the spiral staircase in the corner.
If he wanted to go outside, he could do it from there.
The white carpet and clean woods were immaculate. Pictures on the walls were framed, or not. Renders. Hand drawn. Structures. Buildings. Homes.
“Oh my God,” she said, crossing the room to admire the central one between two drafting tables. “These are your houses. Your creations.”
When he didn’t respond, she turned to check he was still there.
“I’m an architect. It’s what I do.”
“Humility?” she asked, broadening her smile. “These are incredible.” Turning back to the picture, she admired the lines, the glass, the trees, the water, it was way more detailed than any render needed to be. “You drew this… by hand.”
“Noble does the ones we send out to clients.”
“These you do for fun.” His attention to detail was incredible. “You have a talent. An incredible talent.”
“It’s fun,” he said. “Not like I had much else to do these past couple of years.”
A reference to his celibacy? Funny.
He went to his computer in the far corner and bent over to click the mouse and press a few keys. Leaving him to his work, she looked the other way. There was a kitchen with a coffee machine and a fridge. A couple of doors next to it… curious.
“There’s a restroom and a closet.”
Spinning back, he was still bent over doing something on his computer. How had he known?
“I didn’t ask. You can keep your secret sex dungeon wherever you want.”
Laughing, he straightened up. “Is that what you thought was down here?”
“I knew what you did,” she said. “I’ve been the one dealing with construction companies all week.
You’re not just an architect. You’re a project manager too.
Each project is special to you. And you are one of the most coveted home designers on the planet because you are so anal about it…
Now I know why you’re celibate.” Opening her arms, she turned on the spot.
“Look how much you can achieve if you don’t have to worry about pleasing a woman. ”
“Can buy a lot when diamonds and pearls aren’t on the shopping list.”
“Who needs diamonds and pearls?” she asked. “Promise to build the house of her dreams and any woman would give up sex to marry you.”
“You think?”
“Sure!”
“Property holds its value and it’s a lot harder for burglars to steal. It’s not easy to get on that ladder, take that from someone who knows.”
His head tilted. “I’ve never seen your apartment.”
“And you never will,” she said. God, talk about nightmare scenario.
Did kindergarteners compare themselves to Van Gogh?
Another picture drew her closer. “My apartment is smaller than this one room… Mason used to say I’d double my square footage if I got rid of my shoes, but, yeah, that wasn’t happening. ”
“You heard from him today?”
“He texted me last night,” she said, crossing her legs to side-stride and admire the pictures along the wall. “Heard I was seeing Nathaniel.”
“Maybe that’s why you couldn’t follow through.”
“Maybe,” she said, leaning in. “Is that a cat?”
“Pets make a house a home.”
“Says the guy who doesn’t have one.”
“I have you now. You’ve been here almost two weeks and already doubled my grocery bill.”
“Not my fault wine is more expensive than beer.”
“Good wine. What did Mason want last night?”
“I don’t know,” she said and sighed. “I don’t think Mason knows what he wants half the time.”
“You were with him for a year, can’t be easy for him to see you moving on.”
That was offensive enough to tear her attention from the art.
“Are you kidding me?” What did she feel?
Anger or shock? “It must be difficult for him to see me moving on? He was screwing Terra for a month before I found out.” She raised a finger.
“And let me be clear, he was screwing her everywhere, including at work. Almost every one of my colleagues knew my boyfriend was screwing the hottest chick at Brooker before I even knew we had a problem.”
“You knew.”
“Yeah, okay,” she said, waving that away. “So I knew we weren’t exactly ecstatic, but wouldn’t it be polite to tell a woman you were through with her before moving onto the next one?”
“Think maybe the wife of your married guy felt the same way?” Oh. Bullseye. He didn’t mean to strike her deep. At least, she really didn’t think he did. But that one hurt. More than he could know. His expression morphed to a curious concern. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” she said, starting for the door.
“Elle. Elle! Babe!”
No. She couldn’t…
Running up the stairs, she steadied herself on the wall to slip on one shoe then the other.
“I thought we were going to cook,” he said, appearing by her.
“Another time,” she said. “Maybe.”
She snatched her purse from the floor, intending to go straight out the front door.
“Maybe?” Camden put himself between her and the exit.
“You don’t get out of this house on a maybe.
” Her focus remained straight ahead. “You never talk about him.” No, she didn’t, even though they’d spent hours talking this week.
Hours they should’ve spent working or she should’ve spent home.
“Elle…” His voice was soft, almost like the not there touch he used to toy with a curl that hung over her cheek. “I want to know…”
Him and the rest of the world.
Raising her chin, she met his eye. “Please move out of the way.”
“Only if I have your word you’ll come back.”
“Don’t ever ask me about him again.”
He considered her for the longest time, his probing eyes narrowing. “Okay.”
“Promise me, Cam.”
“I promise.”
“Then I’ll see you Monday.”
“I want to see you tomorrow.”
“It’s Sunday tomorrow. I don’t work Sunday.”
Bypassing the tendril, the back of his fingers floated down her cheek. “I want to see you tomorrow.”
“It’s supposed to be a maximum of six days in seven.”
“Are you here to work?” he asked, his fingers drifting lower. “Is that why you came here today?”
Why had she come? After her morning run, she’d stopped to get groceries for herself. Only she’d spent more time at Cam’s than at her own place recently. It just made sense to stock his cabinets fuller than her own… didn’t it?
Yes. It did.
Except… she couldn’t say it aloud. It sounded like an excuse in her head. Why would it sound like…?
Honesty slipped out. “I wanted to see you,” she murmured.
Until she told that truth aloud, she hadn’t admitted it to herself. Coming back, after her errands and chores, she wanted to talk to him, get his opinion. Just to… lay eyes on him. God, sometimes she thought she could stare into him all day.
“Call me when you get home,” he said. She managed a loose nod. “Video.”
Although she nodded again, a whisper of warning crept in. “Don’t play with fire.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
Thank God someone did. Cam was safe. He’d sworn off women while she was in a wild phase.
Supposed to be anyway. They lived on opposite poles.
The last thing she needed was to get herself caught up in a committed relationship.
Wasn’t that the root of her decision to give herself the freedom to do what felt good without regret?
To be young and stupid in a way she’d never been allowed to before?
After Spencer, she’d been so… lost. Completely lost. It took more than a year just to open the curtains and face the world.
Back then, every date she went on was a disaster, a familiar feeling, getting with Mason was sort of an accident.
He’d pursued her, stuck with her. Being with him was easier than trying to navigate the dating world.
She didn’t want to do that again, to fall into a relationship just because it was easier than the alternative.
“I’ll call when I get home.”
He just nodded and leaned in to kiss the top of her head. It was supposed to be meaningless. It should be. But it didn’t feel that way, especially when her hand met his torso and he lingered. All it would take… If she looked up… if he bowed just a little lower.
“Damnit,” she hissed at herself and pushed past him to leave.
The first client she’d got along with. The first one to give her the time of day, to accept who she was, to be real with her. Her mother was right, self-sabotage really was her specialty.