Chapter 9
Camila
Imarch out of the club through the dimly lit crimson corridors, ignoring everyone I pass on the way.
I couldn’t concentrate on the remainder of my shift. My mind kept replaying Xander. The corded muscles of his forearms, the way his shirt hugged him.
The table I was serving left shortly after Xander’s performance, leaving a very generous tip.
I swing the strap of my duffel bag full of cash across my chest and hang my gym bag over my shoulder. There’s nothing valuable in my bag compared to the duffel bag, so if anyone was to try their luck stealing from me over the short walk across the road, I’d rather it be the latter.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jayden,” I say as I brush past him, currently trying to stop a drunk from entering through the back door. Sadly, he’s the one person that’s harder to avoid out here. He would just chase after me.
“Cam, wait,” he calls as he pushes the man away from him.
The rough-looking man comes charging at him again and almost lands a punch to Jayden’s stomach, but he misses by an inch.
Jayden kicks him in the back of the knee, and the man falls to the ground, slurring something about how painful that was.
“I don’t wanna see you back here again. Go, or I’ll call the police,” he spits at him.
“I know what happens in there. I don’t think you would, little guy,” the man babbles.
My brows knit in confusion. I know that the Warrens dabble in illegal things, but to run it from this club?
This is precisely why I should avoid Xander. All that sort of lifestyle brought me was torment.
Jayden raises his fist. The man flinches away and finally starts retreating. Jayden strolls towards me, glaring daggers at the man.
“Nice work, Mr Bouncer,” I smile.
He towers over me, getting a little closer than I would like, so I back away a step.
He flexes his muscled arm and smiles broadly. I chuckle awkwardly at him as he attempts another step forward. “I know you’re off for the night, but there’s something that I’ve been wanting to ask you.” He runs his hand along his slicked-back hair.
I fold my arms over my chest, knowing exactly what’s coming. It was just a matter of time.
“Are you free at some point this week?”
I sigh. “Jay, we spoke about this…”
“I know, I know. But if there’s any chance…” He shakes his head and takes another step forward. My arms automatically come away from my chest, trying to subtly put some distance between us.
“Jayden, it was one night,” I try to placate, gripping onto the strap across my chest as I draw back from him.
His eyes dip to my mouth as his head slowly inches forward.
I shoot my clammy hand out, putting it on his shoulder, pushing him away. “Woah, Jay. I’m sorry.” My voice trembles as I side-step around him, needing to put as much space between me and him as possible.
His face flashes with anger.
We both agreed it was a one-time thing. We were drunk and lonely and needed an outlet.
It was nothing more than that. At least, not for me.
I had no idea that Jayden would feel the way that he does about me.
I see the way he looks at me before and after work, how he always wants to say something but closes his mouth before it comes out.
This was a long time coming, but I don’t feel that way about him. He’s just a close friend to me.
He hesitates but narrows his eyes and starts backing away towards the door again. My stomach turns. I’ve seen that look before. The look that made me cower away every time.
“No hard feelings?” he asks, and his face softens.
I shake my head and smile awkwardly, breath trembling. “See you tomorrow, Jay.”
The lights in the car park turn on one by one as I speed-walk towards my car, hood over my head and face cast down.
Get me the fuck home.
As I approach my car, the smell of sulphur tickles my nose.
I go to fish my car key from my gym bag.
Only… there is no key.
Panic settles deep in my stomach as I frantically search for it.
“No, no, no, no,” I mutter.
Where the fuck is it?
I spot a large, black stain underneath my car, leading to the bonnet.
“No, no, no, no,” I cry, raising my voice, as my head spins with panic.
I knew my car was dying, but now? Really?
“Lost something?” a familiar deep voice asks from behind me.
I straighten, folding my arms over my chest, gathering all the leftover confidence I can find from tonight, and turn to face him. “You again. I thought you left.”
Xander observes me. Like a shark sizing up its prey.
It was different inside the club. There was security and bouncers to interfere. Here… we’re all alone. And the way he’s looking at me now sends shivers down my spine.
But it’s not entirely from fear.
He nods towards the stain on the ground. “Need help?”
I tilt my head to the side. “No, thanks. How do I know you didn’t do this?”
His mouth briefly sets in a thin line before a sly smirk appears on his face.
Why do I get the feeling that I’m right?
“Are you stalking me?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. I prefer the term pursuing. Sounds less menacing.”
“Can you go and pursue someone else?”
His annoyingly handsome face lights up with amusement. “Seems like you’re in a bit of a predicament here, Angel.”
“Don’t call me Angel.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t know me.”
His eyes take on a darker shade. “No, but I will.”
I lean forward and narrow my eyes, doing my best to look intimidating. “I don’t do well with threats.”
“It’s not a threat, Angel. It’s a promise.”
I recoil at his statement.
“Let me drive you home,” he offers casually.
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “No way.”
“I don’t bite.” He looks me up and down. “Unless you want me to.”
“No, thanks. I’d rather walk.”
“It’s the middle of the night, and your car is”—he looks pointedly towards it—“broken. I’d rather know you’re safe.”
I eye him suspiciously, and he puts both his tattooed hands up.
The truth is, he’s right. I hate walking on my own in the dark.
And I hate getting the tube. And apart from watching me, this is the second time we’re interacting.
No matter the effect he has on me. He’s my boss; there’s no consequences for him.
He could drive me out to the woods and kill me, and no one would be none the wiser.
“I don’t know you.”
All of a sudden, I find myself pressed up against the side of my car, with Xander’s hard body against me, arms caging me in on either side. My pulse jumps at the closeness, and my knees buckle. His musk scent hovers deliciously in my nose.
One of his hands reaches up to my face, and he runs his soft thumb across my bottom lip.
I let out a shaky breath, dragging my eyes to his.
He traces it down the centre of my chin, to the bottom of my neck, and wraps his large hand around it.
The size of his hand easily covers the entire length of my neck, and he squeezes. Not hard, not threatening.
Gentle.
Almost caressing.
His head dips to my ear, hot breath fanning my skin.
“Don’t act like your little performance tonight wasn’t for me.
I could feel it. The way your skin heated when I was watching you.
How your eyes never left mine,” he growls in a whisper, his body slightly shaking.
“You may not know me, but your body does.”
I let out a shaky breath as he pushes himself away. Hands shove into his pockets, and he leans against the car next to mine.
“I’ll follow you if you don’t get in my car.”
It takes me a few seconds to regain my senses after getting lost in his allure for the third time tonight.
My brows snap together. “You won’t be following me anywhere.”
He shrugs, eyes dancing with promise. “You don’t trust me yet, but you will, Camila.”
My annoyance heightens as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. Not just at his obnoxiously attractive arrogance, but because I find myself enjoying it. And I know I shouldn’t be.
“What the fuck do you want?” I burst out.
Slowly, like he has all the time in the world, he crowds me again, stretching out his arm and lowering my hood.
His fingers brush over my cheek as he smooths a lock of stray hair behind my ear, making my skin break out in goosebumps.
He lowers his head, lips hovering inches from mine, and I find myself pulling closer until I can feel his minty-whisky breath.
“Everything. I want everything,” he whispers and pulls away, turning to leave.
And that sounds like a vow.
I watch his large back retreat towards a matte grey McLaren. The indicator lights flash twice before he opens the door upwards, turns, and expectantly waits, those eyes framed by dark lashes glued to my face.
My phone buzzes in my shorts pocket again.
UNKNOWN: Answer my fucking calls
Luke.
He is the sole fucking reason why I can’t be normal.
Why I can’t just settle down in Soho and live a normal life and open my own studio.
Why I can’t openly let myself lean in to whatever might be lurking under the surface of this ice lake between me and the man currently holding open his passenger door.
Fuck him.
“You piece of shit,” I growl under my breath through clenched teeth, blocking his number.
Realistically, this doesn’t solve anything. He’ll still be hovering over my head like a dark cloud waiting to burst.
When I look back up at Xander, his eyes are watching my phone, and beneath the nonchalant expression on his face, there’s an undertone of question.
I tug at my bottom lip. Surely nothing can be worse than Luke chasing after me.
“If you don’t get in, I’ll drag you in myself.”
I huff out a laugh. “I’d love to see you try.”
He strides towards me, and my body stiffens.
His muscled shoulder connects with my stomach as he lifts me over it, his arm wrapping over the back of my thighs.
I squeal at the sudden movement. My stomach turns as he carries me to his car, my mind flashing back to the day Luke carried me the same way.
I didn’t know back then that that was going to be the last time I was truly free.
My breathing picks up as he places me in his car, the leather seat already sticking to my hot skin. The space smells like him.
“Are you okay?” Xander asks, and I whip my head towards him, momentarily forgetting that Luke isn’t here. That I’m not eighteen anymore.
He studies me, a hint of panic brushing over his face.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Really.”
I grab the seatbelt and click it into the buckle, giving him a reassuring smile. He nods, coming to sit in the front seat.
My body feels paralysed. I can’t do anything but stare forward as he drives.
“Camila?” he asks, voice laced with concern. Somehow, the gentleness of his voice pulls me back to reality.
Realising we’re almost at my flat, I exhale, my head dropping against the headrest.
I clear my throat. “Thank you for driving me.”
He pulls into the gates and drives me all the way up to the entrance. I stare at the handle as the car rolls to a stop.
It’s not going to open.
Trembling, I grip it and squeeze my eyes hard as I pull.
It opens.
Without another word, I climb out of the car.
It’s not until I’m inside my flat that I hear the roar of his car fading out.