7. Demi
Iclimbed the stairs up to the apartment, my feet hurting with each step. My first night at The Bridger had been successful—and exhausting. The Pilates classes I had been taking hadn’t quite prepared me for being on my feet for so many hours.
I punched in the lock code and pushed open the door to my temporary apartment. As soon as I was through the door, I noticed Cannon sitting on the couch, headphones on as he played a video game.
I’d wondered after our conversation at the bar if he’d still be awake when I got home.
He turned to look at me, his gaze searing as his eyes traveled from my head to my toes and back again, spreading heat throughout my body. “You made it home in one piece.”
Oh. Is that what his stare had been about? Making sure I was safe? I tried to hide my disappointment and hoped he hadn’t noticed how his roaming eyes had made my breathing speed up.
“Yep.” I forced out a smile. “I’m going to go shower.”
He nodded and returned to his game.
I took a quick shower, washing off the smell of The Bridger from my skin and hair. I finished getting ready for bed, but as soon as I was about to brush my teeth, my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t eaten in hours. I was so excited to go to sleep, but my body needed food. I’d just eat a bowl of cereal and head to bed.
As I walked into the kitchen, I was surprised Cannon was still awake. It was past one in the morning.
I grabbed a bowl of cereal and brought it with me into the living room, sitting crossed legged on the other couch. “What game are you playing?”
He pushed off his headphones, exposing one of his ears so he could hear me. “Call of Duty.”
I chewed my bite of cereal, swallowing before I spoke. “I’ve never really seen the appeal of video games.”
He chanced a glance at me before looking back at the screen. “Have you ever played before?”
“Not really,” I hesitantly admitted.
He walked over to the TV stand, pulling out another controller and bringing it back with him to the couch.
“Come here.” He patted the cushion next to him.
I set down my half-eaten bowl of cereal on the end table and joined him on the other couch.
He handed me the controller. “You can’t make a fair judgment about video games until you give it a try.”
I looked up into his blue eyes and was surprised to see an openness there I hadn’t seen before. He was trying to hang out with me, be friends, maybe let me in just a little.
“Now, use this button,” he said, pointing to one of the buttons on the top, “to aim. And use the other one to shoot.”
He continued to point out what all the buttons were and what the swirly stick thing did. I tried to memorize each one—jump, crouch, move forward, move backward, look around, change your weapon—repeating them in my mind.
“It will take a few minutes to get used to,” he said. “But then you won’t even have to think about it. Your fingers will automatically know what to do.”
He joined a new game for us, explaining to me what to do, step by step. Our objective was to capture all the control points on the map. This game had three control points scattered around the area, with two teams working to dominate by changing the flags of the control points to their team color. Whoever had the flags their team color the longest during the timed session was the winner. Sounded simple enough.
Yeah, simple was not the right word for this game. Within the first ten minutes of playing, I’d died at least thirty times. I was pretty sure I was not our team MVP at the moment, but Cannon had muted the other players so we couldn’t hear what they were saying. Probably a good idea since I assumed they were cursing my name. I was definitely a weak link on the team, and by weak link I mean we were losing because of me.
During our second game, I went a little longer between dying and respawning, which shouldn’t have made me as happy as it did, but I was proud of myself for slowly getting better.
Sometime while we’d been playing, we’d slid closer together, our shoulders pressed together as we leaned back into the couch. The heat radiating off him and the smell of his cologne were enough to make me want to curl up in his lap. I refrained, though, since that would have been extremely awkward and inappropriate. Instead, I forced myself to keep my attention on the game and not on the sexy guy I wished I was cuddling with.
I aimed my gun at a guy on the other team and shot.
“I got him!” I yelled. “Did you see that? I totally killed that guy on my first shot.”
“I did see it. Nice job.”
I’d learned that I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen for a second, otherwise I was dead, but I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I might have to take back what I said,” I admitted. “I’m surprised to say it, but I’m actually having fun.”
He nudged my arm. “See? Video games are more appealing than you thought.”
That, or the man I was playing video games with was extremely appealing.
“So if I wanted to play again, you’d let me?” I asked hesitantly.
“Anytime.” The low, smooth tone of his voice washed over my skin.
“Even though I’m awful and am more of a hindrance to the team than a capable, helpful teammate?” I chuckled.
“Yes,” he chuckled too, before adding quietly, “It’s nice having someone to play with.”
His voice was so low, I worried I’d misheard him. I looked over at him, surprised he’d said something so unlike him, so vulnerable. Cannon never acted like he needed anyone or cared that he was alone. But maybe there was some small part of him that longed for connection, for someone other than West to be in his life.
And then I died again.
“Dang it,” I exclaimed.
Cannon laughed. “Can’t be staring at me, or you’re a sitting duck.”
“I wasn’t staring at you,” I argued.
“You totally were.”
I totally had been.
“Was not.”
“Really? Then what were you looking at?” he challenged.
“I was looking past you, because…” I looked past his face to something I could lie about, but there was nothing. “Because I thought I saw something on the wall. Spiders freak me out.”
And yep, looking for a made-up reason to explain why I had been staring at him caused my character’s death yet again. Ugh.
“Uh-huh, sure.” By his grin, he knew I was full of crap.
I hated how he always came out on top in conversations like these. That he was always the calm one while I was a rattled mess. And though I couldn’t expect him to react to me the same way I did to him—thanks to my dumb crush—that didn’t mean I couldn’t try to put a wrench in his cool and collected demeanor.
In a spur-of-the-moment decision, I grabbed his controller from his hands.
The look of shock on his face was exactly what I had been going for. I gave him a wicked grin, feeling like I had somehow won. What I won, I didn’t know, but it felt good to know I’d caught him off guard.
He responded with a mischievous grin of his own. “Oh, is that how we are going to play?” He reached for the controller, but I was faster, lifting it high above my head, his hand grasping air.
His eyes turned predatory, and heck if it didn’t make me excited about what his next move was going to be.
He reached for it again, but I pushed up off the couch, moving my body higher. He moved with me, not giving me a chance to counteract his next move. With my arm up straight above me, he moved in for the kill—tickling me.
My arm instantly came down, but it was too late. He had full access to my underarms and sides, and he was taking full advantage.
“Oh, my gosh, Cannon, no,” I giggled in between gasps of air.
“Give me back my controller, and this can all end,” he taunted, his hands tickling me relentlessly, the game completely forgotten.
I didn’t want to give up so easily and worked to get away, but I was too ticklish and was no match for Cannon’s strength.
Falling back on the couch, he came with me, his body hovering over mine, and it was both the best and worst situation to find myself in. Having Cannon’s strong body above mine was like a fantasy come true, but being tickled was torturous.
“Okay, okay,” I wheezed out, shoving the controller into his chest. “You win.”
His fingers stopped moving along my sides and I finally took in a full breath, tears leaking out of the sides of my eyes from laughing so hard.
Now that I could focus on something other than the need to stop being tickled, I could feel the weight of Cannon’s body on me, our legs tangled, our breathing heavy as we stared at each other, the silly moment gone.
As cheesy as it sounded, I could get lost in his eyes, the crystal-clear blue mesmerizing. A piece of his hair fell forward, and I wished I could reach up and push it back, feeling the silky strands against my fingers. Instead, I laid there, not wanting to move, wishing we could stay in this moment forever.
His eyes seemed to be drinking me in, like maybe he was enjoying this moment as much as I was.
“I have a hard time not staring at you too,” he said, barely above a whisper.
Wait. Did he just say what I think he said? Was I dreaming? Was I in some alternate universe? Did Cannon James just admit he struggles to keep his eyes off of me?
Before I could say anything, he was gone, and I instantly missed the feel of him on me.
He stood several feet away, running his hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or himself. He looked down at the ground, his face devoid of emotion. He was clearly regretting what he’d said, and I didn’t want this to become some awkward thing between us. I could blow it off as a random incident between two people having fun and getting carried away. No need for him to freak out.
I sat up slowly, adjusting my sweatshirt. “It’s okay—”
“No, it’s not.” He cut me off. “I don’t want to make things confusing between us. Just because we find each other attractive doesn’t change anything.”
I gave him a blank look. “What things?”
“You know,” he said, gesturing between us. “You’re my best friend”s little sister, and I’m not the type of guy you should be interested in. We’re just friends. Have barely started to become friends.”
I bit my lip in an attempt not to smile. He was usually so confident, and seeing him all flustered was an enjoyable sight.
“First of all,” I said. “Just because you find me attractive doesn’t mean I’m going to throw myself at you. And second of all,” I gave him a cheeky grin, “who said I found you attractive?”
That had him chuckling, his shoulders relaxing. “You’re right. How presumptuous of me.”
“Look,” I said, turning serious. “Just because we mutually admire each other’s looks doesn’t mean that anything has to change between us. I’m not looking for anything with you beyond friendship.”
Lies. Well, half lies. Did I wish he would come back over here so we could make out until the sun came up? Heck, yes. But did I know anything other than friendship between us would end up disastrous and with me nursing a broken heart? Also, yes. Hopefully my face was on the same page as my words.
He had been right when he’d said he wasn’t the type of guy I should be interested in, the type that couldn’t give me a relationship. As for being his best friend’s sister? That was a lame excuse. Sure, West was the classic overprotective brother, but he loved Cannon. And if he knew Cannon could make me happy and be in a real relationship with me, I really thought he would be fine with it. Possibly even elated. But Cannon’s track record wasn’t great, and that would be West’s only hesitation.
But all that didn’t matter because Cannon wasn’t a relationship kind of guy.
Plus, I didn’t need to be thinking about my love life at the moment. I wanted to focus on myself and school, going out on my own and achieving my dream. I didn’t have time for guys.
You would make time for Cannon.
Oh, shut up, annoying internal voice. Cannon’s not an option.
“Good. I’m not looking for anything either,” he said, eventually coming to sit back down on the couch.
“What?” I pretended to act shocked. “Mr. Anti-Commitment isn’t looking for a relationship?”
“Ha, ha, very funny,” he deadpanned, picking up his controller.
I smiled because I did think I was funny.
And just like that, we were back to normal, our flirty tickling session firmly behind us.
I crossed my legs underneath me. “Do you happen to have Mario Kart? Something I can beat you at?”
“Mario Kart?” His brows shot up like I couldn’t be serious.
“Yeah, what’s wrong with Mario Kart?” It was pretty much my only experience with video games.
“I haven’t played that since I was a kid.”
“Me neither, but I was pretty good at it back in the day,” I said, lifting my chin.
He gave me an amused look. “If you being pretty good at it means you could beat West, I’m sorry, but that’s not very impressive.”
I smacked his arm but laughed. It was true, West wasn’t very good when it came to video games, so beating him probably wasn’t as impressive as I’d thought.
“Whatever,” I smiled. “Let’s play one more game, and then I’m heading to bed.”
Cannon joined a new game, and surprisingly enough, I hadn’t gotten any better than when we played fifteen minutes ago. I didn’t care because I liked spending time with Cannon regardless of how many times I died in the game.
My body went through the motions of filling glasses with beer and wiping down the counters, but my mind was fixated on Cannon, who was at the end of the bar with a pretty blonde. I kept reprimanding myself for continuing to glance their way, but no matter how much I got mad at myself, I couldn’t keep my eyes from being pulled toward them.
I watched as she placed her hand on his arm, her red nails shiny under the pendant light that hung directly above them like a beacon in the dim bar. Her hand slid up his well-defined arm, up to his shoulder before she leaned in to whisper something in his ear. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, but it didn’t look like he was hating having her all up in his space. As she pulled away, she let her hand drag down his chest, a half-smile appearing on his handsome face.
My teeth clenched as I watched them, jealousy swirling irrationally through my veins. I had to fight against the need to go down there and pretend to see if they wanted another drink just so I could break up whatever moment they were having. Their drinks were both still half-full, so I would only look like an idiot if I checked on them. It wasn’t their fault I was jealous, wishing my hand was the one trailing along his finely sculpted body.
His hands hadn’t made their way to the blonde, at least from what I’d seen. And embarrassingly enough, I’d hardly taken my eyes off them. I could still remember the feel of his hands on me last night as he’d tickled me, the large pads of his fingers pushing into my sides, barely skimming the bare skin where my sweatshirt had raised. It had been torturously amazing.
“Excuse me, miss?” a voice broke through my misplaced thoughts.
“Oh, sorry, yes.” I blinked at the woman in front of me, remembering I was at work and had a job to do. “What can I get you?”
I began working on her drink, grateful for the distraction. This job would be miserable if I couldn’t get a hold of my emotions when it came to Cannon. Especially since it looked like he intended to be here every night I worked. Thankfully, he hadn’t intervened with any more of my flirty male customers. Although I didn’t know if I was happy or annoyed about that, which was just as frustrating as having to watch him flirt with women.
When it came to Cannon James, my mind and feelings were a mess.