CHAPTER 3 #3
He shook his head slowly, as if unsure, but took a step back. And, with no hesitation whatsoever, he then immediately began to undress. I lingered there for a few seconds before realizing with a flash of guilt that I was staring like a creep. With a strangled choking sound, I hurriedly departed.
With the door safely shut behind me, I heaved a long sigh when my cock began stiffening, my pants growing uncomfortably tight. I glared at my crotch.
“Down boy,” I hissed in a whisper. “We need to get him to like us first.”
I focused very hard to ignore the mid-day boner in my pants as I began a load of Cam’s laundry.
After I made the spare bed in his room, I returned to mine and pulled out my notebook.
I bounced as I plopped onto the edge of the mattress and rubbed my fingers lovingly along the book's smooth cover and worn edges.
It was just a plain spiralbound black notebook, but it was one of my cherished possessions.
The rest were safely hidden away in a discrete, undisclosed location.
Flipping open to the first page, my eyes landed on what I had written there myself more than a year ago: “Vic’s guide to landing the perfect man.
” The following pages were filled with my plan to create a boyfriend and my nearly two years' worth of research and spell work that followed.
I flipped to the next tabbed page and skimmed over the lengthy ingredient list, satisfied that every item was checked off.
On the last page was a list of numbered bullet points beside a distractingly large stain that I knew belonged to the poor ice cream I had assaulted the night I thought up this brilliant scheme.
Step one: acquire said man.
Step two: go on top five most perfect dates with him.
Step three: bag that boy.
Beneath that was a sub list of date ideas I had brainstormed one lonely night whilst half a container deep into a gallon of Monster Cookies and Cream ice cream. The ink was also slightly smudged from the evening spent crying and watching romance movies like the masochist that I was.
I’d made this journal shortly after the whole messy breakup with Ron. Well, more like my up and disappearing act. I could only hope that bastard had long forgotten about me. Everything that led to this journal was the catalyst to my brilliant idea. It had all led me to him, to Cam.
I smiled to myself as I checked off the first step in my long list complete with a little doodled heart next to it and decided amongst the date ideas I had listed.
I chose some of the more generic ones seeing as I didn’t know much about Cam or what he liked to do for fun.
I didn’t know anything about him besides what Alice told me was in his records.
I shut the notebook with excessive force as determination burned in my chest. I would get to know him, and he would get to know me in turn.
I knew I could be a difficult pill to swallow, but I was planning to pull all the stops to win Cam over.
He was going to fall for me. I would make sure of it. I would woo him. Charm his socks off. Then his pants.
I had done dating in every order imaginable.
I had committed to the first few dates before putting out.
I’d had sloppy sex in bar restroom stalls when I hadn’t even known the guys’ names.
I’d even had one-night stands where the chemistry – both physically and emotionally – were shit, so I bailed before the dingy motel bed even grew cold.
I had also been fucked and dumped and ghosted so many times that I lost count.
So, this time around I would give myself no chance to muck it up.
I kept dinner simple but something I knew I could make well. I reached for the Red Hot by muscle memory but hesitated. Did Cam like spicy foods? With this thought in mind, I set the jar down, put the lid on the pot filled with chili, and strode for the bathroom.
I could hear that the shower was off when I stopped just outside the door.
Not wanting to come across like some hovering weirdo in case he came out, I knocked.
When there was no response, worry instantly gnawed at my gut.
Was he alright? Had he fallen and hit his head?
I audibly gasped, horror stricken; what if he’d actually exploded this time?
I knocked again, this time far more frantic and perhaps a little unhinged.
“Cam, are you okay in there?” I called through the door.
Seconds passed as I practically waited with my ear pressed to the door. Then, a sudden thump broke the heavy silence making me jump out of my skin.
Manners aside, I flung the door open, but my thundering heart wasn’t at all prepared for the sight that presented itself to me. My mouth fell open, eyes bugging out of my head as my gaze landed squarely on two full, perky, bare ass cheeks.
Now, I had obviously seen Cam naked. But it was different now that he was alive and standing before me all tall and tattooed with his toned muscular body still glistening and damp from the shower.
The loud noise must have been him slamming his hands into the wall on either side of the mirror above the sink.
He was currently leaning over it as he stared hard at his reflection.
“Cam, are you okay?” I asked, tone urgent and tight with concern.
I tried and failed to steady my pounding heart. It was seriously so loud I just knew he would be able to hear it. Maybe something was wrong with me. I was still staring, so I politely averted my eyes. No way would I pop another boner while he was clearly distressed about something.
His hazy eyes stared at his reflection a moment longer before they landed on me through the mirror.
“What is this?” he asked me.
I wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about, so I strode over to settle next to him. His gaze tracked me the entire short distance until I was at his side.
“What’s what?”
He lifted his hand and tapped at the Y-shaped incision taking up his wide chest, cutting through several tattoos.
It still had those thick but neat stitches holding it together.
Almost all of his previous injuries looked mostly healed, but it seemed this was taking a bit longer to recover.
After he got dressed, I would sit him down and cast a few healing spells over him.
I knew the skin would begin to naturally heal itself after a while, just like it would for his limbs, but I would still give it a few days before removing the stitches. Just in case.
“It’s from your autopsy,” I told him simply.
He seemed to know what that meant and hummed in understanding.
There was no point in beating around the bush. He knew he had died and been brought back to life. He was honestly handling it really well, all things considered. But I wondered if the reality of what had happened to him would eventually hit him. I wondered how he would take it.
That time didn’t seem to be now as he turned from the mirror to face me, holding out his left arm.
“And this?” he asked, calm and curious.
“I attached it for you.” Then I gestured to the bottom half of his right leg below the knee. “That too. Don’t worry, their previous owner didn't need them anymore. How do they feel? They don’t cause you any discomfort, do they?”
The magic I had used while sewing the new appendages to him should have allowed the attachment to be practically seamless once they healed fully, just like any wound. But I didn’t know if it was normal for any pain to be expected throughout the process.
“Sorry the stitching isn’t exactly pretty,” I apologized, becoming slightly embarrassed. “I’m not really great at sewing but if you don’t like it, I can always call Alice and-”
A gentle finger pressed against my lips, successfully shutting me up from my nervous ramblings. My pulse skittered, cheeks flaming as I slowly lifted my eyes and met Cam’s. He didn’t remove his finger as he said in a low, rumbly voice,
“I love them. Thank you.”
Well shit, maybe I was going to be the one getting my socks charmed off.
I hadn’t realized how close Cam had gotten and quickly remembered that he was very entirely naked. I stepped back, putting some healthy distance between us.
I would not jump his bones. I would not fuck this up. It hadn’t even been a full day yet! Keep it in your pants, Vic!
Clearing my throat, I said, “Um, yeah. Sure, of course.” Then maybe a touch too aggressively, I grabbed the pink towel from the rack and practically shoved it in his hands.