Trust in Me

“Been there, done that.” The moment those words left her mouth, she clamped her lips closed.

A look of horror crossed her face, and everything—oh God—everything about her started to make sense. “What?” I whispered, and she started to walk away. I caught her by the shoulders. “Oh, hell no. What did you just say?”

“I don’t know what I said. Okay? I’m drunk, Cam. Duh. Who the fuck knows what’s coming out of my mouth? I don’t. I really don’t know what I’m even doing out here.”

“Shit. Avery . . .” My fingers tightened around her shoulders. “What are you not telling me? What haven’t you told me?”

“Nothing! I swear. I promise you. I’m just ru

“I’m not staring at you like that, sweetheart.” I searched her face for the truth, for the severity of what happened to her, but the only thing I saw in her expression was fear and desperation. She didn’t want me to pry any further, and I got that. Of all people, I understood the need to keep some things a secret, but I would find out eventually.

Her eyes welled up, and I thought she mouthed the word please. There was a lot of shit between us. Things that we needed to clear up, but all of that needed to wait.

I hauled her against me, wrapping my arms around her tightly. She stiffened for a second and then placed her hands on my sides as she pressed her face against my chest. The feel of her went straight through me.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

In that moment, whatever happened between us after I had seen her scar didn’t matter. I buried my hand in her hair, pressing her closer. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” I held onto her, lifting her up in the air and then back down, thrilled to be just holding her again. I cupped her cheeks, laughing at the feel of her. “You feel like a little ice cube.”

“I feel hot.” Our gazes met and she smiled. “Your eyes are really beautiful, you know that?”

“I think that’s the shots of tequila talking. Come on, let’s get you inside before you freeze.”

Reaching down, I threaded my fingers through hers. The last thing I wanted was for her to fall and break her neck. Once inside her warm apartment, her fingers spasmed around mine.

“You’re missing the fight,” she said.

“So I am.” I led her around the couch and tugged her down. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” She ran her hands over her thighs. “Your friends are probably wondering where you are.”

I leaned back, getting comfortable. “I don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope.”

A brief smile crossed her lips as she sat forward and then glanced back at me. I wasn’t pla

“Maybe you should sit down, Avery.”

“I’m okay.” She stumbled around the coffee table. “So . . . what did you want to do? I can, um, turn on the TV or put a movie in, but I don’t have any movies. I guess I can order one from—”

“Avery, just sit down for a little while.”

She picked up a pillow and placed it on the couch. I guess she was going to start cleaning the house? But then she went to the moon chair. “You don’t think it’s hot in here?”

“How much did you drink?”

“Um . . .” Her face screwed up. “Not much—maybe like two or three shots of tequila and two beers? I think.”

“Oh wow.” I gri

“Halloween night.”

I cocked my head to the side. “I didn’t see you drink Halloween night.”

“Not this past Halloween night.” Back on her feet, she started tugging on the sleeves of her sweater. “It was . . . five years ago.”

“Whoa. That’s a long time.” Oh, this wasn’t going to end well. I stood. “You got water in here? Bottled?”

“In the kitchen.”

I headed to the fridge, grabbed a bottle and then returned. “You should drink this.” When she took the bottle, I sat on the edge of the couch. “So that made you, what? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

“Fourteen,” she whispered, ducking her chin.

“That’s really young to be drinking.”

Sitting the bottle down, she fixed her ponytail. “Yeah, you didn’t drink when you were fourteen?”

“I snuck a beer or two at fourteen, but I thought your parents were strict?”

She snickered as she dropped into the moon chair. “I don’t want to talk about them or drinking or Halloween.”

Didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out those three things were co

Shortcake watched me a second and then went about trying to take her sweater off. A laugh built up in my throat, but got stuck when she dropped her sweater. She wore a tank top underneath, but the material was thin and exposed a lot of flushed skin. Her nervousness seemed to run deeper than a beer buzz or even because I was here after all the crap between us.

She stood again and started pacing. When she stopped, in between the kitchen and the hall, she curled her fingers under the hem of her tank top.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She didn’t respond as her slightly unfocused gaze met mine. I had no idea what she was thinking. I never really did, but she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Wariness settled in my bones. She was definitely up to—

Avery pulled her tank top off.

Holy. Shit.

I inhaled sharply. “Avery.”

Holy. Shit. Shit. Shit. That’s about all I could think as I stared at her in her black bra. I’d seen her when she was sick, but I had not seriously really seen her. Not like now. Her breasts were full, straining against the lacy cups as she dragged in one deep breath after another.

When she leaned against the wall and let her arms fall to her sides, I clamped my jaws together as I breathed deeply. My gaze dipped from her face again, to her breasts and then down the smooth line of her stomach. Her jeans hung low and her belly concaved around her navel. The sweet curve of her waist begged to be touched.

She was obviously drunk and if I was a good guy I wouldn’t be staring at her like I wanted to eat her up, but I couldn’t look away. I didn’t remember standing, but I was and somehow I had moved around the couch. Heat built between my legs, thickening and potent.

“Cam?” she said breathlessly.

My body demanded that I go to her and I almost did, but I stopped, clenching my hands. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

I closed my eyes, but the sight of her was branded into my mind. “This—don’t do this, sweetheart.”

“Isn’t this what you want?” she asked, voice ringing with uncertainty.

My eyes flew open. What? “I don’t expect that, Avery.”

She sucked in a breath. “You don’t want me.”

Don’t want her? I could barely remember a time when I hadn’t wanted her, for fuck’s sake. My cock was pushing against the zipper of my jeans, swelling to the point of almost bursting. That’s how badly I wanted her.

But the look of self-deprecation had crept onto her pretty face.

I shot forward, slamming my hands onto the wall on either side of her head. I bent down so that we were eye level. “Fuck, Avery. You think I don’t want you? There’s not a single part of you that I don’t want, you understand? I want to be on you and inside of you. I want you against the wall, on the couch, in your bed, in my bed, and every fucking place I can possibly think of, and trust me, I have a vast imagination when it comes to these kinds of things. Don’t ever doubt that I want you. That is not what this is about.”