BLACK CRIMSON (Fairy Tale Quartet #4)

13. Camille

13

Camille

I felt weighted down as I returned home from Gran’s place.

After Brick had lit out of there, Gran talked me into staying for supper, where I’d finished the rest of the cookies he hadn’t eaten, plus gorged myself on a heaping plate of homemade spaghetti and meatballs.

She never would tell me what he’d told her—if we were friends, lovers, or enemies—and that drove me crazy. But I guess it didn’t really matter anymore. He wasn’t going to change his stance about the interview, which left me with two options.

Drop the subject completely or continue without his involvement and write an article that incriminated him to the point that he’d be exposed whether he liked it or not. I knew I could do it. I could take my story to Carmen, and she’d get me into the editing department within the hour.

But did I want to do that to Brick? Expose him against his wishes? Possibly get him into trouble with the law? And in effect hurt his sisters, who had become two of my very close best friends.

No. I didn’t want to do that. Yet I couldn’t just give up, either. People who gave up were the people who went nowhere. And I didn’t want to go nowhere. I’d been nowhere already, taken the ride, gotten the T-shirt. Now, I was ready for something.

Feeling a little lost about which direction to go, then, since I couldn’t hurt anyone and I couldn’t just give up, I was distracted about thinking up some way to change Brick’s mind as I trudged up the stairs to my apartment.

On my floor, I paused in front of my door and started to dig around in my purse, searching for my keys. That was one problem with having such a big handbag with no inside pockets. It was never easy to find my keys buried in there.

Finding them, I triumphantly dragged them up just as a voice spoke from behind me.

“So I finally got permission to f**k you.”

Screaming, I whirled around and scrambled to get a hold of the tiny can of Mace on my keyring, only to end up dropping the entire set of keys on the ground in front of me in my fumbling haste.

The man leaning against the wall behind him, almost in the shadows where I hadn’t noticed him when I’d come up the stairs, dryly glanced down at the Mace.

“Well, that was effective.”

“Shut up,” I muttered and bent down to pick them up. “What’re you doing here?”

I couldn’t see him right now; I hadn’t devised my brilliant plan to win him over to my side of interviewing things yet. This was all wrong.

He had one knee bent so he could prop it against the wall, but he dropped it so he could push away from the cement blocks and step toward me. “Like I just said, I finally got permission from both Gabby and Kait to have s*x with you.”

“You got permission?” I repeated incredulously, not believing a word he said because neither Gabby nor Kaitlynn would ever make those kinds of decisions for me.

“Yep,” he insisted, grinning engagingly as he lifted both thumbs. “Green light, baby. It’s mattress time. Or against a wall. Hell, I’ll happily bend you over the kitchen table if that’s your pleasure.”

I snorted and turned away, dismissing him so I could finish unlocking my door. “Don’t you think you need my permission for something like that?”

“Oh, I’ll have your permission,” he assured me, sounding pretty confident with himself. “That was the entire premise of the deal. My two sisters have finally promised not to castrate me for sleeping with you if you instigate the entire seduction, so…”

Ah, so that was the true situation here. My girls knew I’d never seduce him, so they also knew they had nothing to worry about.

Go ladies, I decided. Very clever thinking.

After unlocking the door to my apartment and pushing it open, I turned around to find him opening his arms wide in invitation. “Anytime you’re ready to start coming on to me, I’m right here,” he assured. “Put me in the game, coach. I’m all suited up and ready to play.”

I blinked dryly. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

“Yeah.” He pointed at me with finger guns and winked. “Ridiculously ready to s*x you up.”

With a sigh, I turned away and entered my apartment, leaving him out in the hall. But as I swung the door shut behind me, a hand caught it, keeping it from closing.

And Brick sauntered inside after me, whistling cheerfully. “And you’re going to be the one to set the wheels into motion, Mayhem,” he promised, strolling through my kitchen as if he owned it, only to pause at a picture on the countertop of me and Gran together. He picked it up, studied it a moment and set it back down again, refocusing his attention on me. “Hell, I bet you come on to me so hard I’m not even going to know what hit me.”

I cringed. “Please tell me you take medicine to deal with all those delusional tendencies, and you just need to pick up your refill.”

Chuckling, he hopped onto the cabinets next to the picture and sat there, letting his legs dangle over the side, swinging merrily as he grinned. “So where do you think you’ll take me first?” Patting the countertop space on either side of him, he announced, “These things seem pretty sturdy. I think we could be as rowdy as you like and still not break them.”

Damn, he was adorable. Maybe I should just agree to some fun and sexy times with him after all. I had a feeling he’d be good for it.

I let myself imagine it. One night of bliss.

God, it did sound alluring.

But when I looked at him, this craving to just go to him and sink my fingers into his hair before kissing him and never letting go again filled me with such an intense impact that I held myself back.

I knew me. And I’d take it hard when he left.

Abandonment broke me just a little more each time it happened.

You’d think I’d have thicker skin by now because of how many times I’d dealt with it. But nope. I just kept handling it worse and worse.

Which had taught me one thing; don’t go willingly into that good night to get your heart broken.

And so the man sitting on my counter was a definite no-go zone.

With a sad sigh, I turned away and opened the refrigerator, determined to ignore him. “So what’re you doing here, anyway?” I asked casually. “Change your mind about that interview?”

When he didn’t answer, I shut the door and glanced back. “Did you change your mind?”

He lifted his gaze from what I realized was my backside. “Hmm?” he asked, clearly distracted.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Brick. What’re you doing here? I’m not going to give you s*x. You’re not going to give me an interview. We’re at a stalemate. So why are you sitting on my kitchen counter?”

He shrugged and restlessly tapped his fingers on the countertop next to his thigh until they slipped over the edge and discovered a drawer underneath. Pulling it open, he shut it, then opened it, and shut it again, showing me just how much fidgety energy he needed to expend.

“So Hayd’s all married off now,” he started conversationally as I dealt with my nervousness about this handsome man being in my kitchen by grabbing my purse off the table where I’d set it down and hanging it on a wall hook and then putting away a box of cereal I’d left out from breakfast.

“Kaity’s pretty much the same, meaning neither of them are any fun to play with anymore,” he went on. “That typically would’ve left me with plenty of a social life to explore on my own, you know, but lately everyone only wants to discuss my mother. And that’s just one subject I’m plumb tired of reliving. Except you.” He pointed at me. “You don’t seem to give a s**t about the life and times of Lana Judge.”

“Oh!” I blinked in surprise and straightened my back. “Well, I guess I’ve heard enough from Kaitlynn and Gabby about her that I’m kind of over the whole scandal and past it already.”

“Hmm.” He nodded thoughtfully before adding, “Well, whatever the reason; it’s refreshing. And I like it. Are you sure we can’t have s*x? Not even oral? Hell, I’d settle for heavy petting over the clothes at this point.”

“No s*x,” I said dryly, spotting a stain further down the countertop and picking up a washcloth from the sink to wipe it away. “No oral. No petting. No kissing.” I tossed the cloth back into the sink with a sense of finality and turned backed to him. “No touching.”

“Damn,” he muttered. “You’re just no fun.” Opening my drawer again, he looked down and started to snoop through the contents.

“You’re absolutely right, I really am no fun,” I told him seriously as I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the refrigerator to watch him browse. “Not at all. So you should probably just leave already. And do you mind not going through my things? Geesh. Where are your manners?”

“What? I was bored…” His eyes widened as he pulled up a silvery foil-wrapped stick that was three inches long and less than an inch wide. “And looking for gum. So voilà!”

“I have no idea how long that’s been in there,” I told him dryly as he unwrapped it and promptly stuck the piece into his mouth.

Only to spit it back into its wrapper a second later. “Holy s**t. That’s as hard as a rock.”

I snickered. “Serves you right.”

As he tossed the wadded wrapper onto the counter beside him, his eyes widened before he dove back into the drawer and pulled something else up.

“This is birth control,” he said, picking the packet up and showing it to me.

I rolled my eyes and stepped away from the refrigerator to take it back from him. “Wow, you’re just a genius, aren’t you? Probably know all your shapes and colors too, I bet.”

He snickered and held the pills out of my reach, scanning me slowly before saying, “You strike me as the monogamous type.”

“Because I am the monogamous type,” I muttered irritably, reaching out again. Only to miss the packet when he switched it to his other hand so I couldn’t get it. I growled at him. “Now, will you give me my pills back?”

“Oh!” he answered in surprise as if he hadn’t realized I’d been trying to fetch them. “Sure. Here you go.”

He let me snag them from his fingers, where I promptly tossed them back into the drawer.

“If you’re all monogamous”—he decided to pursue the topic, still staring at the pills—“and apparently sexually active enough to be taking birth control, then is there a specific guy out there that I need to worry about removing from my path so I can have you for myself?”

I blinked. “If that’s your way of asking if I have a boyfriend, then no. I don’t.” I scowled at him for even bringing it up and poking at that sensitive little nerve. “Not for a long time.”

He squinted as if confused. “Then why are you still taking—”

“Oh my God,” I growled, slamming the drawer shut. “I take them because they keep my periods regular. I like having a regular, damn, monthly flow. Plus, my cramps and mood swings aren’t as bad when I’m on them. Is that a good enough answer for you?”

A slow grin crawled up his face. “If this means there’s no one in my way and we can go bare, without condoms, then f**k yes. That’s the best answer ever.”

“Except I’d never have s*x with you without a condom,” I shot back snidely.

His smile dropped into a frown. “Why not?” He kind of looked like a kid who’d just gotten his balloon popped. “If you’re already protected, there’s no need to—”

“Because you’re a man w***e,” I cried. “Who knows what kind of nasty diseases you’re probably carrying around at all times.”

“Hey. Man w***e or not, I’ve never carried around any STD at any time, thank you very much. Hell, I haven’t even gone without a condom since—f**k, I don’t even remember when. But it’s been years. Though, for you, I would...” His eyebrows waggled suggestively. “Just as long as you keep taking these nifty little pills.”

“We are not going without…” I started, only to sputter out my own disbelief that I was seriously having this conversation with him because it was a total nonissue, since we were never going to have s*x together, period.

“How in the world did we even get onto this topic?” I muttered, pressing a hand to my brow as a stress headache began.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “You started it.”

My jaw fell open. “No, I didn’t!”

“Yes-huh,” he argued, sounding like a third-grader. “You tossed your damn birth control in my face. How was I not supposed to think about bare s*x with you after that?”

“I didn’t toss anything,” I shot back. “You snooped through my drawers.”

“Well, you let me,” he fired back. “It was practically like you were begging me to find them.”

“That’s it.” Grabbing his arm, I yanked him off the counter and onto the floor. “Out.”

“What’re you doing?” he asked curiously as he let me drag him across the kitchen. “If this is how you usually start a seduction—”

“I’m manually kicking you out of my apartment.”

“But you’re touching me,” he argued. “And you said no touching.”

I wasn’t really sure why I was kicking him out. I kind of liked bickering with him. He was fun company, even when he was being immature and annoying the hell out of me. And I felt more alive now than I had in a long time, plus the longer I stayed around him, the better chance I might have of getting him to change his mind about that interview.

And yet, the better chance it’d give him to get me to change my mind about s*x. Which was completely not safe.

For my heart.

So, yeah, I guess that was why I was kicking him out. To protect myself.

I tore the door open, knowing he needed to go before he really did sway me over to Team Sexy Times.

“I should at least get to touch you back once since you touched me,” he begged frantically, digging his feet in and resisting as I tried to pull him into the hall.

Letting go of him suddenly, I faced him with a frustrated growl. “Okay, fine. One touch, and then you go. But if you pick anywhere inappropriate, I’m kneeing you in the junk.”

His brows shot up. “But I actually have permission to pick someplace inappropriate if I’m willing to take a knee to the balls for it?”

I blinked. He actually seemed to be considering such drastic consequences just for the chance to touch me somewhere private. Men weren’t typically willing to go through that kind of trial for me. It was…

Nice.

But he probably didn’t really mean it, so I shook my head and muttered, “No. You do not have permission.”

“Damn,” he murmured. “But, okay, fine. I can still work with this.” He lifted his hands, wiggling all ten fingers as he considered my body from head to toe. “Decisions, decisions.”

The way he kept focusing on my breasts as he checked me out made me narrow my eyes. “I said no place inappropriate.”

“I know, I know,” he hissed, frowning. “But that still leaves plenty of appropriate places. Now, hush. This is a big decision. If I’ve only got one shot here; it’s gotta count.”

Um, had he really just shushed me?

His gaze slowly roved up until he was looking me in the eyes. Then, he released a breath and nodded. “Yep. It’s going to have to be the freckles.” And he lifted his hand hesitantly as if he expected me to bat it away.

My stomach swirled with anxiety as I suddenly realized what a stupid decision I’d made to let him touch me. But I’d promised, so I couldn't take it back now.

Keeping still and holding my breath, I stared back into his eyes as his fingers neared my face and then ever-so-lightly grazed my cheek.

“Dammit, Mayhem. You’re as soft as silk.” His eyes filled with agony as his thumb slipped over my bottom lip. “And you even have freckles on your mouth. I want to kiss every single f*****g one of them.”

I hiccupped a strange sob that seemed to come from the center of my chest and swayed toward him. “Brick.”

He looked up into my eyes immediately. But when I didn’t do anything else, he groaned and pressed his forehead to mine as he kept his palm cupped to my cheek. “Come on, woman. Make your move already.”

I shook my head, unable to.

He groaned. “Christ, Mayhem. Why are you doing this to us?” His voice was full of agony. “You have to be the one to instigate it. You know I can’t. That’s the deal. So why are you holding back? You want me just as much as I want you. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Because I can’t get hurt again,” I finally admitted.

He pulled back so he could see my entire expression.

I shook my head and apologized to him with my eyes. “I’ve been left so many times; I’m just one broken heart away from falling apart completely. So I need something reliable right now, or at least the belief and a little reassurance that it’s got some permanence behind it. And everyone tells me that’s not you.”

He studied me a moment longer before finally breaking the glance and looking down shamefully. “No,” he admitted quietly. “That’s not me.”

“Then nothing is going to happen between us. So you should just—”

He peered out the opened doorway of my apartment and into the hall before spinning back to me. “Can’t we just hang out, at least? No s*x. Nothing s****l at all.”

Shaking my head, I began to nudge him out of my home because doing anything with him right now would be too dangerous.

“We could watch a movie,” he suggested, his eyes begging. “Or go somewhere for food.”

I sighed and got him all the way into the hallway. “Good night, Brick.”

I began to close the door in his face when he said, “Or how about we tag some s**t together?”