Love Like Fire

Chapter 3: Chopped

On my way home, I worried about things I'd never worried about before. Outside of Kay, I never had company, and she'd been in California for the past year.

I wondered if I'd thrown out the trash that morning. I was so bad at remembering to do that. I'd planned on doing laundry on Saturday, but I hadn't started sorting the clothes out in the living room had I? Shit. I hated the fact that people were nose blind to the smell of their homes. What the hell did mine smell like?

My mind ran a mile a minute during the half hour drive. Every now and then, I'd glance at Jackson through the rearview mirror, but he was always lost in his own thoughts.

I ran my index nail against my teeth, so damned tempted to bite it off, but I'd worked too hard to leave that habit behind.

It was six fifteen when we pulled into the parking spaces of my apartment building. After letting Jackson out of my two door Mini Cooper, I watched Cameron step out of his sleek, yet out of place, black BMW.

I almost asked him to wait there while I gathered my things. Clearly, he was used to the finer things if his car and the hotel we stayed at were any indication, but I was proud of my home.

I'd saved my financial aid refund all four years I was in college because I had no plans on moving back home after graduation.

Though Bricksfield wasn't a large town, I made sure to find a place that was in a different neighborhood than my mom. It also helped that she remarried rich a year after and had moved to the suburbs on the outskirts of town.

I'd moved in on my own, furnished the place on my own, and was so proud of myself. I refused to let someone else's accomplishments diminish that. With my head held high, I led them upstairs.

"That has to be my favorite cleaning solution."

"What?" I hadn't realized I was lost in my thoughts until Cameron spoke.

"Fabuloso," he answered with a smile as he entered my home.

Oh thank God. He thought my house smelled like Fabuloso? My shoulders sagged with relief. There was only one dish in the sink, the one Jackson ate cereal in that morning, so I quickly rinsed it and put it away before making my way into the living room where the boys stood.

"I'll be right back," I said, more for Jackson's benefit.

The couch and coffee table were cluttered with work stuff and the vision boards I was working on, so Cameron leaned against the half wall that separated the living room from the kitchen.

Jackson chose to stand near the balcony doors.

I rushed to my room and threw whatever was clean into a duffle bag. As long as I could make outfits out of what I packed, I'd be fine. I didn't plan on being with them long, just until Cameron figured things out.

I froze, the situation I'd placed myself in finally settling in. What the hell was I doing? I dropped the bag and paced the room.

Cameron was basically a stranger. A stranger who knew me intimately, but a stranger. I didn't know the first thing about healthy home dynamics, yet volunteered to be the middle ground between him and Jackson.

"Fuck." I groaned. I had half a mind to call Kay and have her talk me out of it, but she'd probably encourage it. Plus, I couldn't do that to Jackson. He deserved better.

When I stepped back into the living room, I had a suitcase of my stuff in one hand and a backpack with Jackson's clothes in the other.

Cameron quirked a brow, and a smile lit up his face.