One of the Boys ✔️

XVIII

I don't know what time it was when I stumbled out of the elevator.

My phone died in the Uber ride home, so all I had for entertainment was the driver telling me about the funniest/drunk people he's ever driven around. I think I might have made that list.

I unzipped my shoulder bag and fossicked around for my keys. Sorting through them one by one until I found the one for the front door, I looked back and forth from the lock to the key.

Hmm, I thought. Getting that in there's going to take a few tries.

I moved my hand toward the lock, but the tip of the key smacked into the door handle.

"Fuck," I muttered, trying again.

My second attempt wasn't any more successful. Biting my lip as I tried to keep my hand steady, it almost made it into the lock before my hand jerked and it scraped along the front of the door.

I barely stopped myself from screaming in frustration.

"Come on, you piece of shit," I whispered, as I aimed the key for the lock once more. This time it slid in, and I heard the click of the door unlocking as I turned the key. "Yes!"

Unlike I expected, the lights were still on when I slowly opened the door.

Oh, God, please don't tell me they're both still here...

I held a hand up to cover my eyes, peeking through the gap between my middle and ring finger as I pushed the door the rest of the way open. My eyes went immediately to the couch, and it wasn't empty, but only Cam was lying there, his tired brown eyes focused entirely on me.

"What are you doing?" he asked me, voice hoarse from sleep.

The tone of his voice stirred up feelings in my stomach... and lower.

I lowered my hand from my eyes as I stepped into the apartment, wincing slightly at how loud my - Mia's - heels sounded on the floor. "Nothing."

I hobbled over to the kitchen counter where I leaned against it as I tried to take my heels off. I wasn't doing a very good job at it. The sound of Cameron chuckling made me look up and glare at him. He was sitting up now, only wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tank. His eyes moved from my face down the rest of my body, and judging from the way his body stiffened slightly, I'd bet he only just noticed what I was wearing. I felt a smirk creep its way onto my face at the thought that I had this type of reaction on him.

"Where did you get those clothes?" He asked me, his eyes still trained on my body.

"Mia's cupboard," I said, successfully removing one of my heels and dropping it onto the ground. I whimpered slightly as my foot flattened on the floor, a bit of pain flaring through the arch of my foot at having been on that angle for so long.

The sound that I made caused Cam's eyes to jump back up to mine. "Do you need a hand?"

He made to stand, but I lifted the hand that wasn't pulling off my shoe to stop him. Which was an incredibly bad idea, considering that hand was the one keeping me upright against the island. I started to topple forward, but Cam was already there, catching me in his arms before I hit the deck.

"I think you do," he murmured, eyes trained on mine as he looked down at me. A piece of his dark brown hair fell over his forehead and it took all I had not to reach out and push it back.

No. He was a jerk earlier.

My body apparently didn't remember why we were supposed to be mad at him, and it was making my brain a pushover. When I sobered up, that thing was going to be so mad at me.