He shakes his head. "I couldn't do that to you." He looks me in the eyes. "Offer you a taste and deny you a meal."
"Did you just refer to yourself as a meal?"
"I did, didn't I?"
"Yeah. Have some self-respect. Seriously, Cam. I worry about you sometimes."
"It is true."
"There are other meals out there," I say.
"They won't compare. No one will ever compare. I can't do that to you. I can't ruin every fuck of your life that way."
"That's such a bullshit cop out," I say. "Just admit it's because of Ty's instructions."
"No," he says. "I like you too much. I can't hurt you that way."
"You like me too much to fuck me?"
"I do."
"You really believe that?"
"Of course." He says it with conviction.
But I'm not sure I believe him.
Chapter Eight
Sienna
Cam finishes every sip of his four-cup French Press. He drinks the way he does everything, with effortless grace.
He never seems like he's trying. Even after a five-mile run. It's like he lives and dies by the motto never let them see you sweat.
Well, not literally.
He's still all sweaty and sleeveless and tempting.
And we're parting for the next twenty-four hours, give or take. He has work to finish, with Ty, I guess, then we're meeting before dinner Sunday to discuss the joint bachelor/bachelorette party.
It's in exactly one week and we don't have a single hard plan. We've spent the last few weeks trading ideas, from dick shaped straws to custom pornography, but nothing is written in stone.
Honestly, I don't get the point of a bachelor party. Maybe it works for a guy who sees marriage as a prison, but Ty is obsessed with my sister. And she's over the moon. She gets stars in her eyes anytime she hears the words Ty or wedding or gown or honeymoon.
She's happy.
He's rich.
It's smart to nail that down.
Sure, it changes things. I guess it's sweet that Ty is worried about me, but I'm fine. I've been through way worse. My dad died when I was a kid. And my mom fell apart after.
Indigo stepped up to take care of us. She made sure there was always food on the table and clean clothes in the closet.
I did what I could, but she insisted I put soccer first.
Back then, with our limited means, soccer was my way out. I was good enough for a full scholarship to a Division I school. Which meant four years to study math and find a grad school program with a generous stipend.
Then Mom died and everything really fell apart.
And, somehow, Ty swooped into her life exactly when she needed him.
She loves him, and she's incredibly satisfied.
Sure, I miss living in the same place, watching reality marathons every Saturday afternoon, grabbing boba tea on the way home after school, being the number one person in her life.
But how can I complain about Ty paying my rent? Okay, yes, it comes with invisible strings. I don't like that.
But a one-bedroom to myself? A closet full of nice clothes? A fridge packed with fresh food?
I eat at the best restaurants in New York City when I'm with them. I can live with a dress code and a little too much lovey dovey talk.
I'm glad Indigo is living her life, finding love, reclaiming her passion for music.
There's no reason to be upset about that change.
There's no reason to throw a party claiming it's a bad thing.
But if she wants a party, she gets a party. I'm not missing the chance to embarrass her. Or Ty.
The man wears a poker face. If I can really get him to crack—
That will be something.
I let my thoughts wander on the walk home.
My apartment is clean (ish) and quiet. It's my space. The first thing in my life that's really mine.
Only it's not mine. It's Ty's. I'm a visitor.
And that…
Whatever.
I push the thought aside as I step into the shower. It's a big space, with new stainless steel appliances and perfect water pressure.
Better than I ever expected.
Another perk of luxury.
Is that how Cam sees it? He does wear his suit everywhere. And he did buy the most expensive pour over.
And he certainly enjoys his hundred-dollar-a-glass wine.
Is he comfortable with luxury?
Or does it still feel strange, like he's a visitor in someone else's life?
I close my eyes. Wet my hair. Let water drip down my cheeks, chin, shoulders.
What if he was here, in this warm, wet space with me?
My head fills with beautiful images.
My hand on his chest.
My fingers tracing the tattoo on his shoulders. Those curving black letters. The jagged heart on his chest.
His lips on my neck.
His hand between my legs.
His voice in my ears.
No teasing, no bullshit, just him ordering me to come on his hand.
I slip my hand between my legs. Follow the thread of my thoughts to places I shouldn't go.
I come fast.
Twice.
Then I catch my breath, finishing washing, dress.
Find my sister waiting for me.
Chapter Nine
Sienna
Indigo is leaning against the kitchen counter in a short black sundress, a takeout coffee cup in her hand.
She has a key.
I have a key to her place too, but I don't usually enter without knocking. There's too high a chance I'll walk in on her and Ty naked.
And I really don't need to see that.
"Iced latte." She offers me the drink.
Mmm. Iced latte. She can stop by to drop off an iced latte anytime.
She can stop by anytime.
That was my policy before Cam showed up. There's no reason for it to change.
"Thanks." I accept the drink with a smile. "You don't have one."
She points to an iced tea on the counter and gives me a slow once-over. An older sister one. Equal parts I'm your friend and I'm here for you and I'm your protector and I'm making sure you don't need protection. "You look cute."
"This old thing?"
"And you?"
She smiles and does a quick curtsy. "I try."
"Does Ty like it?"
She shoots me a really look. "You care if Ty likes it."
"Don't you?"
"Only if we're playing."
Playing what? Indie tries to shield me from her sex life. I don't know details. I'm not sure I want details. "Playing as in role playing?" Okay, I want details.
"If we're meeting for sex."
"You meet for things besides sex?"
"We live together."
"Even so."
She laughs and pulls me into a tight hug. "I hope you never change."
"What about me? I mean, I'm really great, so I'm sure it's a lot of things. But specifically…"
"You have such a strong sense of what matters." She releases me. Takes a long sip of her tea. "Hold on to that."
"You or Ty always object to my marriage criteria." I try my iced latte. Mmm, sweet, sweet caffeine, creamy milk, just enough added sugar. Perfect. "Which is so hypocritical. Since you two are always screwing like rabbits."