Precious Consequences Page 2

  His brows furrow. “No, Hayls. Do you think that’s why I invited you? So that I could just have sex with you?”

  “Yes.” I reply honestly. Kyle looks away from me and I know I’ve caught him.

  “Look, Hayley, I -” I put my hand up, interrupting him mid-sentence.

  “Don’t, Kyle. I know the drill. I used you just as much as you used me and now it’s over.”

  I jump off the bed and start gathering my clothes. Kyle doesn’t move from the bed while I dress, but when I look up again he’s standing in front of me, wearing only his jeans.

  “Hayley, wait.” he pleads. His expression is one of guilt. But guilt over what exactly? Having sex with me or admitting that it’s all he wanted me for?

  I see another emotion flit across his features but it’s gone before I can determine what it is. Our eyes meet for the last time and I do something I’ve never done with anyone else before. I touch his cheek. And then his lips. “Goodbye, Kyle.” I whisper. I’m not sure why I say it, or why I touch his face that way, but for the first time ever I feel something else, something new.

  Regret.

  Horns break through the memory and I jump in my seat. The traffic light in front of me is green but I was too distracted to notice. I ease forward into the traffic, ignoring the swear words being thrown in my direction by other drivers. I check my rearview mirror again, to make sure Ari is okay, and find her staring out the window, still singing her song. I’m silently grateful that the only reminder I have of her father is her brown eyes and that her dark curls and fair skin come from me. Not that it would’ve mattered. The day she was born I knew I would love her forever, regardless of who she looks like.

  I stop in the small parking lot outside the daycare center and take a deep breath to steel my nerves. I don’t want Ari to see how terrified I am. I want her to see that I’m brave, even if that’s the last thing I feel. I climb out and open Ari’s door. She looks up at me and smiles, all her new teeth on full display. “You ready to make some new friends, monkey?” I ask her while unbuckling her car seat.

  Her eyes widen, filling with excitement and curiosity. “Yes mommy! You a monkey!” she squeals, giggling.

  I let out a little laugh. “Oh, really? If I’m a monkey, then what are you?”

  Her little eyebrows scrunch before she answers. “I’m a pwincess,” she proclaims. I take her bag from the back seat and pull her onto my hip.

  “Yes,” I reply softly, placing a kiss on her forehead. “You’re my little princess.”

  Chapter 2

  ~ Cameron ~

  I roll over in bed and immediately feel hands all over my lower body. I don’t need to open my eyes to know who it is, or what she’s doing, because this is a regular morning wake-up call for me. Rachel’s mouth trails down my stomach, lowering until her hot breath blows over my morning wood. My cock jerks, a little sensitive to the heat of her mouth, and she giggles.

  “I see someone’s a little eager for some play time,” she purrs. I open one eye and look down the length of my body to where her head is. Her grin is seductive, and sexy, yet something about this feels…old. The only excitement I feel is the physical kind, but I’d be an idiot to turn this down. I watch her mouth wrap around the tip of my cock and drop my head back as a groan escapes from my mouth. I reach down, grabbing Rachel’s bleached blonde hair, and guide her until my tip hits the back of her throat. I wonder idly if Rachel would still wake me up like this if we were actually a couple, or if she only does it in the hopes that I’ll make whatever we are ‘official’. If that’s the case, I see many more mornings just like this in my near future because as far as mine and Rachel’s relationship status is concerned, we’re nothing more than ‘fuck buddies’, as my best friend Noah likes to call it.

  My hips jerk wildly and I screw my eyes shut as my orgasm rips me into shreds. When I manage to calm my erratic breathing, I open my eyes to a very naked Rachel straddling my waist. She leans down to kiss me and I oblige. There is no spark, no electricity. Nothing. At least not from my side. I’m willing to bet Rachel is hearing wedding bells right now. Too bad I couldn’t care less. She rubs herself on me, sliding up and down, getting me hard again. Her moan should encourage me to take care of her, like she did me, but I feel no such inclination. I sit up, grab her hips, and pull her from my waist. “I’m going to shower,” I say callously. “I have to take Jordan to daycare before class.” Her pout becomes a scowl.

  “What about me?” she asks petulantly. I climb out of bed, not caring that I’m buck ass naked, and look at her over my shoulder.

  “Maybe later, babe,” I shrug.

  She huffs behind me. “You’re such a jerk, Cam.”

  With an eye roll, I walk into my bathroom. “You knew that when we started fucking around, Rachel. Feel free to leave,” I half-yell through my bathroom door. The sound of the shower turning on drowns out whatever obscenity Rachel is yelling and I focus on nothing but the water. It provides the kind of refuge I find when I’m in the pool. A thrill passes through me at the thought of a new swimming season starting. I never stop training, but there’s something exhilarating about a new competitive season that makes my pulse race. Our first meet, which is at home, is in two weeks against Vanderbilt and will be the perfect excuse to spend more time in the pool than at home. My mother won’t like it, but she’ll understand. It’s too difficult being here. The last two years have haunted me. My guilt and self-contempt plague me, as do the memories of how I ruined our perfect family. At least when I’m in the pool, I don’t think, I don’t feel. I just glide through the water, free of, well, everything.

  I step out of the shower and dry myself off. When I walk back out into my room, Rachel is nowhere to be found and I sigh in relief. I would hate to kick her out, especially after the killer blowjob she gave me, but I don’t tolerate drama and that girl thrives on it. There’s no need to add to the rigid atmosphere that holds us captive in this house. I dress quickly, pack my bag and make my way downstairs. My classes only start at eleven, but I have to take my three-year-old nephew, Jordan, to daycare and then meet Noah at the coffee shop on campus. I walk into the kitchen and find my mother sitting down at the breakfast counter, her back to me. Jordan is propped up in his high chair with a bowl in front of him. The chocolate cereal decorates his mouth as well as every surface around him.

  “Oh, Jordan, eat nicely!” my mother admonishes with a shake of her head. Jordan laughs, finding my mother hilarious, and she can’t help but laugh with him. I listen to the sound of her laughter filling the kitchen for the first time in two years. I wish she’d laugh more, it’s a beautiful sound, and so is the smile I know that accompanies it. But I’m the reason she doesn’t laugh anymore. And it kills me.

  “Mornin’, Mom,” I greet.

  “Cameron!” My mother shrieks and jumps in her chair, spilling more of Jordan’s cereal. “You’ll give your momma a heart attack sneaking up like that!” She turns to face me, her hand resting on her chest, and gives me her full, mega-watt smile.

  “Sorry, Mom,” I chuckle. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just came down to grab some coffee before I take Jordan to daycare.”

  “That’s fine, honey,” she says, turning her attention back to the squealing toddler in front of her. “We’re almost done here. Jordan is obviously finished with his food because now he’s just playing with it and making a mess.”

  “Have you heard from Candice and Brett?” I ask, thinking about my sister. They decided to take one last holiday before their second baby is born and my mother was only too thrilled to have Jordan for the week. I had to admit, having the little man here seemed to lighten the mood in the house, maybe even breathe a little more life into it. I fill a mug with freshly brewed java and lean my hip against the counter. My mother cleans Jordan’s face and pulls him out of the high chair. As soon as his little feet hit the ground, he sets off running in my direction. I put the coffee mug down just as he hits my legs and I catch him, lifting him into my arms. />
  “Hey, little man. You enjoy your breakfast?” I smile at him and he nods, burrowing his head into my neck. I’ve become used to his little displays of affection and I’ll come to miss them when he leaves. Something about the way he hugs, or even touches, is so innocent and sincere. It’s a reminder of what we are, before life happens and takes it from us.

  My mother comes to stand in front of us. “Your sister called this morning,” she says. “They are having a wonderful time in Paris, but she says she can’t wait to come home.” Her smile falters slightly. “I’m going to miss having Jordan here,” she adds. The sadness that has taken root in my mother's eyes shines bright. I force myself to look away, afraid that it will stifle me.

  “Are you ready to go?” I ask Jordan.

  He smiles wide before yelling, “Yes! Go ride in Uncle Cam’s truck!” He claps his hands excitedly and wriggles free from my grasp. He runs into the foyer and waltzes back into the kitchen, holding his backpack proudly. My mother positions it on his back and he takes it as his cue to go to my truck.

  My mother looks at me. “Cam,” she starts. “Have you been to see -” I put my hand up to stop her.

  “No, Mom,” I shake my head. “Don’t.”

  “You can’t avoid it forever,” she says, her bottom lip trembling. “We’ll have to make a decision soon, and I want you to make peace b-b-before….” Her words trail off as her small body trembles, shaking with broken sobs. I wrap my arms around her and try my best to push aside my guilt long enough to comfort her. I want to say I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s not enough. It won’t change anything. It won’t bring back what I took from our family.

  My mother pulls away and looks at me. “Cam, I don’t blame you and neither does Candice. We never did. We love you,” she says, cupping my face. “Please, do it for me. Our family needs to heal, and you need to forgive yourself.” I wish her pleas fell on deaf ears, but they don’t. I hear them loud and clear.

  “Mom, I - ” I don’t know what to say. It won’t be what she wants to hear, so I try for something that will satisfy her, even if it’s temporarily. “I’ll try,” I say, releasing a heavy breath from my chest. “I just need some time.” Her silent nod is acquiescing and I know she couldn’t possibly understand why I need time, or why I am undeserving of her forgiveness. I kiss her on the forehead and leave the kitchen. Jordan is waiting patiently beside my truck and hops into his car seat as soon as I open the door. He’s quiet in the back, and I can’t say that I mind. It makes it easier for me to deal with the clusterfuck of warring emotions in my chest during the short drive to the daycare center. I cut the ignition and jump out. When I fling Jordan onto my shoulder, his high-pitched squeal and consequent laughter somehow makes me feel lighter, like it’s okay to smile. So I do.

  When I walk into the daycare center, the two women that work the front desk both smile at me, batting their eyelashes. This isn’t abnormal. I get this reaction nine times out of ten when I walk into a room. “Mornin’, ladies.” I give them the boyish grin that makes them squirm and they respond with a round of giggles. I try not to roll my eyes when they lean over and push their tits out in an attempt at being provocative.

  “Hi, Cameron,” the one chimes. “What can I do for you?”

  My eyebrows shoot up at her suggestive tone and she bites her lip. I have no idea who she is, or how she knows my name, but I’m almost certain she’d let me do her on the front desk if I asked. I point to Jordan, still happily sitting on my shoulders. “Delivery,” I say. I lift Jordan over my head and put him on the ground. The other woman leans over the counter and smiles at Jordan. I can’t help but look at her generous cleavage, her nipples barely covered by her pink bra. “Hi, Jordy,” she chimes. “We missed you.”

  Jordan hides behind my leg, his cheeks turning red. He’s been coming here for a year so I should’ve guessed they’d know him. When he gets older, I’ll have to teach him that looking at girls like this is fun, but they’re trouble. I’m no saint when it comes to girls and I like a good roll in the sheets as much as the next guy, but I know to avoid the ‘town bicycles’. Another term I learned from my best friend, Noah.

  “Can you tell me which class to go to?” I ask, a little impatiently.

  “Sure.” The woman straightens up and clears her throat, ignoring the snicker that comes from her colleague beside her. “Straight down the hall. It’s the third room on your left.” I nod my thanks and manage to drop Jordan off without much resistance. He gets a little pissy but I promise to take him for ice-cream after my swimming practice. That does the trick.

  I feel hungry eyes on my back as I leave and walk back out to my truck, but what I see in the parking lot renders me speechless. And that never happens.

  A woman with an amazing ass is bent over the hood of a Mini Cooper, peering down at the engine. The image and the thought of what I would like to do to that ass does more than stir my imagination. “Fuck,” she mutters. I didn’t think a curse word could sound so sexy coming from a woman’s lips, but hell, I wish she’d say it again. I take a step closer; the gravel sifting under my shoe alerts her to my presence. She spins around and fixes me with an alarmed gaze. Her long brown hair hangs down past her shoulders in soft ringlets. The white tank top she’s wearing hugs her figure and shows off her perfect tits. My eyes move lower, noticing how her jeans cover her long legs like a second skin. Rachel is a looker, but it’s all fake. Fake nails, fake hair, fake tits. But nothing about the sexy-as-fuck woman in front of me is fake.

  “Sorry,” I say lifting my hands up. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you need help?”

  “Yeah, um, my car…” she hesitates, looking from me to her car and then back again. “It won’t start and I don’t think it’s the battery.”

  “Mind if I take a look?”

  She nods once. “Sure.”

  I take a step closer and catch a whiff of her perfume. It’s sweet, and light, and when a slight breeze catches her hair, her scent mingles with that of shampoo. It’s distracting. I shake my head, clearing it of all unsavory images.

  “I can’t see anything,” I say, bending over the engine. “But my buddy owns a tow truck business. I could give him a call if you want?”

  She pulls her lip between her teeth and I can tell she’s not trying to be sexy. She’s trying to decide whether she can trust me or not. “Do you know how long it will take?” she asks. A frown mars her beautiful features and I wonder what has her so worried.

  “You have somewhere to be?”

  “I have class in an hour. It’s my first day and I don’t want to be late.”

  “You need a ride? I’m heading over to the University anyway.”

  She thinks it over. “You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

  I throw my head back and laugh. I can’t help myself. She asks the question so seriously. Is she for real?

  “What gave me away?” I ask between my fits of laughter. “Is it my tattoos?”

  Her lips lift into a shy smile. “Sorry,” she giggles. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I wasn’t expecting help from a complete stranger.” Her eyes drift down my body, paying special attention to my ink.

  “None taken….” I wait for her to give me her name.

  “Oh, sorry.” she says flustered. “Hayley. My name’s Hayley.”

  I smile, watching her cheeks flush. “It’s nice to meet you Hayley.”

  Her eyebrows lift, and I suspect she’s waiting for me to tell her my name in return. “Well?” she urges. “Don’t you have a name?”

  I chuckle. “What kind of serial killer would I be if I gave you my name?”

  She rolls her eyes but I can see the smile playing on her lips. “Can you at least phone your friend so we can have my car taken to a garage? Please? I’ll worry about you killing me later.”

  Oh, shit. I totally forgot about that.

  I pull my phone out, laughing at her again, and dial Greg’s number. Within ten minutes I’ve arranged for Hayley’s Mini to be towed a
nd taken back to Greg’s garage in town. I’ve also asked him to have it fixed and driven back to where she lives.

  “Done,” I say, ending the call and looking back at Hayley. “Grab your stuff. We wouldn’t want you to be late for class on your first day of college, now, would we?”

  Hayley opens her car door and retrieves her bag, while I close the hood of her car. She follows me to my truck, hesitating when I open the passenger door. I grin. “I’m not a serial killer, Hayley.”

  She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth to hide her smile. “That’s what serial killers say.”

  I shake my head, amused.

  This girl is unbelievable.

  Chapter 3

  ~ Hayley ~

  I wait, hoping that the sexy stranger in front of me will tell me his name before I decide to get in his truck. I have forty minutes to get to class, and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to turn down my ride, but I’d feel a little more at ease if I can put a name to the picturesque face staring at me with an amused expression. He takes a step closer to me and I have to resist the innate urge to step back. I don’t feel threatened, or in danger, but I’m still cautious. The old Hayley wouldn’t have given this a second thought. She might’ve even considered doing dirty things with this stranger in return for his help. But I’m not that girl anymore. And now, more than ever, I’m trying to prove that.

  “I promise, Hayley,” he says gently. The way he says my name is distracting. “I’m not a serial killer, and I won’t try any funny business. At least not until I know you a little better.” He grins, a dimple forming on each cheek, and the tension evaporates from my shoulders. His easy-going demeanor is infectious and I can’t help but return his smile.

  “How can I trust you if I don’t know your name?” I tease.

  “What makes you think you can trust me?” he retorts.

  I scan his face. “I’ll take my chances,” I say confidently. “Your tattoos don’t make you look as scary as you’d think.”