All Over You (All Falls Down #3) (12 page)

BOOK: All Over You (All Falls Down #3)
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His gaze drifts upward. "I should arrest you," he mutters. "At least then your ass would stay where I tell you to."

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Don't look at me like that. You ran off to Los Angeles alone, kitten. I'm so pissed, I want to bend you over and spank your ass right here."

I'm pretty sure he means it, if the expression on his face―half frustrated scowl, half wicked smirk―is any indication. The thought sends another little thrill through me, but I stave it off, refusing to budge until I do what I came here to do.

"I know you told me not to leave San Francisco, and I'm sorry for ignoring you, but I didn't have a choice," I say, my voice soft and sincere. "I need to find out the truth before I go to prison for a crime I didn't commit."

Cam stares at me in silence for a long moment. "You think that's why I'm pissed?"

"Isn't it?"

He says nothing, but he doesn't have to. I know that's not the only reason he's angry with me. I dumped him over the phone without explanation, and then ran off on my own. Before I can find the nerve to broach that particular topic, though, he sighs heavily and mutters under his breath. All I manage to catch is the word
kitten
, and what is quite possibly another threat to spank my ass.

"What's your plan?" he asks then.

I blink at him. "What?"

"Your plan. I assume that's why you're here." He arches a brow at me, the corner of his lips tilting upward. The cocky bastard is laughing at me again.

"Yes," I snap, crossing my arms over my chest when he lets me go. "Of course I have a plan."

He eyes me silently and then twirls his finger in a hurry it up motion.

"Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?" I ask, rolling my eyes at him.

His smile grows.

"I'm leaving now." I brush past him, headed toward the Court of Sciences and Boelter Hall. When he falls into step beside me, I sigh in relief. As crazy as he makes me, he has a badge and I don't. I have a feeling people are going to be a lot more willing to answer his questions than they would be mine.

 

 

When we arrive at Boelter Hall a few minutes later, classes are just letting out. A steady stream of students enter and exit through the two sets of double doors. The branches of two massive trees hang over the entrance, casting it in shade. Two boys sit beside an attractive young brunette on the low wall announcing the name of the building, arguing back and forth about something. She's completely oblivious to them, her gaze riveted to the textbook in her hands.

"Excuse me," Cam says, stepping in front of the group. He holds up his badge before letting it fall against his chest again. "My name is Detective Lewis with the San Francisco Police Department. I'd like to ask you a few questions about your classmate, Rory Clark."

The girl lifts her gaze from her book and blinks, her mouth open in a little '
O
' of surprise as she takes in Cam in all his tattooed, casual sexiness.

"Sure," one guy says, taking his glasses off and then putting them right back on. He turns to look at me, his gaze roving over my face before he dismisses me as unimportant and turns back to Cam. "I'm Adam, and this is Penny, and Jonathan. How can we help?"

A couple of students passing by slow as if to listen in to our conversation, but hurry their steps when they notice me standing there. I'm not sure if they recognize me like the two girls from earlier did, or if they think I'm a police officer, too. I don't think I want to know.

"Did you know Mr. Clark?" Cam asks, slipping into cop mode. His expression is stoic, his gaze focused on the group before him. He tilts his body toward them like they're having an actual conversation instead of being interrogated, trying to put them at ease, I think.

I watch him quietly. He takes his job so seriously, and it's obvious he's good at what he does. Another pang goes through me at the thought of him losing his career because of me. Even if he won't admit it, there's a very real possibility that could happen. Especially now that they've located Rory's body in San Francisco. I've watched enough
Law & Order
to know that makes any sort of relationship between us not only impossible, but also dangerous for him. He has to know it, too.

And yet, he's here anyway
, a little voice whispers in the back of my mind.

Why?

I doubt he came here to find me simply because he wants to sleep with me.

"We had a class together last semester," Jonathan says. "Nice guy, incredibly smart, but I didn't really know him."

"Neither did I," Adam says when Cam looks at him.

"I did."

Cam turns to Penny, who blushes and shifts her gaze to me and then back to him. Curiosity shines in her blue eyes, as if she's wondering why I didn't introduce myself, but she doesn't seem to recognize me, either.

"We were friends," she says, her voice full of sadness.

Both Adam and Jonathan scoot closer to her, as if to shield her. Jonathan slips his hand into hers, holding it tightly.

"When was the last time you saw him?" Cam asks her.

"A couple of days before he left campus. Um, Friday, I think."

"Did he seem distraught or upset to you?"

I tense, waiting for Penny to point at me and tell him yes, that I made him that way. The fear is completely irrational given that she didn't seem to recognize me a few moments ago, but I can't help but hold my breath, waiting for her to call me a murderer and send the entire student body after me.

"A little," she says, biting her bottom lip. "I mean, he's been upset a lot lately. When I first met him, he was really laid back and cool, very gregarious. The last few months though, he's been sad and depressed, withdrawn. There was a rumor going around that he wasn't able to pay his tuition, but I don't know if that was true or not. He didn't really talk about it."

"Did he mention anything about why he was upset?"

"He said he was having girl problems."

"Girl problems?"

"Him and his girlfriend broke up again, I guess."

"Again?"

"They fought a lot," Penny says, shrugging.

"Apparently, he was dating some high maintenance model who used to go to school here," Adam supplies, one leg bouncing up and down against the wall. "Ivy or something. No one really believed him though. I mean, stranger things have happened, but models don't usually fall for nerds."

"Not unless they're rich," Jonathan agrees.

"So you never met his girlfriend?" Cam asks, looking at Penny.

"No. I don't think anyone did."

"Oh?"

"She didn't live here," Penny explains, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Honestly, I'm not even sure if Rory ever saw her in person. It was one of those online relationships, you know? He spent a lot of time holed up in his room, or on his phone, talking to her. Who knows if she was really who she said she was? People lie online all the time."

Despite the fact that her comment adds credence to my claims that Fake Ivy isn't me, my shoulders sag. If no one ever met her, proving that she isn't me is going to be a lot harder than I need it to be. I think Cam knows it, too. He's quiet for a moment, jotting in his little notebook, before he glances up again.

"Do you know who might know more about his relationship?" he asks.

"Tommy Wahler or Jessica Mabry might," Penny says. "They were really close with him. Tommy was his roommate, so he'd know more than anyone, I would think. I haven't seen either of them around today, though."

"Any idea where we might find them?"

"Tommy is probably with his parents," Adam says. "He's pretty torn up about the whole thing. He was the last one who saw Rory."

"Any idea what they talked about?"

Adam shrugs.

"He said Rory was kind of out of it," Penny mumbles. "Tommy thought he'd get over it, so he didn't push when Rory refused to tell him what was going on. And then Rory left and never came back."

"What about Miss Mabry? Any idea where I might find her?"

"She's probably with Tommy." Penny's gaze drifts from Cam to me again. If she wonders who I am, or why I'm here, she doesn't say anything though. "She and Tommy are dating."

"I'd imagine they've already told LAPD everything they know," Jonathan murmurs. "Their detectives have been here asking questions as well."

Cam pulls a couple of business cards out of his pocket and holds them out to Jonathan and Penny. "If you think of anything else that might help, please call me."

"Of course," Penny says, looking at the card before sliding it into her textbook.

Jonathan slips his into his breast pocket and nods.

"Thank you for your time," Cam murmurs politely before leading me away.

I follow after him, dejected.

"You okay?" he asks me once we're out of hearing range, leaning close.

I nod.

"You satisfied now?"

I nod again, more slowly this time.

"Good. Then let's go."

I don't argue with him this time. There's nothing for me to find here today.

 

chapter ten

come undone

 

 

 

"Where are you parked?" Cam asks me when we reach the small parking lot outside the UCLA Police Department a few minutes later. His SUV is crammed between two cruisers, a placard in his front windshield identifying him as law enforcement.

"Near the Alumni Center," I mumble, my gaze drifting around the lot before returning to him.

He cocks a brow. "Gonna need more than that, kitten. I didn't go to school here."

"Other side of campus."

"We'll come back for your car later," he decides, strolling toward the passenger door of the SUV. He hits a button on his key and then holds the door open for me. "C'mon. Let's get you out of here."

"I can't leave my car," I say, dragging my feet. If I get in his Rover with him, there's no way I'm going back to my motel room alone like I know I should. How bad is it that, even knowing the risks for him, I don't
want
to go back to my room alone?

I'm so screwed.

"We'll come back for it," he promises with a little, knowing smirk.

I try to think up another objection, but none come to me. When a UCLA officer pulls into the lot, I don't hesitate to hurriedly dive into Cam's Land Rover, my heart thumping hard.

Great. Now I'm scared of the police.

"You're okay," Cam murmurs as I fumble with the seatbelt, my hands shaking. He places one of his over mine, stilling it. "No one is coming to arrest you today, sweetheart."

I nod mutely and relinquish the belt, letting him latch it around me. I want to ask when they're coming to arrest me, but the words won't form. Knowing isn't going to make me feel any better or change my mind about being with Cam. He's relentless, and I'm tired of fighting my attraction to him. Right or wrong, I want him.

Once he's sure the seatbelt is secure around me, he slams my door and jogs around to the driver's side. "You ready?" he asks, slipping on his own belt and then backing out of the space. His gaze rakes across my body, his eyes darkening, and I know he isn't talking about this ride. He's talking about everything else. About me and him.

A little shiver of anticipation works its way through me.

"Yes," I say, my decision already made. It was made the moment he pulled me into his arms the first time, I think.

He drives in silence for several long moments, the hum of the tires on the roadway the only sound in the vehicle. And then he sighs. "What am I going to do with you, kitten?"

"I'm staying a few miles away," I mumble even though I know that's not what he means.

He grunts but doesn't otherwise respond.

I watch out the window as we pass by the reporters camped just outside the campus entrance. None rush the vehicle with cameras and microphones drawn like they do in the movies. Instead, they observe from a respectable distance, no one even making a move in our direction. I still tense, holding my breath until we're safely through the throng and speeding away from campus.

"They're holding a vigil for him tomorrow night," Cam says, slipping his hand into mine.

I turn my gaze to him to find his gray eyes on my face, his expression unreadable.

"Okay," I mumble, not sure what else to say.

"Would you like to go?"

My eyes widen, my mouth popping open. "Um…"

I
do
kind of want to go. I mean, I didn't know him, and there's no way people won't notice me if I show up, but his life and death are invariably tied to my life now, in ways I'm only just beginning to truly understand. He deserves respect. But I'm not so sure showing up at a vigil in his honor and upsetting everyone he knew would help on that front. Unlike his classmates, his family and closest friends have probably seen my picture a hundred times.

"It might help you," Cam murmurs.

"I didn't know him."

"That doesn't mean his death hasn't hurt you."

I can't argue with that. Instead, I sigh, leaning my head back against the headrest. "I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and this will all have been some nightmare, except it isn't. This is my life now. I'm going to be charged with murder."

"Manslaughter."

"As if that makes it any better," I say, a bitter laugh breaking from my lips. "The distinction didn't stop those two girls on campus from reacting like I was the scum of the earth when they noticed me. It's not going to help his friends or family sleep better at night. I haven't even been charged yet, and they've already convicted me in their minds."

"Not everyone thinks you're guilty," he murmurs.

"I thought coming here would help. Maybe I'd find someone who had met this woman and could tell the world that I didn't do this." Instead, I found more sad evidence of the destructive nature of this woman. She played a good kid for months, turning him into someone not even his friends recognized. For the rest of his life, Tommy Wahler will probably regret not pushing Rory to talk. He'll live with that guilt, and it will change him. I know, because it changed me.

"I was supposed to be with my family the day of the accident," I mumble, tracing a pattern on the back of Cam's hand. "We were supposed to go to dinner. Instead, I begged and pleaded until my parents let me go to the movies with a crush. I should have been with them."

"You being there wouldn't have saved them," Cam says, pulling up to a stoplight.

"I know, but had they not dropped me off at his house first, they wouldn't have been on that particular road." I turn to him and swallow hard. "For a long time, I thought it was my fault."

"Do you still?" he asks, watching me intently.

"No," I whisper. "But I did. Tommy will probably feel the same way. Part of him will always wonder if he could have saved his friend. Fake Ivy ruined more than just Rory's life when she told him to jump."

"Jesus," Cam says.

"Unless I found out who she is, she'll get away with it and no one will ever even know."

"I'm not going to let that happen, kitten." He pulls into the parking lot of the Marriott and quickly finds a spot. Shutting the SUV off, he turns to me and places his hand on my cheek, forcing me to look at him again. "I'm not going to let you go down for a crime you didn't commit."

I stare at him for a long, silent moment, trying to understand why he cares so much about what happens to me. Part of me wants to believe it's just because that's the kind of cop he is, but the other part? Well, that part isn't so naïve. He isn't helping me simply because he's a good guy or because he wants to sleep with me. I think…I think, maybe, he means it when he says he wants to get to know me, that he can't stop thinking about me. And that scares the shit out of me and doesn't scare me nearly enough.

"What do you want from me?" I ask him, my voice raw with emotion.

"You," he says simply, running his fingertips over my jaw. "I want you."

I swallow convulsively and nod, letting him know that I want the same thing. And I do. I so do.

Please, don't let me break him
, I pray.

 

 

The walk to his room is silent, filled with expectation. He keeps my hand wrapped in his, my body tucked into his side. We're the only two in the elevator on the way up. He doesn't make a move though, instead standing beside me quietly, seemingly content. My heart hammers, my pulse fluttering in my throat. Nervous energy fills me, making me fidget from foot to foot. I haven't been with anyone in a year. I've
never
been with anyone like Cam.

When we reach his room, he lets me in first and then follows, latching the door behind him. I pace around, studying the room. It's a lot bigger than my motel room, and a lot nicer. The bed is massive and inviting, the comforter a dark gray that almost matches his eyes. A sofa sits in the far corner of the room, with a desk on the opposite wall. His laptop is plugged in on top, the screen black. The full-sized kitchen is narrow, but not cramped. An unopened case of water and a six pack of beer sit on top of the counter.

Cam's scent is all over the room. I close my eyes and breathe it in, letting his sensual smell work through my system. No one has ever smelled better than he does. The scent is addictive, causing heat to unfurl low in my belly.

"C'mere, kitten," he says, tilting his head to look at me when I turn back to face him.

I shake my head, too nervous to move.

Desire flares in his eyes again. He unlatches the holster from his waist and sets it on the counter before pacing toward me. I don't know why, but I back away. He doesn't stop advancing, not until my back hits the wall beside the bed and he's right in front of me, so close I can see the pulse thrumming in his throat.

"Told you not to run from a cop," he says with a little smirk, his gaze smoldering.

"I'm not," I protest.

He cocks a brow at me and runs a fingertip across my bottom lip. "You ran all the way to L.A. to hide from me, kitten."

"I―"

"What are you so afraid of?" he asks quietly, staring at me like he really wants to know…like I'm a mystery he wants to solve. He isn't asking me about the case or about going to jail, but about me and him, and why I ran all the way to Los Angeles to avoid him.

What am I afraid of?

"You," I mouth, unable to force sound with him standing so close we're breathing the same little sliver of air.

"Me?" He stills his hand against my cheek, no longer tracing his finger across my lip.

I nod.

"Why do I scare you?"

"I've been on my own for a long time," I whisper, the truth pouring from my lips too quickly to slow or halt. "And that's never bothered me before, but with you?" I shake my head, still off-balanced by how much he makes me crave something else. Something I haven't had since I buried my mom and sister, and then my father. "You make me feel safe. I want to lean on you, Cam, and I shouldn't want that, not when you could lose everything because of me. I don't want to ruin your life."

"Ah, kitten," he says, stepping closer, crowding me deeper into the wall. He places one hand above my head and tilts my face up to his with the other. His eyes are soft, glowing with sincerity. "Let me worry about me."

"But―"

"Stop."

I snap my mouth closed, battling back the litany of protests running through my mind.

He smiles his approval of my obedience, flashing me that devastating dimple. "I'm a big boy, kitten. I make my own choices and I can take care of myself. I don't need you to protect me. I'm here because I want to be…because you ran here alone, and we both know you did it to hide from me as much as for any other reason."

I confess the truth I've tried to deny even to myself. "I did."

He rewards my honesty with a tender kiss to my forehead, one that has my eyes fluttering closed and my heart thumping hard. "You gotta stop running from me, sweetheart."

I swallow hard, fighting back the instinctive urge to remind him, yet again, of what he's risking. But if he's willing to take that chance, maybe I need to stop being a coward and take it, too. Because this thing between us? I'm pretty sure it's important enough to make that leap and pray we don't both end up broken on the floor.

"Okay," I whisper finally.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I say, my voice a little louder and a little more certain this time. "I want you, too, Cam."

He grins, looking at me as if he just won the lottery. Tenderness and desire mingle in his eyes, making my heart thump hard against my ribcage.

"Do you trust me?" he asks.

I take a breath and nod again.

He leans in like he's going to kiss me, but he doesn't. His lips land against my cheek before sweeping toward my ear. "Put your hands on the wall above your head," he whispers against my skin. "Don't move them until I say so, kitten."

Without hesitation, I slide both arms upward until they're over my head, the fingers of my left hand brushing across the arm he has draped above my head, holding his weight off of me. The position lifts my breasts higher, pushing them outward. The slow exhale of his breath against my ear sends a pleasurable shiver through me, tightening my nipples.

BOOK: All Over You (All Falls Down #3)
9.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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