Guided Love (Prick #1) (22 page)

“Yeah, no more sad movies for you, young lady. Get over here and have some food. I got a little of everything.”

I get up and slowly make my way to the table and wrap my arms around him.

“Thank you so much.”

I can feel him nod and kiss the top of my head.

“Anytime, babe.”

We sit and dig into the food that he brought when I hear a bang on the door. I look up and Axel sees the fear on my face. I am so not ready to face Camaron, not yet.

“No worries, Samantha, Carrie asked me where I was going and I didn't think you would mind having her come over. Hope that was okay?”

“Absolutely, thanks, Axel. I really can’t stop thanking you for all you have done for me. I am going to owe you big time.”

“Well, when you write your first novel, I want that one dedicated to me, got it?”

With that, he winks and opens the door. Carrie comes barging into the room and hugs me without saying a word.

“Well, ladies, enjoy your dinner. Samantha, if you want, call me later.” Axel grabs a chicken leg, bends down, and kisses my head.

“You're leaving already?”

I can’t help but have a little ache in my heart knowing he is leaving. Why, I don't know, I just have it.

“Yeah, gorgeous, this is a girl’s night and I am not hanging out with all this estrogen.”

Carrie starts laughing and I do too. It feels good to laugh even if it’s just for a moment.

“Thanks for the chicken, prick,” Carrie yells as Axel is walking out the door.

“Anytime, prick,” Axel yells from outside the hallway.

“Okay, Rice Cake, you need to spill. Why do you look like death? Why are you in a hotel room?” Carrie grabs a biscuit, starts to eat, and looks at me waiting for answers.

“Is that all you want to know?” I laugh and she has her mouth full and she is nodding. “Well, where do I start?”

“You start at the beginning.”

We finish the chicken and all of the sides, the water, and Carrie enjoyed the small bottle of Jack. After telling her everything, not leaving a single detail out, I look at her—she is staring at me with tears in her eyes.

“I am so sorry. I didn't know that you truly love him; I mean, with your soul love him. Sure, I thought you kinda wanted him but damn, Sam, you have given up everything for him and this is how he repays you? I want to beat his ass and Roni! Ugh, I want to punch her in the cunt. Really, I am not kidding.”

I am sitting there laughing at her. Honestly, how could I take her seriously?

“Thank you, Carrie, but don't feel bad. I did this to myself.”

“NO . . . No, you didn't, you thought he felt the same. He gave you the idea that there was a chance. That you were important to him.”

“Stop, it wasn't him. Maybe Gabby was right, I should have seen this awhile back. He was . . . no, he is my friend and I expected more than friendship. It’s on me, I take full responsibility for this.”

“Stop it! You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. If he is a friend to you, IF he is your best friend, he should never allowed her to treat you that way or do what she did to you. He is a selfish bastard! Now that I have cleared that up, what are you going to do?”

I take a drink of my water and ponder on that one.

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

I grab the remote and flip through the channels. My mind isn't with it, I have so much to think about. How will I be able to just go back and live a normal life living with Camaron? What will I say to him? He hasn't reached out since I left; maybe this really isn't bothering him. I look up and see Carrie smiling from ear to ear and I see why, she has
Magic Mike
on the television.

“Stop thinking, Rice Cake, sit back, relax, and watch Tatum Channing shake his beautiful ass. You can figure everything tomorrow.”

Carrie is right, I grab my water, relax, and watch these delicious men shake their asses.

Dear Gabby,

I know you are probably thinking why in the world is Sam emailing me rather than sending me a text or a call. (Well, I hope that is what you are thinking). I am emailing you because I am not able to handle rejection right now and if I call and you hang up or look at my message and don't respond I know I couldn't handle it, not right now.

First off, let me apologize to you. Gabby, I am so sorry for being a horrible friend. I treated you with disrespect and I never should have spoken to you that way. I should have never allowed you to leave when I was moving across the country the next day. I was a horrible friend and I own that. I truly am sorry and I hope that you can forgive me. If you do, I promise that will never happen again.

I also wanted to let you know that, GABBY, YOU WERE RIGHT. The relationship between Camaron and me is complicated and I am so afraid that our friendship may not last a lifetime. I am spiraling down a lonely road and I know I shouldn't expect you to care, but I miss you Gabby. I know it’s a shitty thing to say, especially with how I treated you, but I wish you were here yelling at me to‘suck it up buttercup’ and force me to face this.

I feel so lost, Gabby. I really don't know who I am anymore. Did I ever really know who I was? I have been living for this plan for so long that I don't know what else I have. I have been staying in a hotel the last two days and I need to check out in the morning. I am not sure what I am going to do.

Please, when you find it in your heart to forgive me, to accept my apology, because, again, Gabby, I am so sorry for being rude to you and for saying what I said and for leaving you the way I left it, please call or email me back.

Sincerely, I am sorry

~Sam

I hit send and close my laptop. I feel horrible that I was such a horrible friend. I meant to write my apology letter to Gabby, one that I have wanted to write for months, but got overwhelmed with life. Yet, she was right. She told me that I should come here and find my happiness, find myself, really, but I argued, of course, and thought my happiness fell to one person and that was Camaron. I look at my phone and see I have a new text message from Carrie.

Hope you are feeling better today Rice Cake, but you have to come out of hiding before I kill Barbie.

She has been here all day and I think I may stab her with the letter opener

Carrie is definitely one of a kind. She is such a loyal friend and always is trying to lighten the mood.

Me: Don't kill her, orange isn't really a good color for you.

Carrie: Oh, Rice Cake, fuck u I look good in every color I am blessed that way, now get your ass out of that comfy hotel and join the world don't let them keep you hiding

I crack up at her response. Only Carrie would admit that she looks great in everything she wears, which she does. I think she may be right, I can't allow Roni and Camaron to keep me in hiding. I have to just suck it up. I have to go and face the fire. I gather all of my stuff that Axel was nice enough to bring me and head down to check out.

I walk the few blocks home; the closer I get, the more nervous I feel. I am hoping that none of the pricks see me through the windows as I am passing. I want to get up to the apartment and get settled before I face them. I know they all know something went down. I haven't been working for the last two days and I know Roni is probably running her mouth, as Carrie says she has been there. I am lucky enough to get past the windows and head up to my apartment.

I unlock the door, head in, and want to cry. It’s been two days and the place already looks different. I drop the plastic bag I put all of my items in from the hotel, on the counter and take it all in. The living room is rearranged and there are new neon blue curtains on the windows. The wall with all of the photos I had hanging up, are rearranged. Some of the photos are still there, others are missing. The missing photos are those of Camaron and me. Those are off the wall and have been replaced by pics of Roni and Camaron. I am not in any one of the photos; not even the picture I had of the staff of Two Pricks. When I look closer, I see that whoever put this photo in the frame folded it so I was not included. Wow, it’s been two fucking days and I am out of the picture completely.

I head to my room and find that the photos that are missing from the living room are in there on my bed in a box. There are also several empty boxes scattered across my floor. I hear the door open and close and I can hear Roni and Camaron talking. I am not too sure if they know I am home yet. So quietly, I walk to my door and listen.

“Baby, I want us to have a life together. If she is your best friend she would want that too. Am I wrong? Wouldn't you want her to find happiness?”

I could hear the struggle in his voice, she is obviously oblivious to his tone because she is a bitch.

“Roni, of course I want to have a life with you, baby, but you have to understand Sam and I have been friends for nearly our whole lives. She has always been there for me when I had no one. She has believed in me when everyone else told me I would never make it. I mean, hell, Roni, she gave up her world in California to come here and help me and Axel out with the shop. The sales have increased by 40 percent and we are expanding. We wouldn't have done any of that without Sam. What I am asking you to do is to stop with the bitchiness. Stop being such an asshole to her. Don't be mad, baby, you just have to try for me, okay. If I mean anything to you, you need to try and get along with her.”

I hear her huffing and stomping around.

“That’s fine, Camaron, but she needs to realize that this is now our place. She needs to pay rent to live here or she can get her lazy ass out, do you hear me?”

What the fuck was that? Did she just say that this is their place?

“Roni, enough, I am done talking right now.”

It’s been quiet and I am fuming in my room. I am going to kill him. It’s been two days, two freaking days and the bitch moves in, are you kidding me. I am beyond pissed and I keep taking deep breaths and it’s not doing crap for me. The front door slams closed and I see Camaron walking towards his room and spots me. He comes to my door and shuts it behind him.

“You're home.”

Home . . . does this stranger standing in front of me even know the definition of the word home.

“Yep, I’m here.”

“Sam, can we talk?”

“No, Camaron.”

“Sam, I’m so sorry. I have been sick about hurting you for the last two days. I don't know how to fix this. What do I do? I fucked up, Sam, and I am sorry. It seems like I am just a complete and utter fuck up.”

“Camaron, are you being serious? Are you going to stand there and make this about you? My life has always been about you. In everything. Every aspect of my life revolved around you and what would hopefully make you happy. I just wanted to be accepted. To be the one you would want to build a life with. I forgot who I am, Camaron. I don't think I ever really knew who the hell I was without you. I have done everything I could to try and help you and make you happy and what do I get Camaron? WHAT DO I GET? I get my best friend not caring that I wasn’t home for the last two days. I get a best friend who moves his fucking girlfriend in—the girlfriend who has treated me horrifically; but does that matter? No. No, it doesn't matter how I feel about that. You know why it doesn't matter? Because I don’t fucking matter! I don't matter to you at all.”

I turn my back on him, I can’t even look at him. Camaron is up against me his mouth next to my ear. He puts his arms around my waist, locks his hands together, and brings me closer to him.

“Sam, you do matter. I don't know what to do to prove that to you. What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I’ll do it, just tell me what you want from me.”

I try to pull away but there is no way I am going anywhere. He has me locked against him and my head is telling me to just leave, to build the wall and protect myself when my body is telling me something completely different. I feel his breath against my ear and his strong grip around my waist. I feel his bulge against my back and I want him.

“I don't want anything from you, Camaron; all I ever wanted was you. Just you.”

“You have me, Sam, it’s always been you and me.”      

“Camaron, stop. I never had you and I never will.”

He feels me trying to pull away, again; I am trying to walk away so that he doesn't see my heart breaking. I can only take so much, but he isn’t having it he is not letting go.

“Not so fast, beautiful. We are going to fix us, no running away.”

He turns me so now I am facing him. His arms are now holding my shoulders.

“What can I do, Sam? Tell me whatever it is, I’ll do it to fix us.”

I wish he didn’t turn me around, because now I am looking into his gorgeous eyes and I am feeling my wall crumble.