Love Tap (18 page)

“You wanted to check on me?” I ask, looking up under my lashes.

He smirks, knowing what I’m getting at. “Yeah, I did.”

My cheeks warm and my heart races.

“Visiting hours end soon Tate, come on,” Journey whines from behind me. I want to stay and see what is going on in Camden’s mind, but I really want to see my dad. Feeling conflicted, I shuffle my feet awkwardly.

“You go, I’ll catch you later,” Camden offers, ending my internal battle.

Camden rubs at the back of his neck nervously and walks off.

I exhale a long breath, watching him go. Even from the back he’s good looking.

Striding down the hallway to Dad’s room, I can’t help but replay the way Camden told Scotty I was his.

The hope that we might be together again is trying to take root in my soul again. Maybe tonight was a turning point for us, maybe he forgives me.

Opening the door, I find my dad is bossing nurses around.

“I said I don’t need to be in here goddamn it! I can’t afford to be in here!” Dad rants, trying to pull wires from his chest.

“Dad?” I knock on the door. He stills, dropping the wires on the bed. His eyes pop to mine, and his face lightens from its pinched state.

The nurses reattach the wires to his chest that he obviously just yanked from himself, and Dad rolls his eyes at her.

“Mr. Davis, you have to leave these on, please.” The redheaded nurse pleads for my dad to behave.

“Dad, let her do her job,” I chuckle.

“Journey, do you mind giving me and your sister a minute?” Dad asks. Looking over my shoulder I find her leaning against the door jamb.

“I’ll just wait outside,” Journey informs, stepping out.

Taking a seat in the vinyl chair next to Dad, he rubs at his head in deep thought. It smells like latex and lemon in here.

“You okay? Do you need anything?” I question, trying to fill the awkward silence.

“I’m fine, stop fussing over me. That kid is lucky I didn’t put a beating on him.” Dad shakes his head, referring to Scotty, before looking at me for reinforcement.

“Oh, I know.” I smile, helping build his ego. Truth is, Dad is so out of shape now, I’m not sure he could have taken Scotty. It makes me feel sad, seeing how badly he’s let go of himself after I left. I knew he went downhill, but I didn’t know it was to this extent.

“Look, I am not good at this kind of thing, so I’m just going to say it. I was wrong,” Dad blurts quickly.

“Wrong?” What is he going on about?

He pins me with sad eyes. “I blamed myself for your mother’s death, and I took that out on you. I pushed you to go to school because you look just like her Tate, I couldn’t stand to look at ya kid.” Tears fall from his eyes, and so much emotion balls itself in my chest that I lose it and start crying too. “I know I took more than your will to fight, I took Camden from you. If he can’t forgive you for leaving and see that it was me that willed you to go to LA… then he’s a fool.”

I still, not sure what to say to my dad. Scared if I say anything, he’ll retract his confession.

“Tonight, when that guy hit me, you took care of your old man. I realized right then that you have my blood in you, you’re a fighter through and through. Trying to forbid that was pointless, you can’t take the fight out of a Davis. You made me proud kid.”

I look away as it’s too much. I want to be angry, but I can’t. Mom’s death was hard on all of us. I changed. Everyone did. How could we not, she was the glue that kept us together and without her we fell apart.

A knock sounds at the door grabbing both of our attention.

“Visiting hours are over,” a short man wearing pink scrubs interrupts.

Standing, I wipe the tears from my cheeks, trying to gather myself.

“Put some peas on that eye, it’ll help the swelling,” Dad instructs, as he fidgets with the gadgets on his chest, trying to pull them off. I can see it now, I’m going to get a phone call that he got up and left in the middle of the night.

“Leave those on Dad, they need to monitor your heart,” my voice stern.

“Oh, they don’t know shit about shit,” he grumbles, and I have to bite my inner cheek to keep from laughing.

“I already lost one parent, let’s not make it two because you’re stubborn.” I raise a brow.

Dropping his hands from pulling on the wires, he eyes me heavily.

“You’re just like your damn momma, did I ever tell you that?” he asks, his lips curving into a smile.

“No, but it’s something I’d love to hear more often.”

***

Back at the house I head into my old bedroom. The idea of losing this place hurts. I grew up here and have so many memories of Mom here.

Sighing I plop on my bed looking my room over. With everything that has happened I might stay here, keep a closer eye on Dad. Pulling my phone out I text Chloe to let her know.

Hey, so Dad had a heart attack. -T

What? I’ll leave work now, I’m coming over. -C

He is fine and at the hospital for observation. -T

You sure? -C

It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it later. I’m going to get my things and stay here though, keep an eye on things. -T

Okay, I’ll try and come over tomorrow? -C

Sounds good. -T

Stepping into my room it looks just like I left it. My hands slide against the wall where the paint is faded from an old poster. Glancing around the room my eyes land on the window, Camden’s house is right next door. The way he said I was his won’t stop replaying through my mind over and over again. How he came to check on me, all causing butterflies to swarm in my stomach. Climbing off the bed I head to the window and push the curtains aside. I try to lift the window and it resists, getting caught in the tracks from not being used in years. Wiggling it from side to side, it finally rises and I climb out.

Walking past Camden’s door I head right for his window. When we were kids we used each other’s windows instead of the front door. This way we didn’t have to stop and make idle chit chat with each other’s parents. We could get to one another quicker.

Reaching his window, it’s unlocked, so I push it up. Pulling myself onto the windowsill, the curtains brush against my face. Swiping them out of the way, I come face to face with Camden’s chiseled ass. It’s firm looking, and tanned to perfection. My body temperature rises as warmth spreads across my cheeks.

A peep escapes my mouth as I ogle him. Suddenly he turns, giving me an eyeful of his cock.

“Fuck!” he shouts surprised. He grabs his junk and I look the other way.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” I’m not.

Looking out of the corner of my eye I watch as Camden grabs a pair of shorts from a cardboard box in the corner of the room. His long muscular legs slipping through them with ease.

“Kicking someone’s ass not enough for one night, you want to break and enter?” he smarts.

Pulling myself the rest of the way through, I roll my eyes.

“I wasn’t breaking and entering, I was just…” I don’t know what I was doing.

“I get it, old time’s sake?”

Peering through my hair I glance up at him as he ties the strings on his jersey shorts.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” I mutter, not sure what to say. I fidget with my hands nervously.

His eyes fall to my chest and my insides squeeze. Looking down I realize climbing through the window caused my shirt to pull down, exposing the tops of my breasts.

Quickly, I make right of my shirt, my aching nipples protesting the coverage.

“Don’t say thank you, and stop acting like that.” His brows pinch together as he sits on the bed.

“Like what?”

“Like something you’re not. You’re not shy and sure as hell not some priss so stop acting like it,” he jabs. “Did they teach you how to be a complete fake in LA?” My mouth pops open as anger rushes over me. This went downhill quickly.

“I could say the same about you, you’re so bitter and hateful. You’re not the Camden I remember. Was being so rich and famous that hard for you?” Ever since I laid eyes on him, he’s been hard and cold. Something’s happened since I’ve been away, I just don’t know what. It pains me to know I wasn’t here by his side when it happened either.

He chuckles, looking away as his hands slide through his hair. His eyes slip over to mine and become hooded as they fall to my chest once again.

“You’ve grown since I saw you last.” He changes the subject and my tits react on their own, my nipples hardening from the sudden attention.

“Yeah, you have too.” My eyes fall to his crotch.

He stands and his jersey shorts are tented at the front. It does things to me, he unwinds my sense of control. I bite my lip thinking about untying his pants and letting them fall to his ankles.

My breath catches in my throat as the dirty thoughts parade through my mind. It’s always been so easy around Camden. My attraction for him is so natural it’s unsettling sometimes. My body talks to his in a way I will never understand.

Stepping toward me he lowers his head, his eyes gleaming with primal need. I don’t know how to react to the sudden attention and step backwards until my back presses against the wall. My eyes fluttering as my lips part from my labored breath caused by his nearness.

Camden rests his hands right above my head, his face coming within inches of mine. His breath brushes against my lips seductively. Taking my gaze from his mouth I peer into his hooded ocean eyes.

“I want you,” I whisper, the words coming out on their own, so natural. As if I never left him. I panic, my heart stammering in my chest in anticipation of his reply.

His eyes widen as if he’s shocked to hear my admission. Quickly, he masks his surprise with an arrogant smirk. My stomach sinks knowing whatever he’s going to say next, I’m not going to like.

“After a fight I’m usually in need for a good fucking, Tate. I have a phone full of fuck buddies, should I add your number?”

Without a second thought, my hand collides with his face. Guilt for opening up to him rushes over me like a wave. That anger taking over my lustful state.

He steps back, his cheeks hollowed out with anger.

“I’m not some backup or second choice to your lonely evenings.” I fume. I thought we got somewhere tonight, I thought we finally made a connection. I sigh, pinning him with angry eyes. I was very wrong.

He thumbs his chin as his eyes rake me from top to bottom.

“There’s the Tate I know,” his voice laced with sarcasm and it pisses me off. My heart and mind done with these damn games I slap him again and it ignites something between us. His jaw ticks and in one quick move he grasps me under the thighs, picking me up and slamming my back against the wall.

Out of instinct, I wrap my legs around his waist and my hands around his neck. Feeling him between my legs causes a rush of excitement to surge through me.

God he smells good. I look down at him and he stares back with hooded eyes. His nose holds a more crooked angle than I remember, but it makes him look more distinguished.

He gyrates his hips and the head of his dick rubs against my sex just right. I can’t help the parting of my mouth, and the wave of lust that flashes in my eyes.

He smiles knowingly and does it again. My fingers dig into his strong shoulder blades as he does it again and again. The thin material of my pants and his shorts causes me to feel every ridge of his cock.

Pressure blooms in my lower half, as we both begin to pant. His fingers strangling my hips as he shifts me up and down along his jersey covered shaft grinding me into a pleasure I don’t want to ever fade.

My nails dig into his bare shoulder blades. My body conflicted on what it should be feeling. Hurt, anger, or pleasure.

Impulsively, I circle myself on top of him wanting so much more not caring what is going on in my head as what is going on between my legs is much more important.

He continues to drive his cock against me, and my head bangs against the wall, my toes curling as the intense sensation of pleasure ripples up my legs and fires in-between my thighs.

I clench my eyes shut, and try with all my might to keep my composure. Not wanting to come yet. Especially like this.

He grunts, his hips jerking against mine and with the rugged sound vibrating within his chest, I moan loudly. Hearing him let go intensifies my release.

He slows his thrusts, his fingers releasing my hips slowly. My head is sideways, my gaze locked on the window as his strong hold on me fades. My impulsive sexual need that ran so rampant just seconds ago fleeing, and reality setting in.

We just dry humped like horny teenagers.

Letting my feet hit the floor I brush my hair from my face and risk looking at him.

His face is flushed, and his shorts have a wet stain on the front.

Holy shit.

He turns his head sideways, and rubs the back of his neck nervously.

Still trying to catch my breath, I push myself off the wall and adjust my yoga pants. They’ve ridden up, and they too have some wetness on the crotch area. I’m not sure if it’s from him or me though.