Chapter 13: She Wants Him
1074 Words
Chapter 13
The night blurred into something louder, warmer, wilder.
Music pounded through the floor, lights flashing across faces that were already flushed from laughter and drinks. Camille could feel it now—the alcohol settling into her system, loosening every careful part of her.
And Cameron—
he was still right there.
Steady.
Watching her.
Trying to keep control of a situation that was quickly slipping out of his hands.
Camille turned toward him, a playful smile forming.
“You’re too serious,” she teased, stepping closer.
“I’m not serious,” he said, though his voice had dropped lower now.
“You are,” she insisted, poking his chest lightly. “You’ve been holding back all night.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“You don’t know that,” he replied.
Camille tilted her head, eyes glimmering with mischief.
“I think I do.”
Before he could respond—
she leaned in.
And kissed him.
It wasn’t planned.
It wasn’t careful.
It was impulsive.
Soft—but bold enough to steal the air between them.
For a second—
Cameron froze.
Not because he didn’t want it.
But because he did.
Too much.
His hands instinctively moved to her arms, steadying her, grounding both of them as the world around them continued like nothing had happened.
But people did notice.
A few glances.
A few whispers.
And that was enough.
Cameron pulled back first, his expression shifting immediately.
Not angry.
Protective.
“Come on,” he said quietly, guiding her away from the crowd.
Camille frowned slightly. “Why are we leaving?”
“Because this isn’t for them to watch,” he said firmly.
He led her through the side of the club, away from the noise, into a quieter hallway where the music dulled into a distant pulse.
The air felt different there.
Still charged—but private.
Camille leaned back against the wall, looking at him with a soft, hazy gaze.
“You didn’t like that?” she asked.
Cameron stepped closer—but not too close.
“Don’t do that out there,” he said.
“Why?” she challenged lightly.
His eyes darkened slightly.
“Because not everyone deserves to see you like that.”
Her heart skipped.
Even through the haze.
She smiled faintly. “You’re very controlling.”
“I’m trying not to be,” he admitted.
That honesty made her chest tighten.
Camille reached for his shirt lightly, fingers brushing the fabric.
“I want you,” she said, quieter now.
The words hung in the space between them.
Dangerous.
Real.
Cameron exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to reset himself.
“Camille…” he said, voice strained.
She stepped closer again, closing the distance he had been trying to keep.
“I mean it,” she said. “I don’t act like this… with anyone.”
He knew that.
That was the problem.
That was exactly why he had to be careful.
His hands moved to her waist again—but this time, there was hesitation in the way he held her.
Not pulling her closer.
Holding her steady.
“You’ve had a few drinks,” he said quietly. “You don’t get to decide things like this right now.”
She frowned slightly. “I know what I want.”
“I know,” he said.
And that almost broke him.
Because he wanted the same thing.
But not like this.
Not when she wasn’t fully steady.
Not when tomorrow might feel different.
He shook his head slightly. “You’re going to hate me tomorrow if I let this go too far.”
Camille looked at him, softer now.
“I won’t.”
He gave a small, almost painful smile. “You might.”
A beat of silence passed.
Then he gently took her hand.
“Let’s go,” he said.
⸻
Back on the dance floor, Rachel and Jasmine were nowhere near them anymore.
Jasmine was laughing with someone, clearly enjoying herself—maybe a little too much.
Camille noticed, but didn’t comment.
Tonight wasn’t about them.
Not really.
Cameron leaned closer to Camille. “I’m taking you home.”
She didn’t argue.
She just nodded.
⸻
The ride was quieter.
The energy from the club still lingered—but softer now.
Camille leaned her head slightly against the window, then eventually against his shoulder when they stopped at a light.
He didn’t move.
Just let her.
⸻
When they reached her apartment, Cameron helped her out carefully.
“Easy,” he said, steadying her as she walked.
“I’m fine,” she murmured.
“You’re not,” he replied gently.
Inside, the apartment felt calm again.
Too calm after everything.
Camille turned to him once the door closed.
For a moment, they just stood there.
Looking at each other.
Then—
she smiled.
That same teasing, dangerous smile from earlier.
“You’re still holding back,” she said softly.
Cameron exhaled slowly.
“Camille…”
But she stepped closer again.
And this time—
he didn’t step back.
Her hands rested lightly against his chest.
His hands hovered at her waist—
like he was giving himself one last chance to stop.
She didn’t give him that chance.
She leaned in again.
And kissed him.
This time—
he kissed her back.
Not rushed.
Not careless.
But deeper.
Real.
The kind of kiss that had been building all night.
His hand moved slightly at her waist, pulling her just a little closer—but still controlled, still measured, like he was holding a line even while crossing it.
When they finally pulled apart, his forehead rested lightly against hers.
Both of them breathing a little heavier now.
“See?” she whispered. “You wanted that.”
He let out a quiet breath.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
A pause.
Then—
“But that’s where I stop.”
Camille blinked. “What?”
He smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
“You’re going to bed,” he said softly. “And I’m going home.”
She stared at him, somewhere between frustration and admiration.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m trying to be decent,” he said.
She studied him for a moment.
Then smiled.
Soft.
Real.
“Stay… tomorrow,” she said quietly.
Cameron nodded.
“Tomorrow,” he agreed.
And this time—
he meant it.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD