Control You (27 page)

“So?” Cameron raised an eyebrow as he dragged the word out.

I bit the inside of my cheek, and then crinkled my nose at him. “I don’t know. Honestly, I think it might seem a little weird.”

“Are you trying to say you aren’t comfortable around me?”

My heart dropped to my stomach at his low tone. “No. Not at all. I’m just saying I don’t think I want you zeroing in on me. You’ll notice all my facial imperfections, and then not want to look at me anymore.” I laughed, hoping it would disguise the truth to my words.

“First off, what about my question led you to believe I wanted to paint only your face?” A playful gleam flickered through his eyes. “Second, there is nothing on your entire body that I would deem to be an imperfection, I’m sure.” His eyes heated and I felt a tremor slip through me from the sight.

I started to say something, but then the words to the song playing in the background floated to my ears and it was all I could do not to burst out laughing. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip to keep the laugh at bay, but once I heard the chorus I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’m sorry; your words are totally going with this song right now.”

I watched him as he strained to hear the song playing through the crowded place and nearly died with laughter the moment he realized what it was—
Your Body Is a Wonderland
by John Mayer.

“I don’t know if I would call that good timing or completely shitty,” he choked out between laughs.

“I don’t know,” I agreed, his laughter infusing mine.

Our waitress came with our food, and we lapsed into an easy conversation about our music likes and dislikes while we ate. After we paid for our food and headed to the doors, my stomach churned with nerves.

Cameron lit a cigarette as we exited The Point, and leaned against the wall. I stepped beside him, being sure I was downwind from his smoke. I didn’t mind a guy who smoked, but I didn’t want to be suffocated by the stench either. Folding my arms across my chest, I glanced up at the sky.

“Look at those stars.” A gentle breeze blew, sending strands of my hair into my face, and I tucked them back my ear. “Sometimes I forget how beautiful they are.”

He tipped his head back and looked up. “Yeah, that and how small we really are.”

His words seemed sad and resonated with me, making me view the tiny speckles in the sky in a whole new way. A car pulled up two parking spaces over, and a group of people close to our age stepped out. They were all laughing and engrossed in conversation. When they stepped through the door, their laughter mingled with the music and chattering from inside. As soon as the glass door closed behind them, Cameron and I were sealed off in that same heavy silence that had been pressing on me since we’d stepped outside. I bit my bottom lip and chipped my nail polish off my thumb. Anxiety was building inside me, but only because I wasn’t ready for this night with him to end. I worried the next words out his mouth would be something along the lines of “I had a good time,” and then he’d take me home.

My mind flipped through different things we could do that would allow me to spend more time with him, to get to know him more, before he said that dreaded sentence. I just couldn’t think of anything. A movie was ruled out, because I wanted to be able to talk with him. I couldn’t do that there. It was too cold to ask to go for ice cream. I didn’t want to go to Enticing Aroma for coffee, because I’d quit there recently to open up my shop.

“Since you won’t let me paint you, and I doubt you’d want to go back to my place and hang out, do you bowl?” He snuffed out his cigarette and placed it in the ashtray beside the door.

Adrenaline rushed through my system as a wide grin sprang to my face. He didn’t want to call it a night yet either. Yes! “I’ve only been a few times, but sure, we could go bowling.”

“Cool.” He started toward his car with a relieved look etched into the contours of his face.

* * * *

Norhurst Lanes was not a place I frequented. In fact, I’d only ever been bowling twice in my entire life—the last time being when I was ten and had gone to Shea Vanhook’s birthday party. Walking across the eerily lit parking lot, I realized there were more cars here than I’d thought there would be on a Saturday night. A group of people stood off to the side, smoking cigarettes and talking. A few of them held clear plastic cups in their hands, filled with what I assumed to be alcohol. Relief trickled through me; at least I could have another drink and drown the nervous butterflies in my stomach a little more.

Cameron opened the door for me and I stepped inside. My nose was instantly assaulted by the stench of burnt nacho cheese and musty old shoes, while my eyes didn’t know where to look first due to the crazy patterned carpet beneath my feet that also reached halfway up the walls.

“Wow, this place is festive,” I muttered.

Cameron chuckled beside me. “Not the word I would go with to describe it.”

We walked to the tall desk centered in front of us. A guy sitting in a cushy desk chair glared at us. He was picking something from his teeth with a toothpick and had one of the worst comb-overs I’d ever seen.

“We’d like to bowl,” Cameron said. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and waited on the guy to say a price.

“How many people?” the guy asked with an uninterested expression as he continued to scratch away between his teeth.

I glanced behind us, making sure we were the only people in line, and drew my brows together when I realized we were.

“Two,” Cameron bit out.

“Do you have socks?” the man asked.

“I believe so,” Cameron answered.

The man leaned his elbows against the desk and locked eyes with Cameron. “That’s not an answer. It was a simple yes or no question.”

I watched as Cameron cocked his head to the side and smirked at the man, anxious to see how he would respond. “Yes, we have socks. How much for a lane and two pairs of shoes?”

The guy messed with the computer screen for a minute. “Nine fifty.”

After Cameron paid and we told the man our shoe sizes, we found our lane and began the search for a ball that wasn’t too heavy for me to lift. The lightest one we found—after nearly ten solid minutes of looking—was a seven pounder. It was bright pink, but still a little on the heavy side for me. God, I was going to hate this.

“You wanna go first?” Cameron sat at the push button computer placed in our little area.

“Sure, why not.” I pursed my lips together and inhaled deeply as I sat in one of the chairs and tugged on the hideous clown shoes. “But, I’m just warning you up front that I suck at this game.”

He shrugged and pressed a few buttons. “I’m not the best either. It’s been years since I’ve played.”

After he entered in our names, I stuck my fingers in the holes and walked up to the beginning of the wax-covered lane. My palms were sweaty, and I swore I could feel Cameron’s eyes glued to my ass. Someone beside me scored a strike, and his or her entire group erupted with cheers. Pulling my arm back, I drew it forward, kicked my left leg out sideways, and released the ball. It sailed down the lane at a speed far faster than what I’d anticipated, but was only able to clip the two pins on the side before heading straight for the gutter. My second attempt wasn’t much better. I gained one more pin, and then the ball slipped right through the area I’d cleared out for its easy escape with the previous shot.

Turning, I stalked back to my chair with a smile on my face. “I told you I sucked at this game.”

Cameron was still sitting at the computer, his arms crossed, smiling at me. “No, you did good.” He chuckled.

“Then why are you laughing?” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ears and sat on my hands. This was not how I wanted the rest of our date to go—me making myself look like an idiot.

He leaned forward, his eyes flashing with amusement. “What was with the little kick to the side?”

“How else am I supposed to keep my balance when chucking that heavy ball down the lane?”

“You use your core.” He reached out and touched my lower stomach. Tingles sliced through me, shocking my heart and awakening every nerve in my body. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”

The amount of confidence in his voice was nothing compared to the amount put behind his swagger as he sauntered to grab his ball. My eyes grazed over him as he walked to the beginning of the lane, taking in his sexy stride and the way his back muscles seemed to twist and flex with each movement.

“Are you watching?” He glanced over his shoulder to look at me. His eyebrow arched and a crooked grin formed on his face when he saw that I had been watching him. “Good.”

I cleared my throat and dropped my eyes to the shiny, waxed flooring at his feet for a second, before lifting them to watch him once more. This time, though, I attempted to focus more on his stance and bowling ability than the way his jeans gripped his cute ass and his tight shirt squeezed at his muscles.

Cameron glanced back at me once more before he spread his legs wide and flung the ball between them. It rocketed down the lane and nailed every single pin, earning him a strike.

“Oh my God! That was insane!” I gasped.

“Nothing to it.” He walked back to me, brushing his hands off on one another.

I narrowed my eyes at him and smiled. “Show-off. I thought you were supposed to show me how to use my core.”

“I am. Grab your ball.” He leaned against the computer and smirked at me.

Rubbing my hands down my pant legs, I retrieved my ball and started to the lane. Cameron followed behind me, causing an uncomfortable dry sensation to build in the back of my throat. I tucked my elbows in at my sides, placed my feet together, and held my ball with both hands.

“The trick is in the arm flow. You can’t hesitate in your motion. Some people do so without realizing, because they are worried they might smack the ball into the back of their knee.” One of his hands gripped my left hip while the other touched my elbow. I licked at my bottom lip, fighting the moan that had built at the base of my throat from his nearness. “Then you need to focus on your step. When you lunge forward, you also need to bend your knees. Follow this motion.” He moved my arm back and pressed on my hip so that I would dip at the right time.

“Like that?” My voice was soft as my nerve endings continued to short out and tingle.

“Exactly.” His warm breath grazed against my ear, and I prayed he’d press his lips there for a moment, maybe even take a little nibble. “Now you try it alone.”

I felt it the second he stepped away from me, taking all of his warmth and sexy guy-smell with him. Doing as Cameron had instructed, I launched the ball down the center of the lane and managed to wipe out nearly half of the pins.

“Not a strike, but still pretty good if I do say so myself.” I smiled and turned back around to wait for my ball.

“Oh yes.” His voice was low when he spoke, as though we were talking about two separate things.

My cheeks warmed, and I watched the machine as it spit out my ball. Hurrying, I lined up my body like the previous time and watched as the ball spiraled down the lane, taking down three more pins.

“You’re a really good teacher,” I said as I walked back toward my seat, grinning from ear to ear.

An impish grin twisted his lips as he walked past me, brushing his body against mine, to retrieve his ball. “Just imagine all the
other
things I could teach you.”

CAMERON

The words had tumbled out of my mouth before I had time to think them through. The look dancing in Paige’s eyes reminded me of the first night I’d met her. It was the same sense of innocence that instantly made me want to look away from her every time another dirty thought clouded my mind. I chewed at the inside of my cheek as I struggled to regain my focus and push all the things I wanted to be doing with her—all the things I wanted to be teaching her—out of my mind.

My ball launched down the lane at top speed, but veered to the side at the last second, causing me to miss three pins. My mind was so far from this game right now that my dad would be pissed at me if he were here. Bowling had been our thing. We’d been on a father/son team for a few years. The year of my fifteenth birthday, I told him I wasn’t into it anymore and dove heavily into my art instead. If I had known that would have been the last year I would ever have the chance to bowl with him, I would have taken it and cherished every fucking second.

Reflection can be a bitch sometimes.

“Ha-ha, looks like the master isn’t perfect all the time either,” Paige teased from where she sat.

“Oh yeah?” I arched an eyebrow and grinned at her. “Watch this move.” When I released the ball, it went barreling down the lane and barely tipped all three of the pins left, but it knocked them down in one swift motion, granting me a spare.

“Like I said, you’re a show-off.” She stood and made her way to where her ball rested.

I went around to the side she was walking to with the intention of brushing up against her in passing once more, but she froze the second our bodies touched in the narrow space. There was a look of yearning reflected in the rich brown of her eyes. My hands landed on her hips, gripping them as though I were forcing her to remain where she stood. Who knew, maybe a part of me was. Her breath hitched, same as mine, at the contact, and she leaned into me a little more. I’d been waiting for this moment all night—the moment when I’d finally be able to taste her sweet lips again.

Swallowing hard, I licked my lips and brought my hands up to run along her arms. Our eyes locked, and I could see the desire pooling in the depths of hers, darkening their shade and dilating her pupils. My hands dipped back down to rest on her hips. I slipped my thumbs up underneath the edge of her sweater and rubbed at her soft skin. Leaning in, I brushed my lips against hers, unable to control myself any longer, and heard a little sigh of relief escape her that was nearly my undoing right there in the center of Norhurst Lanes.

“Okay, so, I don’t know what surprises me more right now…the fact that Cameron Green is standing inside a bowling alley or this horrendous display of PDA he’s taking part in,” a voice I’d recognize anywhere chimed from behind me.