Read My Sweetest Escape Online
Authors: Chelsea M. Cameron
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General
across it.”
“Well, maybe some people were waiting
for some other people’s birthday to do
that,” Hunter said, not looking up from his
book. He and Dusty had their heads
together over the same book.
“Whatever,” she said, going grumpily
back to her book.
“I have a point and you know it.”
“Yes, baby. Whatever you say, baby.”
Taylor balled up a piece of paper and
chucked it at him.
I was busy typing out a response to Brett
while Hannah read for Pam’s class. I was
honest in saying that I had no journalistic
experience, but said I was eager to learn. I
sent it off, and my email pinged only five
minutes later with a response.
Brett was thrilled and wanted me to
come in for an official interview at some
point in the next few days. He told me to
pick up a copy of the
AP Stylebook
at the
library, as well.
I had no idea what that was, but I’d
figure it out. I typed back a quick response
telling him when I was free and he wrote
back a few seconds later saying he’d see me
at four on Friday at the office in the Union.
I’d walked by it enough times, so I knew
where it was. Now all I had to do was panic
about it until then.
My only other mission that night was to
get Dusty alone so I could ask him about the
night before, but doing that was going to be
tricky with a houseful of people watching.
If I asked to talk to him, that would look
crazy suspicious, so I’d just have to wait for
a good opportunity.
I seized one when he got up to grab a
soda from the fridge.
Pretending I needed more tea—which I
actually did—I followed him into the
kitchen.
“So, you proposed to the coffeepot
yet?” I said, filling my mug up and putting it
in the microwave. He came and stood right
behind me. Clearly, he had never learned
anything about personal space.
“Shh, I’m planning to do it in an
elaborate viral video. I’m still trying to find
some backup singers and dancers, and I’m
waiting on a hot air balloon, so don’t say
anything.” He put his fingers to his lips and
pointed at the coffeepot. “I want it to be a
surprise.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I said as I
took my cup out of the microwave and put
the tea bag in. “So, sorry about last night
and you getting wrapped up in the drama.”
“It’s no big deal. I just wanted to make
sure nobody broke out a chair or called the
cops or anything.”
“Is that how it was in your house?” He’d
never really talked about growing up,
except for vague statements that, reading
between the lines, led me to believe it
hadn’t been great.
“Sometimes.” I nearly collapsed in shock
at the honesty in his answer. “But that’s
ancient history.” He cracked his soda open
and looked at me as if he was waiting for
something. I was completely distracted
from my original plan to ask what he’d been
about to say last night. This was much more
interesting.
“My mom’s been married four times.
My dad three. I have so many half and
stepsiblings I can’t name them all when
people ask,” I said, stirring my tea. I didn’t
know how much Renee or anyone else had
told him about our situation, but he didn’t
look surprised.
“I’ve lost count how many houses I’ve
lived in, and I’ve had to switch schools a
bunch of times,” I continued. He just stayed
silent, so I kept talking, like he was
somehow pulling the words out of me.
Stupid mesmerizing eyes. I expected him to
share something about his own childhood,
but he didn’t.
“That must have been rough.” He came
and leaned his back on the counter next to
me. There it was again, that smell of clean
laundry with just a hint of cologne.
“It was. Remember when you said I had
this ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe?”
He smiled. “How I could I forget? I
remember everything you say.” Hold up.
He, what?
I looked at him, questioning.
He raised his hand and dragged a piece
of my hair through his fingers and sighed.
“You don’t make things easy, Red.”
“I don’t make what easy?” Sometimes I
felt like he was talking in code and I needed
a translator. It would be a hell of a lot easier
if he would just talk in a way that I could
understand.
“Why do you do that? I feel like you’re
always talking about something I don’t
know about.” He dropped his hand and
looked down and let out a breath.
“Nothing. I didn’t mean anything.”
“No, I want you to tell me what you
meant, and I want to know how you would
have responded last night when Renee
asked you how you would protect me
before I crashed into the door and
interrupted.” Screw it, they probably all
knew I was listening.
He stepped away from me, but I
grabbed his shirt to make him stop. Jesus,
he was cut under there.
Not the point, Jos.
“Jos, come on. I didn’t mean anything by
it.”
“Why are you lying to me?” It was hard
to keep my voice down so everyone in the
living room didn’t hear. I didn’t want to
make a scene.
“I’m not lying to you, Jos.” He tried to
pull away, but I grabbed his shirt with my
other hand. Either I overestimated my
strength, or he added some force and
ended up slamming up against the counter
and he crashed into me, trapping my arms
between us. It didn’t hurt; I was shocked
more than anything else.
“What the hell!” I said, finding his face
only inches from mine. He exhaled and all I
could think was that he was going to kiss
me and how much my lips were begging
him to. No, no way. I pushed against his
chest and it was like something in him
snapped and he leaped away from me like I
was a leper.
He wiped his mouth as if he had kissed
me and his face was horrified.
“What just happened?” I said, using the
counter to hold myself up. Dusty let out a
sound that was a bit like an explosion and,
somehow, very apropos.
“I’m going to take my soda and go back
to homework.
Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do.”
Without looking back at me, he grabbed his
Coke and practically ran back to the living
room, where I heard him talking with
Hunter.
I picked up my tea with a shaking hand
and sipped it, because I didn’t think I could
go back to the living room right now. I
stayed in the kitchen and savored my tea.
And by savored I mean I drank about three
drops with every sip so it would last. It was
only a matter of time before someone
disturbed me trying to get myself together
and it turned out to be Hunter.
“What are you doing?”
“Just…thinking.” If anyone asked, I was
going to say I was lost in thought
about…something. I’d been too busy
replaying the moment with Dusty to think
of a more valid excuse.
“It looks painful. Whatever you’re
thinking about.” He grabbed a bottle of
Gatorade and a can of cranberry-lime
seltzer water for Taylor. Oh, it had been
anything but painful, unless you counted a
cannon of butterflies being fired repeatedly
inside my stomach and feeling like every
nerve ending in my body was on fire as
painful.
“Just got a lot…on my mind.” He looked
at me like I’d grown an extra head.
“Okay, then. You coming back to study?”
Well, I had to, didn’t I? Or else they would
know something was wrong and then
they’d all vote on who would be the one to
come and talk to me about it. I’d figured out
their system.
“Be right there.” I downed the rest of
my tea in one gulp.
It didn’t feel as badass as I’d imagined it
would. I set my cup in the sink and walked
back into the living room and took my place
on the floor next to Hannah. She gave me a
questioning look, but I shook my head and
picked up my phone.
Tel you later.
I typed out the message and hit Send,
hoping that her text alert wasn’t too loud.
She usually had her phone off during the
day when we were at class, so I couldn’t
remember if I’d ever heard it go off.
When I heard what sounded like a
Chinese gong at an insanely loud volume, I
nearly choked on my heart, because it had
jumped into my mouth. Exclamations of
surprise, some more colorful than others,
came from everyone else.
“Sorry! Sorry! The volume on this phone
is all wonky. I’ll just turn it off.” She read my
message and typed out a quick response
and then turned her phone off as everyone
tried to focus back in on what they were
doing.
Make it good.
I shook my head at her answer and she
started wiggling her eyebrows again and I
debated about telling her at all, but she was
really the only one I had to talk to.
Hannah made some vague excuse about
accidentally leaving her earrings that she’d
bought at the mall in one of my bags, so we
had to go back down to my room and
“search” for them. As soon as she shut the
door to the upstairs, she turned on me.
“Oh, my God, I’ve been dying up there! I
could barely concentrate. Did he kiss you?
Was it good? Did he cop a feel? Did you do
it in the kitchen?”
I had to put both hands on her shoulders
to stop her from continuing. Where did she
get these ideas?
“No, no, no and NO. Do you seriously
think we would be able to have sex in the
kitchen without someone either hearing or
walking in? And do you really think I’m that
kind of girl? Seriously?”
She thought about that for a second.
“Well, no, but I had hope.”
I let go of her shoulders and walked
down the rest of the stairs and sat on the
huge couch.
“Sometimes I wonder how your mind
works and then I ealize that I really don’t
want to know.” She dragged her feet and
sat down next to me.
“So what did happen?”
I pulled my legs up and folded them
under me.
“That’s what I’m still trying to figure out.
We were talking and then he said
something about his childhood being rough
and then he touched my hair—”
“That means he loves you,” Hannah
said, nodding as if it was a scientific fact.
“How do you know that?”
She waved her hand.
“It’s been proven, like, over and over
again. So yeah, he touched your hair and…”
I got back on track. “He touched my hair
and we were talking and then I said
something and he tried to brush me aside,
so I grabbed his shirt and he just…he dived
at me and pushed me against the counter
and I thought he was going to kiss me and
then he freaked out and went back into the
living room. The end.” Hannah’s eyes were
wide, and she’d hung on every word as if I
was sharing some naughty secret tryst
rather than…well, pretty much nothing. It
sounded, like, so minor when I said it out
loud. It had felt anything but minor at the
time.
“How many times do I have to tell you
that he wants you? Dude, it sucks that we
were all here or else you two might be
mopping the kitchen floor together right
now.” I hadn’t yet told Hannah about my
still-present virginity, but this didn’t seem
like a good time to bring it up, even though
she’d all but admitted to me that she was,
too. The way she talked led me to believe
that she’d at least done more than I had,
even if she hadn’t done the deed.
“I’m not going to dignify that with a
response. So have you ‘found your earrings’
yet?” I got up to get ready for bed. I was
tired and I had a lot to think about in the
hours it would take me to actually fall
asleep.
Hannah pouted but got up.