Blood Debt (Touched Series Book 1) Page 12

  “Why didn’t your mom tell you, I mean, before. . .” I stopped in mid-sentence when I saw Camille was still sensitive about her mother’s death. Her eyes clouded right there in front of me, and she pursed her lips together. I’d struck a chord I didn’t mean to and wanted to comfort her. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not always such a head case. I just miss her.” Camille was in so much pain. I tried to reason that if I only had a single parent and lost her, then was tossed into all the complexities of our society, I didn’t think I would handle it as well as she was handling it.

  In a happier voice, Camille said, “Let me try to read your mind.”

  “Uh, no. That’s okay. I keep mine blocked all the time.” Panic swept me. I was able to keep my mind blocked, but I worried about my defenses if I got too close to her. I couldn’t let her know how she’d affected me, or how much I wanted her.

  Camille laughed, “Even better, so I can practice without worry of seeing some gross guy stuff.”

  I froze, “Uh, Camille, I don’t think that’s such a great idea.” She ignored me and looked into my eyes; mine refused to look away. I blocked my thoughts with more force than I’d ever used in my life.

  She looked a little frustrated with herself, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Camille confessed, “Huh, nothing. Let me try this.” She swung her legs over the side of the deck chair so we were seated facing each other. Camille put her hands on either side of my temples; our lips were mere inches apart. I heard the splashing of the waves, a seagull echoing a warning overhead, and breeze whipping the flag at the ship’s stern. I continued blocking my thoughts, refusing to let my wall crumble.

  Camille repositioned her hands from my temples, sliding them down, cradling my face in her palms. Her gentle touch threw me off guard. In that moment I didn’t care if she read every thought in my head. My mind’s wall disintegrated in front of both of us. Her eyes widened when she saw a glimpse of my desire for her. I knew I could control my impulses no matter how strong they were to take her in my arms and hold her body to mine. I had just filled her mind with images of the two of us, where I wanted to be and what I wanted to be doing with her: walking in a tall meadow, the sun bearing down; on a snowcapped mountain, the only heat from our intertwined bodies; swimming in the crystal clear waters of the Caribbean near a deserted alcove. I savored each of these fantasies and shamelessly shared them with her, each more erotic than the previous.

  What I wasn’t expecting was her reaction to what was going through my mind. I expected her to slap me, to leap away and scream, to call me hundreds of names that I deserved – I never expected that her mouth would close the gap with mine in an instant.

  Her eyes closed, and I felt her soft lips press hard on to mine. My arms did the unthinkable and pulled her seated body off her deck chair and fully onto me. My veins, that last night felt like ice was coursing through them when I saw her, now had molten lava pumping through my body, and I had no recourse but to melt into her. Nothing else in the world mattered beyond the feel of her skin against me, the heat that generated between us, and her mouth on mine. We sat wrapped in each other for a short time before we both came to our senses and released.

  As I felt her body go tense, I sputtered out, “I’m so sorry, Camille, I didn’t mean for. . .I’m so sorry.”

  She shook her head, “I wasn’t expecting . . . the images.” I could see the turmoil on her face. “Drake,” she realized she was still wrapped around me and stood up, distancing herself from me, “we can’t.”

  With a heavy heart, threatening to slowly break in this moment, “I know.” I hung my head, unable to look into her brown eyes.

  “I mean, we can’t let that happen again, ever.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re engaged to Bianca.”

  “I know.”

  “If she ever finds out. . .”

  I looked up, purposely not making contact with her eyes, “She won’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Camille took the towel off of her deck chair, wrapped herself up in it and sat down. I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a longing for Camille. The towel could have been made of kryptonite, and it wouldn’t have diminished my hunger. She stammered, “I should apologize to you. You told me not to try . . . you know . . . to read your mind.” Her face flushed a deep crimson, and I wondered if she had been reacting to my desire or if she had a yearning of her own.

  I knelt down beside her and rested my head on her knees, “I’m an idiot. I knew I shouldn’t have come.” She didn’t make a sound, and I didn’t have the courage to look at her. “I swear I didn’t plan this.”

  I felt Camille’s fingers running through my hair. Her words were quiet, “I think we should steer clear of each other.”

  “Yeah,” I wrapped my arms around her shins, still not able to let go, “I promise, Camille, I’ll never do something like that again. I’ll take it to the grave.”

  “Is Bianca going to, you know – know?”

  “Only if you think about it. Do you know how to block your thoughts?” She shook her head that she didn’t. Dammit! No matter how strongly I felt for Camille -I couldn’t risk my family’s blood line. Camille looked horrified; hopefully her fear of being exposed would keep us both safe. Being this close to her was wrong, I had to let her go. I forced a smile, hoping she couldn’t see through it to the emptiness I felt as I moved away from her. I said, “Just don’t think about the kiss. If your mind starts to wander, think about a movie or something.”

  “Okay - think about something else, got it. Gretchen told me only the women Centaurs could read thoughts. You can’t read my mind, right?”

  I couldn’t help but smirk at her, “Technically, you should only be able to read the thoughts I’m not protecting. You caught me a little off guard when you touched me.”

  “Obviously,” she answered.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at her. I was mortified with my actions, and I knew she shared the same guilt. I could see it. I decided to change the subject before we had any kind of relapse, “I know this is all new to you. Did you find someone you liked last night?” She gave me the strangest look, and I felt the heat rising up again within me. “I mean at Bruce’s wedding, you met a bunch of Centaur men. Any of them contenders? You seemed to have hit it off with Gus.”

  “Ha, that’s the one good thing I have to look forward to. I don’t have to choose anyone for five years.”

  Her statement surprised me, and I looked up at her, “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a really long story, but I’m not going to choose anyone until I’m twenty-seven.”

  “Your father’s okay with that?”

  “Sure, why wouldn’t he be?”

  “I’ve just never heard of a Centauride waiting so long.”

  “Good things come to those who wait.”

  I nodded. I was a lucky man to be chosen by Bianca. I’d find a way to keep Camille out of my thoughts, too. I took Camille’s hand, telling myself to savor the few more seconds I had with her before this fantasy was over and my reality kicked back in. “Let’s go find Brent and Bianca.”

  As we walked toward the doorway to go to the lower deck, a large wave rocked the boat hard and Camille fell into me. Steadying her, my arms found her one more time. When I didn’t let go, I thought she’d chastise me, but she pulled me into the wall just to the left of the double doors, so no one could see us through the glass. I didn’t release her, I couldn’t. I could feel my hands shaking. She belonged in them.

  Her eyes were wide, her voice accusatory, “Never again, right?”

  I couldn’t deny the lust I felt for her. My hands refused to release her. My body leaned into hers as I whispered, “Not after this one.” This time, it was I who closed the distance between us. I knew it was wrong. I knew if we were caught, we’d be screwed, and the shame we’d bring
on our families would be unbearable, but I lost myself in Camille anyway. All the things I knew I should care about didn’t matter when she was in my arms. I told myself this would absolutely be the last time my arms were able to hold her, and I wanted to drink her in, to consume her, to cherish this memory for the rest of eternity. I didn’t hold back. In that moment, I shared every ravenous thought of her. When my eyes opened, I looked down into hers. I could see how she felt. She was torn exactly the same way I was. Our time was over. I confessed, “We always want what is exactly out of our reach.”

  I let her go and walked through the double doors. I found Brent and Bianca playing Xbox just as they had intended. It was an adventure game where they were jumping, ducking, leaning and - a bi-product of all the activity – laughing. The lightheartedness in the state room was a far cry from the heartbreak up on the deck. Camille never did come in to watch the video games. I was thankful for the separation. I knew it would take some effort before I could be in the same room with her and not have an overwhelming urge to hold her.

  Chapter 17

  Camille

  My whole day had been a nightmare. I’d never, ever, had feelings for a friend’s boyfriend, let alone fiancé. I’d analyzed the whole situation at least a thousand times – I didn’t know how it happened, but I vowed it would never happen again. I wanted to confess, tell her everything, beg her to forgive me, but the selfish part of me wouldn’t let me tell her. I was sure the truth would land me on a plane bound for the west coast by the afternoon.

  Bianca had been so good to me, my first real friend since I got here, and I’d kissed her fiancé. I was so ashamed of myself. I didn’t even try to tell myself that it had anything to do with her feelings for another guy – because it didn’t. I couldn’t look her in the eye the rest of the day. When Drake went to join Brent and Bianca in the state room, I couldn’t follow. The guilt was overwhelming. I wanted to crawl into a corner and hide. I considered taking the dingy back to shore just so I didn’t have to face them, to face her. My stomach was tied up in knots, and I was miserable. I could hear my mom’s words from my childhood, “Never lie, cheat, or steal, Camille – any other mistake you make can be forgiven, but lying, cheating or stealing are actions done with malice, with forethought. You invite evil into your heart if you do any of them.” Mom was a bartender and a waitress most of my life, so she always had advice for me when I needed it, and in that moment when I needed her words of wisdom, these were the ones that replayed in my head.

  When the three came back up on the deck, I couldn’t tell Bianca what’d happened. I knew Drake hadn’t said anything because she was laughing and carrying on. It was a good thing I’d watched Titanic two hundred times over the last ten years. I knew every scene, the entire dialogue for the whole movie. I played it over and over in my head, so Bianca couldn’t see what I’d done.

  By the time we pulled up in front of Bianca’s house, I was sick of the movie and had started going over lyrics to songs in my head. As miserable as I felt, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I’d never purposely lied to anyone in my life. I knew I’d need to tell her, but I was so distraught I couldn’t tell her today. Thankfully, Brent dropped her off first. I pretended to be asleep in the car because I knew I couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. I continued with song lyrics in my head until she was safely inside her house. Drake had walked her to the door. He didn’t seem to be affected at all – no guilt. What a scum bag.

  When he got back to the car, I “woke up” from my pretend nap, but refused to make eye contact with him or speak. The shame began to morph into anger. I felt like I was going to come apart at the seams, and he acted like nothing had happened.

  Brent was oblivious to my inner turmoil when he asked Drake, “You and Bianca want to catch a movie later?”

  I didn’t give Drake a chance to answer, “Brent, I’d rather hang out with Gretchen and Will tonight.”

  Brent glanced over his shoulder. “Uh, okay. I didn’t know you were awake. We can hang out with Mom and Dad today and catch a late showing tonight.”

  I didn’t even glance at Drake in the front passenger seat, “No thanks. Too much sun.”

  To his credit, Drake agreed. “Yeah, I’ve got a pretty tough week coming up. I doubt we’ll be able to do anything.”

  I could see Brent looking between Drake and me. He knew something was up but couldn’t put his finger on it and shrugged. “Okay. Maybe next weekend?”

  I cringed at the thought, but Drake again answered, “Maybe. Oh wait . . . I’m going to a pre-season game in Charlotte next weekend.” I was thankful he seemed to want to keep just as much distance from me as I did him. Maybe he felt just as guilty as I did and was just better at hiding it.

  *****

  When Brent and I walked in the door, we heard voices in the family room, but I didn’t have the strength to put on a happy face. I went to my room, shut the door and crawled into bed. It was only a little after 4 p.m., but I couldn’t face anyone. It was a fitful sleep; images of Drake kept seeping into my subconscious. Every time I saw those light blue eyes in my head, I startled myself awake – refusing to replay any of the images I’d seen on the yacht today. At midnight, I knew I needed to talk to someone. I picked up the phone and scrolled to Daniel.

  He picked up right away, dispensing with the customary, “Hello,” and said, “So, tell me about your latest adventure.”

  “I miss you.”

  “Oh come on, tired of the private jets and yachts already?”

  “Shut up. What’re you doing?”

  “Beach day. Bonfire in Carlsbad, met a girl.”

  “You always meet a girl. In two days you’ll figure out she’s not perfect and you’ll meet another girl.”

  “Naw, I’d give this one a week.”

  “Wow, she must be special. You’re such a man-whore.”

  “Man-whore? I just love women. So really, what happened today? That mouth freshener girl, did you two do anything today?”

  “Mouth freshener girl?”

  “Binaca, right?”

  “Her name’s Bianca, you bonehead!” Daniel sucked at remembering people’s names. One time he introduced one of his girlfriends to me as “Anita” when in fact her name was “Benita.” She corrected him several times before she decided he wasn’t worth her time. Daniel was a great guy but was never big on details.

  “Oh, there’s such a big difference. Did you two get together?”

  “Yeah, Brent took us all out on the boat today. But, I’d much rather hear about your day.”

  Daniel’s tone was accusatory, “What happened, Camille?”

  “Nothing happened. Can’t I just be homesick and want to know what’s going on with you?”

  “No. I know you too well. It’s midnight there. You didn’t call me all day: something happened. Spill it.”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Try me.”

  “I can’t. I just seriously screwed something up and wanted to hear a friendly voice.”

  “I hate it when you hide shit. What happened, Camille?”

  I took a deep breath. This was why I had called him. I needed to get it off my chest. I had to tell someone before I imploded from the guilt. Daniel was part psychic, at least that’s what I’d always told him. He always knew when he wasn’t getting the whole story and would drag it out of me, give me advice, and then tell me everything would be fine. “Okay, so there’s this guy, who I don’t like, that I kind of kissed.”

  “Why would you kiss a guy you don’t like?”

  “I don’t know. Why do you wear socks to bed?”

  “Because I don’t like my feet to be cold when I sleep. I’ll ask again: why would you kiss a guy you don’t like? Do you like him, but you don’t want to admit it?”

  “I don’t know him well enough to like him or not like him. But I know I don�
��t like him.”

  “Camille, can you hear yourself?”

  “Would you shut up and listen?”

  “Alright, alright, so you kissed this guy, who you don’t like, and it bothered you so badly that you had to call and tell me you don’t like him.”

  “Something like that.”

  “If you’re looking for relationship advice, I say: don’t kiss him again.”

  “You’re such a genius. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “That’s what I’m here for, baby. To help you weed through the complexities of your psyche. This one was a real stumper. I’ll put it on your bill.”

  “So, he’s kind of Bianca’s fiancé.”

  “Kind of or he is?”

  I took a deep breath, “He is.”

  “My vote hasn’t changed. I still don’t think you should kiss him again.”

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious. Do I tell her?”

  “Hmmm, who initiated, you or him?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “If you initiated, then you have to decide if telling the truth is worth giving up the first friend you made out there. If he initiated it, then he’s a snake. He’s probably done it before, and he’ll more than likely do it again – so tell her.”

  “I think, maybe, I initiated it. I don’t know . . . it all happened so fast.”

  “Whoa, Cami, you kissed this guy knowing he was Binaca’s fiancé?”

  “Her name’s Bianca, and I didn’t mean to.”

  “You know, I saw that on the news last week. People walking down the street, minding their own business, and BAM their lips turn elastic and wrap themselves around a friend’s man. Happens all the time. It’s a side-effect from the ‘Stupid Pill.’ Must have refilled your prescription before you lef’ town.”

  “You’re not helping, Daniel.”

  “Cami, look. You feel bad for a reason. Own up to it with Bianca and it’ll make you feel better.”

  “There’s more at stake than me. If I tell her, she’ll break off her engagement. Drake says it won’t happen again.”