Lupine Dreams Pt 05 Ch 14 17

Author's note:

Just a refresher: The story is completed and I'm posting a couple of times a week in parts of 2-4 chapters based on how the story breaks naturally. You definitely will need to have read the previous parts first. Hope you'll give it a shot if you're seeing this series for the first time (:

This is a romance through and through, meant to appeal to your heart, not as much to other parts (; Readers who want to get lost in a vivid, modern character study of imperfect, emotional people trying their best will enjoy. Sex plays a large role thematically, but occurs sporadically. That being said, for those who appreciate a heads up, there is some rough sex in today's chapters.

~~~

Chapter 14

[vibe track: murakami - made in heights]

Morning sun leaked through the curtains. Cameron could still feel Henry's arm around her midsection, hers resting on top.

She turned in his arms to face him. He was still asleep. Everything about his face looked relaxed, and she realized she felt just as unencumbered.

The silence of night had been replaced with the gentle sounds of a suburban Friday morning, filtering through the room — the chirps of early birds, a dog barking, cars getting started before the commute. It lent a softness to everything — even Cameron herself.

As she examined him closely in the morning light, she still didn't think the man holding her was terribly handsome. That wasn't the right word for it. But there was something about his face now that she associated with the warm, unfamiliar feeling inside her she'd woken up with.

Careful not to disturb him, she found herself curiously running her hand slowly along his jaw, a day of stubble rough against her palm. Maybe she was starting to understand a little bit the connection Henry seemed to relish through touch, she thought to herself.

Just a little

.

Her finger traced to the corner of his mouth, where his smiles began. Cameron tried to see if she could mimic it herself, coaxing a smile to start subtly at the corner of her lips and jerkily tugging it across. It didn't come naturally. Smiling in general didn't come naturally to her. She was happy plenty, laughed plenty. Just...she didn't feel the need to show people what she was feeling all the time, that was all.

The smile stayed on her face for a few moments while she soaked him in. She didn't know what time it was. But it still felt like the same moment she'd fallen asleep in — one just for them that could stretch on as long as they wanted it to.

Then the alarm on his phone went off. Her smile disappeared.

Oh yeah. He probably has to get to school.

His eyes opened a little, squinting at the light, and he let go of her to reach back to the nightstand behind him, switching off the alarm.

He turned back to her, his eyes still only half open, and gently moved the long wave of her hair drooping over one side of her face so that it flopped back instead. She let him, comfortable at his touch.

"Morning," he whispered. He apparently didn't want to break the quiet either, even though his alarm had already done it.

And there was the smile, following the path her finger had traced just moments ago.

For once, she didn't try to stop herself from doing the same, letting her tight lips loosen and spread into their own lopsided expression. It made him grin even wider. But he didn't comment on it. She liked that about him, too. He didn't make a big deal out of things that didn't need to be a big deal.

"Sleep okay?" he said, groggily.

She nodded, her eyes locked on his. They were as soft as his caress.

A scratching at the door interrupted them, and Henry gave a little laugh.

"Da Vinci's gonna break down the door if I don't go feed him." He sighed. "I should get up anyway. We carpool on Fridays, so I really shouldn't be late."

Just like that, the spell was broken, and she remembered what had made her so close to bolting last night.

Right. Friday morning carpool. You probably chat in the car about your...life insurance plans and 401(k)s or whatever.

Her smile evaporated and she turned over, rolling out of bed before he did. She started to collect her things while he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Rather than kneel, she bent over with her back to him while she put away her laptop and speakers, knowing he would like the look at her legs.

When she turned around, that's exactly where his eyes were, and she smiled to herself — but only on the inside. She stooped to a crouch instead to finish her work, facing him.

"Umm..." he started.

Uh oh. Here we go with one of his "umms" again. Must be something he's uncomfortable about.

"What...what are you doing tonight?"

She stopped zipping her backpack and looked up at him, surprised at the question.

Why should I be, though?

Cameron reluctantly admitted to herself that while she wasn't sure

what

, they

were

kind of...

something

now, weren't they? This was the third night they'd spent together, and she'd woken up in his arms and...hadn't tried to run. That made it about a little more than the fucking, didn't it....

Fuck, I guess...I guess it does.

On its own, that didn't fill her with fear or anxiety, it was just...unexpected. She really hadn't thought any further than just last night. She hardly ever did.

Cameron realized she'd been quiet for way, way too long, just looking at him. She snapped out of it and returned her attention to her backpack, finishing zipping it up.

"I'm doing the late set at Moonlight," she said, rocking back out of her crouch to slip on her socks. She picked up her hoodie and sweatpants, getting up. "You...should...come."

He grinned at her, beaming. "Sure, that sounds fun."

"Okay. I'll...I'll text you."

She'd dated before, of course. But she just felt so out of her element here. Maybe if they hung out at Moonlight, her turf, then she'd be more...

I dunno. Just like, less fucking awkward. And we wouldn't have to talk much, either.

He opened the door to the bedroom, allowing Da Vinci to fall forward and meow at him demandingly. Henry went into the kitchen to feed him, and Cameron lazily followed.

"Hey, I have to jump in the shower again real quick — you can feel free to grab some breakfast or something," he said apologetically. "I'll be real quick."

"I was just gonna leave..." she said, thumbing toward the door.

He shrugged. "You don't have to go yet if you don't want."

She

didn't

want to. Everything that had been waiting for her yesterday was still there, even in the light of day — and even if she felt more equipped to face it.

So she dropped her stuff next to the couch instead. "Yeah, okay, sure. Thanks."

He smiled and headed back to the bathroom.

"Wait," she said, "what? You're taking

another

shower? Are you...like...one of those germ people...."

He laughed. "No. My hair just like — I mean look at it."

She did. It looked messy. Like he'd been sleeping on it. But that was all. She shrugged.

"It just doesn't look right if I don't wash it in the morning. Trust me. It's a whole thing."

She gave him a look that she hoped conveyed she did

not

trust him, on this anyway. He just laughed again and went into the bathroom.

Cameron pulled out a Cheerios box and found a bowl and spoon, pouring out the cereal. She stopped on her way to the table to offer her hand out to the sated cat, letting him get a whiff after he'd had enough of his own breakfast. He rubbed the side of his face against her fingers and she gave him a scratch behind the ears in return.

Familiar doubts crept in as she took a seat, helping herself to a spoonful of Cheerios. Natural light streamed in through the windows.

She felt acutely out of place here. She didn't

have

a kitchen table. She didn't have Friday morning carpool. She didn't have a calendar with happy family vacations on it.

This is crazy. We're both just...well I don't really know what the fuck he is, I guess. That's the problem. I know I'm here because I'm fucking...

she sighed, not wanting to even admit in her own head how lonely she had to be to end up at his kitchen table before 7 a.m. on a Friday.

She looked down at the divorce papers next to her bowl, right where they'd been the night before.

He's probably just pussy-starved. And a fucking pussy himself.

She knew that wasn't fair, but she felt a little better anyway.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Cameron froze, and so did Da Vinci. They both looked at the front door as if it might jump at them if they moved.

KNOCKKNOCKNOCKNOCK.

It was more insistent this time. When she heard keys slot into the lock, she wished she could've joined the cat in scampering under the couch.

The handle turned, then a woman backed through the door, holding a cooking tray in one hand and a laptop in the other. She was taller than Cameron, wearing professional-looking jeans and a bright orange blouse. Her dark blonde hair was up in a ponytail.

"Hey

Aaaaaaandddreewwww

! I brought—"

Her green eyes went wide when they found Cameron, and she stopped in her tracks.

"Oh...oh...

oh

shitshitshitshit

shit

," she said, seeming to go through several realizations in sequence.

Cameron was thinking the same thing. Actually, she was thinking about a thousand things, all buzzing around her head at once.

She has a key to his place? And...did she say "Andrew?"

Whoever she was, she wasn't Mal — Cameron had seen her before and knew it wasn't his wife. It didn't matter either way. Cameron immediately regretted not trusting her instincts, scolding herself silently while she dropped her spoon and got up.

"Oh I am so,

so

sorry," the woman said, still standing in the doorway as Cameron crossed to the couch to tug on her sweatpants. "I was...returning the laptop before carpool...and...."

This was definitely rocketing out of control, Cameron thought as she stepped into her shoes.

Way too messy, way too fast — whatever the fuck this is. What the fuck was I thinking?

"We're just friends, by the way," the woman said, taking a step inside with her hands still full. "Err...not that...not that you should've thought anything else...shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just come in."

Cameron pulled on her hoodie.

"Oh please don't leave because of me, really, can we just pretend I was never here...?"

Again, Cameron was thinking the same thing. As she slung her backpack over her shoulder, she took a couple hesitant steps toward the woman and the door behind her, but stopped short to ask one of the buzzing questions bouncing around her head.

"Umm..." she heard herself say.

Fuck. Now who's uncomfortable?

She looked up at the woman haltingly. "Does he...does he go by his middle name?"

The stranger's sharp green eyes softened as Cameron asked the question, though the woman looked confused.

"Err...what's his middle name...?"

"Andrew."

The woman seemed surprised. "Uhh, then...yeah. I guess he does," she said with as much of a shrug as she could manage without dropping anything.

Cameron nodded gravely.

How many fucking names does this guy have? How come he let me call him Henry? Just like he let me call him Melvin. Whatever. That shit doesn't even matter. It's everything. Why did I think this was a good idea. This is too fucking compl—

She was going to think "complicated," but it reminded her too much of him and how he'd described her that night. She settled for "messy" instead, annoyed that now she couldn't even use that word without thinking of it as

com-pli-ca-ted

.

The woman's eyes seemed to recognize something in Cameron because they got a little wider. "Are you—"

"I was just leaving," Cameron finished for her. And she strode past the woman, slamming the door shut on the mess behind her.

~~~

Chapter 15

The TV was on, but Andrew wasn't really watching the black-and-white science fiction movie he'd turned on. He'd texted Cameron a couple of times, but figured any more would've looked desperate. Da Vinci headbutted him before stepping onto his lap, probably pointing out the first two texts were plenty desperate enough on their own.

Heather had apologized and apologized — she felt terrible. But while Andrew was a little pissed at her, he knew it wasn't really her fault. Cameron was unpredictable. Or at least

he

hadn't figured out how to predict her.

He'd just been in such a stupidly good mood after she'd

smiled

at him in bed this morning. Smiled! He didn't know her that well and hadn't known her for that long, but he'd made her orgasm twice and never saw her smile until they woke up together this morning. It felt like...like they were moving

toward

something, not ending something.

Andrew still couldn't understand what Heather could've possibly said to set her off. Heather couldn't either. She told him that she just was blabbering like an idiot about how she shouldn't have come in, and then Cameron asked her if he went by his middle name.

Is that what did it? That I go by Andrew but she's been calling me Henry?

Henry was his first name. But he hadn't gone by that since...since he was 8. Almost nobody called him Henry anymore, even his sisters.

He liked it, that's why he hadn't corrected her. He didn't think of himself as Henry anymore, but when she called him that? He

liked

the way it felt. So much that when she said it during her orgasm....

Ugh. Okay. It was stupid. I gave her a fake name to start, then I let her call me Henry. I guess maybe she felt like I was just lying to her again and again?

That couldn't possibly be it, he was sure...but it was the only thing he could think of. He thought he'd at least managed to learn a working vocabulary for speaking Cameron, but she'd proved him wrong yet again.

Why did I take the shower dammit! Who cares if your fucking hair doesn't look quite right, NOBODY FUCKING CARES!

Cameron certainly didn't care. Maybe it was the shower? Did she think he was like, weirdly vain? Or was she just done with her Cheerios and left without thinking anything was wrong?

Honestly, that hadn't seemed out of the realm of possibility. But now that it was after 6 and she had yet to respond to his texts...it felt unlikely. Whatever the threshold for ghosting was, he was pretty sure they were past it.

Andrew sighed, stroking Da Vinci's fur while the cat purred on his lap. He didn't know when the "late set" at Moonlight started but—

KNOCK-KNOCK KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK...KNOCK KNOCK.

Andrew looked up from the couch where he was sitting.

Is it her? No...she doesn't knock. But, maybe....

Da Vinci put up no resistance in hopping off Andrew's lap, diving straight under the couch. He knew a knock on the door meant a visitor.

Trying not to get his hopes up, Andrew swung the door open — and nearly swallowed his tongue.

"Surprise!"

Mal stood on his doorstep, holding up a McDonald's bag and wearing a plastered-on grin. It wasn't one of her patented electrically powered smiles — it was forced, like she knew this was not exactly cool, but she was doing her best to put a casual face on it anyway. "Can I come in?"

Andrew stared at his wife in utter shock. Cameron had completely driven from his mind the anxiousness about Mal being back in town that had taken up residence there not so long ago. Now it all came flooding back.

And she's standing on my doorstep

.

She was still smiling, illuminated only by the light leaving the living room on a night cloudy enough to obscure the moon. There was a pleading in her hazel eyes that said she had no delusions about whether a reasonable man would let her in. But they both knew that when it came to her, he had never been a reasonable man. Especially when caught flat-footed.

After the few seconds of shock wore off, Andrew turned and let her pass.

What the fuck is she doing here? What the fuck am I doing letting her in? Just tell her no! It's not too late now, you can still do it, goddammit!

With a will of its own, his hand closed the door behind her, and he watched her while she walked to the kitchen table as if she'd been there a million times before. She was wearing tight, stylish dark blue jeans and a silky, cream-colored blouse with black, professional flats. Her hair was down, pouring down half her back — a melting chocolate-brown. Her body looked as trim as ever, and his eyes followed her like a reflex, settling on her athletic, taut behind before she turned around to see if he would join her.

Snapping out of it, he did, taking one of the three seats at the small, round table. Their divorce papers were still sitting on it.

Did Cameron see the divorce papers? Did she get freaked out over that? Why would that freak her out? She knew about Mal, didn't she?

Mal didn't show if she took any notice of what the papers were, she just slid them to the side and pulled out a wrapped-up burger, putting it in front of him — smiling all the while.

"Just cheese, no worries," she said. "Not unlike yourself," she added with a wink.

He gave a thin smile back, trying to catch up with what was suddenly happening.

Setting a chicken sandwich box in front of herself, Mal took a seat next to him, then snagged a couple of fries from a container she put between them.

"You okay?" she said with a sidelong glance after finishing chewing.

He wobbled his head from side to side noncommittally, delaying having to answer so he could snap himself out of his own thoughts and focus on what was in front of him.

"Y-yeah...yeah. Sorry. Just...yeah. Hi." He smiled at her, but it felt as forced as hers had looked.

"Hey, I know I shouldn't be here," she said, bowing her head. "I just figured, we're adults, right? I'm back in town now, so let's...talk. And see where things go, yeah?"

He took a bite of his burger. She'd remembered he wasn't a big fan of condiments. Of course she had, he thought. She'd always teased him about being a plain vanilla kind of guy. She just usually wasn't referring to food.

"So...you and Paul not hitting the clubs tonight?" She winked at him and he snorted, more genuinely amused now.

"Yeah, you know, figured we'd give the ladies a break. They can only handle so much of

this

," he said, gesturing at his body. "As you well know," he muttered as an afterthought.

He immediately regretted saying it. For a fraction of a second, her expression changed before reverting to the professional smile she'd apparently painted on for the night. But for that fraction, he recognized the pain of guilt flash across her face.

"So...you were at a bachelorette party?" he said, trying to move the conversation along and away from his barb.

She nodded, swallowing before answering. "Yeah, Nikki's getting married next weekend. You remember Nikki? My friend from—"

"from that law firm you worked for for a while, yeah. Sure, I remember Nikki." He hadn't recognized Nikki on the dancefloor that night, although that wasn't where his attention had been, to be fair.

It made a more genuine smile form on Mal's face.

You think I don't remember every single detail about you? You know I do. Maybe you just want to prove it to yourself. That nothing's changed. Or at least that

I

haven't. Have you...?

Unexpectedly, she set down her sandwich, eyeing him seriously.

"Umm...what's up?" he said, freezing his burger halfway to his mouth.