For all intents and purposes, they were a couple.
Hell, maybe if he brought it up again, she'd be just fine telling Darryl. After all, it wasn't as if they'd talked about it recently.
"Hey," she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. "You're really upset. You want to talk about it?"
He shook his head. "No. It just got under my skin."
"Well, come here." She lifted the sheet, inviting him back under, then spooned up next to him. "Better now?"
"Much better," he said. And he hoped like hell it was true.
* * *
"I'm not working tonight," Cam said on Monday morning as they scurried around the condo, gathering up their personal belongings and putting the place back in order for Kiki and Noah. They weren't arriving until Wednesday, but Cam wanted to clear out today so that the housekeeper could do a thorough cleaning. "Do you want to see if Darryl's up for a movie night? I could handle a wild action flick."
"Sure," she said, her voice muffled since she was on her hands and knees searching for a lost sock under the bed. "Come on, you," she muttered. "Show yourself."
Cam pressed his palm to his mouth to stifle a laugh, then leaned against the wall and watched her. He wanted to capture each and every memory. Because as much as the sex was great--and it was--these were the moments that he truly cherished. The little things that filled the days and made him smile.
The way she talked to herself when she gathered her clothes, which were inevitably scattered across the house. The way she hummed when she brushed her teeth, classical music on the weekends, and The Beatles during the week.
And he definitely loved the way she leaned casually against him as she waited for the bread to pop out of the toaster.
Real stuff. Real life.
That's what he wanted to wrap a bow around and keep forever, and that was what her comment at the park and the later dream had made him fear he was losing. The entirety of the woman he loved, not the girl he slept with. The nitty-gritty. Every tiny, unexplored piece that he could spend a lifetime discovering.
That's what he wanted--and he hoped she felt the same way. Because he couldn't stay hidden any longer. He wanted her. He wanted them. All weekend he'd had to censor his conversations at work, being careful not to reveal who'd he'd been with. And, dammit, he'd hated it.
He wanted to be a couple. For now and, God willing, forever.
He just hoped that when he told her as much he'd get his wish--and not one hell of a kick in the balls.
Chapter Thirteen
Mina had searched every square inch of the condo, and was certain she'd found every stray piece of clothing she'd misplaced over their long weekend in luxury. Which meant that she no longer had any reason for staying well-below Cam's eye level.
And since he was off the clock until Friday, he was no longer working crazy hours and dealing with managerial responsibilities. Any knotty problems she threw at him wouldn't be one more burden piled on an already challenging day.
In other words, Mina was all out of excuses.
She really wished she weren't. Because the talk they needed to have wasn't a talk she wanted to have. But Wednesday was coming up fast, and she was running out of time.
Dammit.
Her Los Angeles dream job h
ad landed in her lap in the form of her new boss's outgoing personal assistant calling on Sunday afternoon to offer her the pie-in-the-sky job she'd applied for a full three months ago. Hollywood. The Holy Grail she'd dreamt about forever. The Shangri-La where her classmates were making films and building careers.
As far as Mina was concerned, she was at the center of a full-blown miracle, and the one person she wanted to share her news with was the one person who wouldn't want to hear it. Which was why she'd ended up calling Lydia instead.
How could good news feel so damn bad?
And how was she ever going to work up the courage to tell him?
"Are you planning on doing yoga or something?" Cam asked, a tease in his voice. "Because you've been on your knees on the floor now for at least fifteen minutes."
She lifted her head, giving him a wry look. "Maybe."