In Her Arms (Indigo Lounge #4)

11. Cameron

11

CAMERON

T he final week of filming went smoothly, and there was a bittersweet, joyful atmosphere on set during the last day. The final scene slated to be shot was a climactic event where Goldie’s character led the charge during a prosecution where every main character of the series was present. When the director called cut f or the final time, it was like a dam had broken. There was cheering all around with crew members hugging and high-fiving. The director of the final episode, a woman Goldie said that she had worked with in the past, immediately ran to her to give her a hug. Leon, standing a few feet away, had allowed them to have a moment before joining in, giving Goldie a squeeze. Cameron, meanwhile, had been cajoled into a group hug, mostly consisting of sound techs and other assistants. They had gotten to know each other rather well over the last few weeks of filming, and Cameron knew she would miss their company. Everything about this job had grown on her, including her tolerance and fondness for Goldie. Film sets had a habit of forging close bonds; she had known that before starting, but she was really starting to feel it.

There was only one person she really wanted to hug. Goldie had been more nervous than usual about filming the last scene, with Cameron awkwardly stepping in for the other characters during a last-minute read-through. If nothing else, her silly character voices got to Goldie, and Cameron saw her laugh for the first time that week. It brought up something in her that she had been determined to shut down. She wasn’t sure if it was working.

The resident star of the set was being downright hounded by well-wishers looking to congratulate her. Cameron figured it wouldn’t be the best time to congratulate her properly for her hard work, especially in the very intimate way that she wanted to. Still, she knew she would get the opportunity to steal her away at the wrap party the following evening.

The collective star power of the Paperweight cast was nothing to sneeze at. Together, they had managed to book out The Orchid, one of the most high-class nightclubs in L.A., for the exclusive wrap party. Typically, patrons of the club were decked out in the finest clothes a reputation could buy, haute couture casual pieces that would make a costume designer cry. If that sounded like a contradiction, that’s because it was: casual fancy clothes. Instead, the night of the wrap party, The Orchid was graced by a different clientele all together. Every cast and crew member who could make it—and quite a few of them could—were squeezed into the club, filling two floors and breaking away in groups into smaller rooms for bottle service.

The only thing that didn’t change? The paparazzi. This was, after all, still their hunting ground. As Cameron walked up the red carpet (no expense had been spared,) a few stray camera bulbs flashed.

How does Goldie cope with this full time? she thought to herself, mindful of every step she made.

She had been worried about what to wear. In the end, she had called Mia the night before in a panic who, to her credit, didn’t laugh at her too much. Instead, Cameron gave her a tour of her closet over video call, and Mia helped her pick an outfit suitable for a club frequented by rich heterosexuals that wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. All the same, walking down the carpet in a pair of old leather pants and a loose shirt, Cameron didn’t feel like she was assimilating. The fact that the crew had been invited to the wrap party and that the party was being held here was an anomaly. By comparison, she knew that showing up in an outfit that actually made her feel comfortable wouldn’t create much buzz.

The security guard checked her name against the list he held on a clipboard and, once she produced ID, smiled at her and swung the door open. She had been able to feel the bass from the DJ’s set through the soles of her boots, and as the door opened, she was hit with a wave of sound. She stepped in, the air smokey and the lights low, barring some spotlights illuminating the bar. She made her way over.

The bar staff, to their credit, were handling the giant crowds with grace. In fact, they seemed to enjoy chatting to patrons, laughing amongst each other as they mixed and poured drinks. Cameron got the distinct feeling that if she were somehow able to get into this club any other night of the week, she would feel downright tacky asking for a beer. Tonight, she was more than comfortable, laughing as she made conversation with other crew members. Sipping from a bottle, the tension melted off her shoulders. Having checked the weather forecast the night before, she knew it would be a good idea to skip bringing a jacket, and she wasn’t regretting it now. The dance floor was packed wall-to-wall with sweating cast and crew members, mingling and dancing.

She hadn’t spotted Goldie yet, and her eyes continuously scanned the room looking for her. She desperately wanted to see her and say hi. She had tried not to dwell on the fact that this would probably be her last time seeing Goldie. She knew Goldie would be off on another project and Cameron would be back in her own reality.

Cameron didn’t know what to think. She knew exactly how she felt, as much as she had tried to deny it. She was fond of Goldie. She liked knowing she was nearby. She liked the smell of her, the taste of her, but also she liked the way she laughed at silly voice impressions and got all misty-eyed at a good love story. She knew exactly how she felt about Goldie, and up until a few nights ago had been convinced it was a one-way thing. Until she felt Goldie’s hand push into hers. Until that same night ended with a soft kiss from her. No intense fucking. Just softness from what she thought might be the real Goldie. Or was she just lonely and leaning into the nearest warm body? The latter sounded more likely, and the more she thought about the mixed signals and possibilities, the more she wanted to run for the hills. Getting her emotions fucked with was not on her agenda for this year. But still, Cameron wanted to see her and say hello. She needed to.

Cameron moved from where she had been perched at the bar and walked rather ungracefully toward one of the standing-height tables on the edge of the dance floor, trying and failing to not bump into anyone. She wanted to take in the atmosphere of the festivities. People had really begun to get into the dancing as the DJ pumped out a set of classic pop and dance. Everybody who wasn’t at the bar was dancing or hovering on the edges of the dance floor, basking in the absurd joy of Leon Addison doing the Macarena with some of the catering workers. That was the thing. Tonight, Leon Addison was simply just some guy. It didn’t matter how many Daytime or Primetime Emmys the man had or how many times he had been voted Man of the Year.

The song changed to something sultry and slow, an R it felt like so much more than that. So much.

She took another swig of her beer. The frosty liquid did next to nothing to cool the heat creeping up her neck.

Jesus, I need a shot.

But she stopped and reminded herself that being friendly was the name of Goldie’s game. She was a natural charmer. It didn’t mean anything, surely. The handholding, the kissing…it was nothing to this woman. But the more she repeated that mantra, the hollower it sounded.

A minute ticked by. Then another. The music was banging, and Cameron could feel the beat in her bones. She watched as bodies pressed close together on the dance floor and the laughter of the cast and crew intermingled with the thumping bass. Regardless of her conflicting desires, her eyes kept searching. She was looking for that familiar flash of blonde hair and that sparkling grin.

Then, through the crowd, she saw Goldie again. She looked to be alone, without a care in the world, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music. Her eyes locked onto Cameron’s once more. This time, she didn’t look away.

Cameron’s heart thudded as Goldie began to weave her way through the crowd, her movements slow and deliberate.

God, she sure knows what she’s doing. She’s a powerhouse.

Cameron set down her bottle and did what she could to prepare herself mentally as Goldie drew closer. The woman’s skin was glowing. She looked so alive, so vivacious…so irresistible.

Fuck me.

“Hey there, stranger,” Goldie said, raising her voice so Cameron could hear her over the music.

Cameron tried to come up with a response. She was aiming for something witty, something cool…fucking anything. But her throat felt tight, and the words stubbornly decided to stay stuck in her throat. She settled for a nod and a smile and prayed it didn’t look half as awkward as she felt. Goldie was beyond stunning—and being in such proximity to her was not unlike flying too close to the sun.

“So, here you are! I was wondering if you’d make it,” Goldie said her voice teasing but her eyes soft. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“You—” Cameron cleared her throat and looked down at her cheap but stylish boots wondering why she hadn’t made more of an effort to get dressed up. “You were? Really?”

Goldie’s lips curved into a grin. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Cameron shook her head, her heart pounding too hard to trust herself with words. Goldie took a step closer, the space between them almost non-existent by this point. Cameron could feel the heat of her body, smell the faint traces of perfume and a sweet, almost sweaty smell that smelled divine as far as she was concerned.

“You look great, by the way,” Goldie said, her gaze sweeping over Cameron’s outfit. “Very...you.”

Cameron chuckled nervously. “Ha. I was just thinking the exact opposite. Thanks. I wasn’t sure I’d fit in here.”

“You fit in just fine,” Goldie replied, licking her lips slowly and giving Cameron the once-over again. “You’d fit in anywhere. Besides, I’m glad you didn’t try to blend in. I like you just the way you are.”

The words sent a shiver down Cameron’s spine. She opened her mouth to say something, but Goldie was already reaching out, her hand brushing against Cameron’s. The touch was light, almost tentative, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through Cameron’s body.

Without thinking, Cameron grabbed Goldie’s fingers and gave them a brief squeeze. Goldie didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer, her lips hovering near Cameron’s ear.

“Dance with me?” Goldie asked, her breath warm against Cameron’s skin.

Cameron gulped and wondered why her mouth felt so goddamn dry.

Goldie is going to think I’m an idiot! Why have I lost the ability to speak?

She wasn’t much of a dancer and would never usually bust a move in a place like this, surrounded by glamorous people who seemed to move with effortless grace. It just wasn’t her bag. But when Goldie pulled her gently toward the dance floor, Cameron did nothing to stop her.

The music slowed to a sultry beat, the kind that made people move just that little bit closer to each other. Cameron hesitated for a moment, but Goldie’s hands found her waist, and suddenly nothing else mattered. It was just the two of them, swaying together under the hot lights, their bodies pressed close.

Cameron could feel the heat radiating off Goldie and the softness of her hands as they moved from her waist to her shoulders. It was overwhelming in a way that made her head spin.

Goldie’s eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. The noise, the crowd, the flashing club lights—it all fell away, leaving just the two of them in this tiny, suspended moment.

“Come with me,” Goldie said, her voice husky, bold, and leaving absolutely no room for argument.

Cameron followed without question, letting herself be pulled through the crowd as they weaved between their fellow partygoers. Goldie’s grip was firm. Cameron had no idea where they were going, but she didn’t care. All she could think about was the sensation of Goldie’s skin against hers and the way her body buzzed.

They passed through a hallway, the sound of the music muted slightly as they moved away from the main room. Goldie led them into a small private room. It was dark and intimate, with just enough light filtering in from the hallway to make out the shape of a couch pushed against one wall.

“Where’s the light switch?” Cameron muttered under her breath. “I can’t see a thing in here. ”

Cameron ran her hand along the wall, but Goldie wasn’t answering. Suddenly, she felt herself being pushed up against the wall. Goldie’s lips were on Cameron’s in an instant, desperate and hungry. Cameron gasped, her hands instinctively going to Goldie’s breasts and hips. She massaged the voluptuous handful of firm flesh, feeling Goldie’s nipples harden against her palms. As they continued to kiss harder, Cameron realized that Goldie tasted like champagne and lipstick. The mixture of flavors was sweet and intoxicating. Cameron melted into Goldie, losing herself in the kiss.

The room was so dark, but it didn’t matter. The beat of the music pulsed through the walls, providing a rhythm to their frantic kiss. Goldie’s hands were everywhere—gripping Cameron’s hips, her waist, tugging her closer until there was no space left between them.

Cameron’s breath got caught in her throat when Goldie’s fingers tangled in her hair, tugging just hard enough to make her knees weak. She moaned into Goldie’s mouth, her hands sliding down to cup the actress’s crotch, pulling her impossibly closer.

“God, I’ve wanted this,” Goldie murmured as she threw her head back. “I’ve wanted you. I’m wet every time I think about you.”

Cameron felt a thrill rush through her at the words, her stomach flipping. She hadn’t expected Goldie to be the one to make the first move, but now that they were here, in this small room, with Goldie’s lips on hers and her hands roaming freely, it was all she could do to keep herself from losing control.

Christ! I can’t come before we’ve even got started.

Goldie pulled back slightly, her eyes dark and hungry. “I need you, Cameron,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the muffled music. “Now.”

Cameron didn’t have to be asked twice. Her fingers worked quickly, slipping under the waistband of Goldie’s high-waisted pants and sliding down until she found the heat between her thighs.

“I want to…” Goldie moaned, her head falling back against the wall as Cameron’s fingers pressed against her, stroking her through the thin fabric of her panties. “Fuck,” Goldie breathed, her hips grinding against Cameron’s hand. “Don’t stop.”

Cameron didn’t. She pushed Goldie’s panties aside, her fingers sliding between her folds, finding her wet, her lips plump and hot. Goldie gasped, her body trembling as Cameron’s fingers moved inside her, slow at first, then faster as Goldie’s moans grew louder, drowning out the music.

Cameron leaned in, kissing her neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin as her fingers worked faster, deeper. Goldie’s nails dug into Cameron’s shoulders, and Cameron reveled in the sensation of Goldie about to come in her arms.

Goldie’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking against Cameron’s hand as she chased her release.

“Oh, Cameron! Cameron!” she yelled as juices poured out of her vagina, soaking Cameron’s fingers. Cameron’s thumb circled her clit, adding just the right amount of pressure, and within moments, Goldie was trembling, her body tensing as she came with a sharp scream, her fingers gripping Cameron’s shoulders.

They stood there for a moment, Goldie’s breath coming out in sharp rasps. Cameron pressed a soft kiss to her lips, her heart racing as she pulled her fingers away, sliding them out of Goldie’s pants.

For a moment, they just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes with wide grins on their faces.

“I’m sorry,” Goldie said suddenly.

Cameron frowned. “Sorry…for what, exactly?”

“For how I acted when we first met,” Goldie started to explain, her eyes downcast. “I was… I was a total asshole, and we both know it. I didn’t mean to be. I just?—”

“Goldie—” Cameron started, but Goldie cut her off with a shake of her head.

“No, stop. Please let me say this,” she insisted, taking Cameron’s hands in hers. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Not a single person. Not in recent years, anyway. You treat me like a person, not some…some star. You’ve been so amazing with me, and I’ve started to—” She hesitated and bit her lip. “I think I have feelings for you. Real feelings.”

Cameron’s mind started racing. It felt out of control. This was the moment she’d feared would come. She’d felt it too. Of course she had. But she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, hadn’t wanted to ruin the connection they had. Things seemed easier this way. She knew Goldie was intense, impulsive, a total diva Hollywood superstar. She knew Goldie would hurt her one day.

“Goldie, I,” Cameron stammered as she felt her throat tighten. “I don’t know if I can?—”

The fear of messing everything up overwhelmed her, and before she could think, she pulled away and turned her back on Goldie. The fear in her chest tightened like a vice, and all she could think about was how complicated things would get if they were to allow this to go any further.

There’s just no way…

“Cameron, wait,” she started, stepping toward her, but Cameron was already moving for the door.

It felt like every cell in her body was being flooded with panic.

“I’m sorry,” Cameron muttered, unable to look Goldie in the eye. “I just…I can’t.”

With that, she walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her. The noise of the club hit her full force as she stumbled back into the crowded hallway. She could barely think straight. She needed to get out of there—away from the crew, the stars, the fans, and most of all, away from Goldie. Anxiety, pressure, panic. All taking over her body one sensation after the other.

The bright lights of the club seemed too harsh now. Cameron pushed her way toward the fire exit, ignoring the familiar faces that were trying to grab her attention along the way. All she could focus on was the exit, the neon sign above the door glowing like a beacon in the distance. She needed air. She needed space. She needed out.

Finally, The Orchid was behind her, and she found herself in the dark parking lot, cool air hitting her skin. It felt like an electric shock. The chaos of Goldie and everything around that woman melted away and became quickly replaced by the hum of the city. For a moment, she just stood there, shivering, trying to steady herself.

What just happened?

Goldie had feelings for her—real, romantic feelings. And she had run from that?

She trotted down to the street below, down a urine-soaked staircase littered with trash.

As she stood on the curb, waiting for a cab to show up. She needed thinking space. She had never been good at facing her real feelings.

A cab pulled up, and Cameron yanked open the door, sliding inside and giving the driver her address. She slumped back against the seat, tears beginning to form and her head pounding from the stress of the situation, but just as the car began to pull away, she heard a muffled voice calling her name.

“Cam! Wait up!”

She turned to see Goldie running after her, her face frantic, eyes wide as she tottered down the sidewalk in four-inch heels. The flash of cameras went off as Goldie hurried toward the cab, calling Cameron’s name again, her voice rising above the noise.

Where the hell did the paparazzi come from?

Cameron felt so sorry at the sight of Goldie, but then fear gripped her again and she froze and leaned back in her seat. She couldn’t face this. Not now, not like this. She muttered an apology under her breath and told the driver to go.

The cab pulled away from the curb, and Cameron watched Goldie’s figure get smaller and smaller as she turned and looked through the back windshield, her heart sinking deeper with each passing second. Goldie was standing there in the middle of the street, surrounded by photographers who’d come out of nowhere. All Cameron could see was the hurt and confusion written across her face.

A part of her wanted to go back and explain, to tell Goldie that she felt the same way but was just too scared to admit it. She just couldn’t face it. Before she knew it, the cab had rounded the corner, and that was the end of that.

The drive back to her apartment went by in a blur, the city lights flashing past in a rainbow of color. Cameron’s mind was somewhere else entirely. She replayed Goldie’s confession over and over again in her head—the kiss, the way Goldie had taken her hand.

Why did I run?

Her fear of vulnerability, of getting hurt, had taken over. But now, it felt like everything was slipping through her fingers.

By the time the cab pulled up outside her building, Cameron’s eyes felt heavy and a pang of regret weighed on her heart. She paid the driver and stepped out into the night.

Had she ever really felt this way about anyone before? No was the long and short of it. Not with such depth, not with such rawness. And that was what scared her the most. Because falling for Goldie meant opening herself up to the possibility of getting hurt, and Cameron wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. She never had been, so why would it have changed?

With a heavy sigh, Cameron unlocked her door and stepped inside. Her apartment felt lonely and quiet. She leaned against the door for a moment before making her way to the couch and collapsing onto the cushions.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, half-expecting it to be a message from Goldie. But it wasn’t. It was a notification from social media, her mentions lighting up with tags and comments. Her stomach twisted as she realized what it was: photos of Goldie outside the club standing on the street.

The paparazzi had caught it all. There was her name alongside Goldie’s. All in black and white.

Fuck.

Cameron groaned, tossing her phone onto the coffee table and burying her face in her hands. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll make things right.