Into You Series: The Complete Collection

27. Cameron

CHAPTER 27

CAMERON

O nce they take Hank back for his procedure, Grace and I are left in a comically large waiting room without a single other soul for a little over an hour.

I look over to Grace as she works. Her delicate hands move deftly across the screen, and I can see the gears turning. I take a deep breath and look ahead at my laptop, clicking through email after email.

The door to the room opens and in walks Hank, his tail wagging a bit slower than usual. Grace stands up and goes to him, crouching down and petting his head. The love she has for him practically radiates off her.

“He’ll need these,” the doctor says, handing Grace some pills. “And the back”—the doctor gestures to his own gums—“will need to have gauze every couple hours until the bleeding stops. Keep an eye on him and come back in a week. Katie will schedule your next visit up front.”

I pack up my things while Grace makes an appointment at the front desk. By the time I meet her up there, she’s ready to head out.

“If you need a couple days off, feel free,” I say. “Or work from home. Whichever makes sense.”

We leave the building, and she pauses, looking from side to side. Her face contorts into a mix of exhaustion and despair with a full dollop of irritation.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she snaps, letting out a long, raspy groan. “Ugh!”

“What?”

“My car.” She throws her hands in the air. “It’s gone. Towed. I knew I shouldn’t have parked there.”

I’m questioning my next sentence, but it comes out anyway. “Do you need a ride?”

Good job, idiot. Yes, let’s definitely give the hot employee a ride home alone. Way to go.

Grace looks over to me, cringing a little. I’m sure she feels the same awkwardness I do. It was a dumb suggestion. “No, no, I can find a ride or something.”

Yep, you’re a genius for making this weird.

And yet I continue. “Well, you have one right here.”

Stop it! What are you doing?

“No really, I …” She hesitates then shakes her head and laughs as if shaking off doubt. “Sure, yeah. And you don’t mind?”

Do I mind? Not at all. I definitely don’t mind having the woman I desperately want to sleep with but can’t because it’s absolutely forbidden sitting next to me in a close environment. No, I don’t mind one bit.

“Not a problem.” I smack a smile on my face and lead the way to my car.

You idiot.

As we ride down the road—her giving me instructions here and there—I wonder what the hell has happened to me. She’s funny, feisty, and wears tops that almost always give a glimpse down her shirt, which I am very grateful for. But I went from hating her to being her friend? When did this happen? Oh right. I got drunk and she blackmailed me.

What a charming girl.

Except she is. That’s the worst part. She’s so incredibly adorable and sassy, and I just can’t get enough of her. I feel like I’ve known her forever. She’s hilarious and caring, and I want to punch myself in the face for having these thoughts at all.

I zone out, but then see that we’ve passed by a particular convenience store for the third time.

I look over at Grace, she’s glancing out the cracked open window, her fiery hair billowing around her face.

“Hey, Grace?” I ask. She jumps and looks over to me. “Not to be rude, but are we lost?”

Grace clears her throat and shifts in the passenger seat, adjusting her bag and reaching over to pat Hank whose head is resting on the center console.

“N-no,” she stammers. “Not lost.”

“Then why have I seen Dime-A-Dozen a couple times now?”

She exhales and then concedes, “Just take a right up here.”

I slow down as we approach my complex—the one on the right.

“Here?” I ask, glancing over to her.

She nods, embarrassed.

Did she mean to take us back to my place? Am I misreading signals? I thought we were just co-workers, and yet here I am, being directed back to my own apartment with no words exchanged from the passenger next to me. Is she seriously that bold?

She starts laughing, but I’m pretty sure it’s because she can’t think of anything else to do. Hell, I can’t think of anything either.

“You know I live here,” I say. I don’t want her to think I’m assuming anything. Maybe she meant to come here or maybe she was lost and too proud to say otherwise. “Why did you direct us … to where I live?”

She laughs again and I’m less turned on and more freaked out by each passing chuckle.

“I actually live here, too,” she says.

Wait—what?

“You what?”

She plays with the strap on her bag, buckling and unbuckling it absentmindedly. “I, uh, it’s funny, yeah, I live here.” The words stumble out with confused and awkward laughter.

I’m not laughing back. “Why didn’t you tell me you lived here?”

“I was afraid of what would happen.”

Her blue eyes glance up to me. My stomach drops.

“What?”

“I was more afraid of what we would do,” she says. “No, what I would do if I knew we were this close. It’d be … easy.”

Whether she’s doing it intentionally or not, her eyes dart from my face down to my pants, then back up.

WHAT.

I run my hand through my hair, trying to think of anything else to say without crossing more lines than we already have. I can’t think of a thing.

“But this”—she gestures between the two of us—“can’t happen.”

“Right,” I say, putting the car in park and turning it off. “Right, of course not.”

The silence of the night surrounds us; the only thing I can hear are crickets.

But then, something happens. The entire moment shifts. Before I can process it, Grace grabs my collar and pulls me to her. Our mouths meet and my body lights on fire.

It’s like the world has tilted on its axis. Up is down. Left is right. And my hands are moving over Grace’s shoulders and up to her neck, holding her jaw in my hands. An act that should exist, yet is.

Our mouths are hungry. Desperate. Wanting everything we couldn’t have for months.

She pushes against me, and I push back.

It’s a dance and a fight, just like it always is between us. Sparks of fire fly off our fingertips as we fumble with each other’s clothes, running hands over fabric, gripping them in our fists as we go.

I lick her bottom lip and she welcomes in, inviting my tongue to meet hers. Her mouth is soft. I grip the back of her head, pulling her closer so we can devour each other more.

I need more of it. I need to taste every part of her.

I reach for my seatbelt buckle, fumbling to undo it, but then she pushes against my chest.

And suddenly we’re apart.

Our chests are rising up and down as we try to catch our breath.

“That was stupid,” she says, her voice strained. “That was so dumb. I am so sorry.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” I say. “I … I mean, clearly … I wanted it too.”

We exchange small smiles, and it just feels right.

Everything with her feels that way.

It’s easy to forget how many issues this could cause for both of us.

She averts her eyes, her face flushed. I’ve never seen her like this. Grace is adorable when she’s embarrassed.

Who would have thought?

“We can’t do that again,” she says, shaking her head.

“Of course.”

“But God, do I want to.”

I let out a mix of a laugh and a breath of exasperation.

“You’re killing me, Holmes.”

“It’s just … you know … you’re you ,” she says. “You’re my boss. And I’m your employee.”

I can’t help but laugh again. “We were never really that, were we?”

Her face falls. “We need to be, Cameron.”

We’re quiet; it’s almost too quiet. We’ve never had an issue with awkward silences—even from the first moment I sat down next to her in the front lobby. All that red hair in a short bun, her skirt even shorter. I should have known I was a goner then.

“You’re right,” I say.

“I’m going to work from home for a couple days to be with Hank.” She unbuckles her seatbelt and starts gathering her bags on the passenger floor.

My hands grip the wheel, knuckles whitening.

I can’t find the words to say.

She exits the car, opening the back door to call for Hank. He steps out gingerly, then heads over to the right side of the complex. She climbs the stairs to the second floor and unlocks the door to her place.

For a second, I wonder what decisions could have led to me going in there with her. But I know that nothing would be different than it is now.

Because I’m just her boss. And I can’t be anything else without burning one of our lives to the ground.