Down London Road (On Dublin Street 2)

‘Jo, you okay?’ he asked, his eyebrows drawn together in concern.

I marvelled that I was now looking my brother in the eye. I wished he wasn’t so tall for his age; it would at least allow me to pretend he wasn’t growing up if he still looked like a wee boy. However, height or no height, nothing could diminish his intuitiveness. It was a part of who he was, it was a part of our relationship – he knew me too well. I shrugged. ‘I’m okay.’

Cole stuck his hands in his jeans, hunching over, his head bowed towards me, his eyes searching mine. ‘Is there something I should know?’

‘I’m just feeling a little off. It’s a girl thing,’ I reassured him with a soft smile. ‘Now go. Hang out with your friends and be immature. Responsible,’ I added hurriedly, ‘but immature.’

He made a face. ‘Do those two go hand in hand?’

‘If your immaturity can lead to consequences, then it’s irresponsible.’

Cole grunted. ‘You should write that shi– stuff down.’

‘I heard the “shit” in there, baby boy, and I’m stealing the last Pop-Tart as punishment.’

‘Harsh, Jo.’ He shook his head, backing off with a smile. ‘Harsh.’

I rolled my eyes and gave him a little wave before I left him there, hoping to use the walk back home to bolster my courage.

By the time I was standing outside Cam’s door I was pretty sure I was ready to call him on his bullshit. Having already texted him to let him know I was on my way, I didn’t bother to knock. ‘It’s me,’ I called as I stepped inside and shut the door.

‘In here.’

I followed his voice to the sitting room and was surprised to find that Nate was with him. Even more surprising, the telly wasn’t on. Glancing down at the coffee mugs and the half-eaten sandwiches from the local deli, it was clear that Nate had stopped by for a chat.

My heart thumped.

Uh-oh. That couldn’t be good, right?

‘Hey, Nate.’ I smiled tremulously.

‘Jo. Looking gorgeous as always, babe.’ He grinned at me, dusting the crumbs off his fingers.

I didn’t know how to greet Cam. After our encounter with Blair, he hadn’t touched me. Cam, who didn’t seem to be able to breathe without touching me, hadn’t placed a single fingertip upon me. No handholding, no waist squeezing, no affectionate neck nuzzles. I didn’t think I’d been in his company once since we started dating without him giving me a neck nuzzle.

Not really feeling in the mood to be rejected by his sudden disinclination to touch me, I didn’t go over to him to kiss him like I normally would. I just stood there awkwardly, gazing at him. He didn’t look the least hungover, the lucky bastard. ‘How are you feeling?’

Cameron didn’t answer me right away. In fact, for what felt like the longest moment, he sat there cradling his coffee mug in his hand as his eyes roamed my face, drinking in every single feature. Slowly, a smile stretched his lips, the tenderness in his gaze causing an ache to blossom in my chest. ‘A lot better, baby. A lot better.’

There seemed to be more behind his words than an update on his physical health. I just couldn’t work out what it was.

‘Well, my work here is done.’ Nate clapped his hands on his knees and stood up.

I followed his movements, completely confused. ‘What work?’

‘Oh.’ He shook his head, smirking like he had a secret. ‘Feeding brewery boy over there.’ Still smiling, Nate approached me and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, his dark eyes glittering happily as he pulled back. ‘Always good to see you, Jo. Catch you later.’

‘ ’Bye,’ I answered quietly, stunned by his affection, confused by his and Cam’s mysterious behaviour, and wondering what the hell I’d walked into.

‘See you, mate,’ Cam called to him, and Nate waved to him, then left us in the quiet emptiness of the flat.

My nose wrinkled in bemusement, I turned back to Cam. ‘What was that all about?’

Cam shook his head, setting his mug down on the coffee table. ‘He just came around for a chat.’ His lips tilted up at the corners. ‘Why are you still over there when I’m over here?’ He curled a finger, beckoning me towards him with a sexy confidence that immediately set off little green flags in all my erogenous zones. The revving of my sexual engines purred in my ears, the flags waving, ready to drop …

I physically shook myself, attempting to remind myself that I came here to talk to him, not to throw myself at him at the first opportunity. Just because Cam was suddenly feeling all nice and affectionate didn’t mean I had to give in to him. I wanted answers about his behaviour yesterday.

Didn’t I?

‘Jo?’ Cam raised an eyebrow. ‘Get over here, babe.’

‘No.’ I jutted my chin out, my eyes narrowed on him. What kind of game was he playing with me? ‘If you want me, come and get me.’

A low growl was the last thing I heard before he moved, at surprising speed for a hungover person. One minute he’d been in the armchair, the next he was on the other side of the room, his body pressing me back on to his work desk. Manhandling me a little roughly, he gripped my thighs, wrapping my legs around his hips so he could grind his erection into me. I clung to him, my hands on his waist, my head thrown back in instant pleasure as he nuzzled my neck.

‘Cam,’ I groaned, trying to remember what the point in my visit had been as he thrust his hips, the denim around his hard-on rubbing against the seam between the legs of my own jeans. I panted, wet and needful. What was going … what were we … what?