Down London Road (On Dublin Street 2) - Page 45

And what I really wanted to do was Cameron MacCabe.

I checked on Cole and found him sleeping peacefully in his room. I even checked on Mum just to make sure she hadn’t choked on her own vomit or anything like that, and I found her snoring away. That done, I changed into my PJs and crawled into bed. But I couldn’t fall asleep.

My blood felt as if it was on fire in my veins, my nerves were sparking at the very ends, and I couldn’t get the smell of Cam’s cologne out of my nostrils.

I was so turned on, it wasn’t funny.

How different would my night have been if Cam had followed me into Su’s office when I’d gone in there to leave her new stock information? What if he’d come up behind me, pushed my hair off my neck, and pressed his hot mouth to my skin as his hand skimmed around my waist and down to the buttons on my jeans …

… if he’d undone them, his long fingers sliding inside, beneath my underwear …

My own hand smoothed over my stomach, slipping under my pyjamas and knickers so I could bring myself to climax, fantasizing about Cam screwing me against Su’s desk.

I muffled my moan as I came and once the tremors stopped, I curled into my side, guilt cascading over me once again.

I was a terrible girlfriend.

13

A truth I hadn’t been willing to face pushed its way to the forefront of my life over the next few weeks. The truth was, for a number of years now every day had been the same – had been constrained, dulled, vivid colours muted beneath the shadow of a wall. And behind that wall I walked in the same uniform every day – if I wanted to be really melodramatic, I’d call it a dull orange jumpsuit. But as the days of those few weeks flew by, I felt that uniform melting away, shredding into tatters and scraped from my body as I climbed the wall to the other side.

The wall was moving further away now, the shadow lifting, the colours brightening.

All because I was spending time with Cam.

We hung out as much as possible on weekdays. Every night, in fact, he’d stop by for coffee or dinner before his work shift, even if I was out with Malcolm. We walked back and forth to work together, and had a laugh with Joss during our shifts. I didn’t see him at the weekends because he worked, trained at judo class with his friends and hung out with Becca. Last time, he’d taken Cole to watch the class, encouraging Cole to do more physical activity, and surprisingly, my brother was embracing the idea. My ears were bleeding from hearing about judo.

For me, Cam was a confidant. I told him more about my life and my hopes for Cole’s future. For Cole, Cam was a soul mate. They drew comics together, they discussed comics together, they liked the same music, the same movies, and from what I could read between the lines, Cam also answered all those questions Cole wouldn’t dare ask me.

We became this family unit, bonding quickly and strongly.

My feelings for Cam only grew deeper and I was in a constant battle with my conscience, arguing with it, pretending that it didn’t mean anything. Along with the emotional stuff, my body was almost at breaking point for want of him. I don’t know how I managed to hide it from him, but I did. I didn’t want anything to destroy our friendship.

That didn’t mean I didn’t find other outlets for my pent-up sexual frustration, and that outlet only added a whole other level of guilt and shame to my already considerable stack. I hadn’t seen Malcolm as much as I usually did, but three of the four times I did see him, we had sex … and the three times we had sex I …

… I did the unthinkable. I closed my eyes and imagined Cam.

I came each time.

Malcolm took this to mean he and I were back on track and whatever had been bothering me before was dealt with.

I was an awful, awful person.

Yup. My world was full of colour. Red for want. Yellow for shame.

Green for jealousy.

Yes, the green-eyed monster had also reared her ugly head in the last few weeks. Every time Cam mentioned Becca’s name I felt that little ache in my chest, an ache that ruptured into a full-blown bleed on Sunday.

Cole and I had had lunch with the Nicholses and had come home in a good mood. Cole had gone downstairs to invite Cam up for coffee and I was humming away like an idiot, my stomach already a riot of fluttery winged creatures in anticipation of seeing him, when Cole came back into the flat unaccompanied.

I frowned at him as I poured Cam’s coffee. ‘Is he just coming?’

Cole shook his head, his brows drawn together in what I took for bemusement.

‘Not in?’

He shrugged.

Oh, dear God, the shrugging had returned. ‘Well?’

He leaned against the kitchen counter and sighed before he shot me a questioning look. ‘Are you and Cam just friends?’

I coughed up the lie quite easily these days. ‘Of course. I’m with Malcolm. Why?’

Two spots of colour appeared high on Cole’s cheeks and his mouth quirked up at the corners in amusement. ‘Because it definitely sounds like Cam’s too busy shagging some noisy bird to want to have coffee with us.’

My whole body froze as I stared at my brother, my heart pounding, a horribly uneasy feeling in my stomach as jealousy seized hold of me.

‘Jo?’

I frowned, grasping at a reason for my freeze. ‘Don’t say “shagging” and don’t say “bird”. Not “bird”, “chick”, “piece”. We’re “women” or “ladies” or “girls”.’

Cole grunted. ‘Thanks for the vocab lesson.’

I stared after him as he took off for the living room, my good mood annihilated by the thought of Cam and Becca having sex.

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