How to Misbehave (Camelot 1)

“No, it’s true. You look like you know what you want. Like the way you seem to think I am.” A pause. “This chair is wicked uncomfortable.”

Metal scraped against the floor, and he rustled around for a moment. She felt him move closer, then farther away.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to sit by the wall. Want to join me?”

“Sure.” The chair was getting kind of painful. She stood and pushed it aside. “I don’t want to trip over you.”

“I’ve got my hand out.”

She waved her arm around until she connected with skin. Soft hair and hard muscle. His forearm. She followed it down to his wrist, then his hand.

His fingers wrapped around hers, damp but strong, and he used his grip to guide her to the right spot. “Sit right there.”

She sank to the ground. Her thigh brushed his, and she moved over a few inches to lean against the cold cement wall.

“Better?”

“Better.”

She took a few moments to get used to the new position. It felt cooler, the chill of the concrete moving through the backs of her thighs. Closer to him, too. More intimate.

“How are you doing now?” she asked. “With the dark, I mean.”

“I’m hanging in. Keep talking to me.”

“Why do you hate it so much?”

She felt his shrug as a disturbance against her shoulder. “There weren’t a lot of dark places at my house growing up, or a lot of alone time. I’m not real fond of either.”

It didn’t feel like a complete answer. She waited, hoping she’d get more from him.

He sighed. “It’s easier to ignore all the bad shit in the light. Distract yourself with work and TV and other people. The dark is just … bad memories. Bad dreams. I don’t like to be left alone with all that.”

Trouble, Rosalie had said. Amber remembered her mother’s question, cut off before she could complete it. Is he the one who …?

Whatever had happened to Tony—whatever he did or didn’t do—it had left its mark on him.

“I hate spiders,” she volunteered.

“All girls hate spiders.”

“I don’t mind the little ones. Just the big, hairy ones.”

“I hate them, too. But don’t tell anybody.”

“It’ll be our little secret.”

“You any good at keeping secrets?”

“Should’ve asked me before you told me your secrets.”

“Yeah.”

She pulled up her knees and leaned her head back against the wall. “What are you most afraid of?”

“I’ve already told you two things that scare me. If you think I’m going to make you a list, you don’t know men.”