Bender (The Core Four #1)(17)
“My older brother is Turner, and my youngest brother is Wrigley.”
I grinned. “Some pretty unique names. So your parents named everything after baseball?”
“Something like that.” He regarded me with wary eyes. “Is it my turn?”
I glanced down at my coffee cup. Steam was still rising from the surface of the liquid. “Your turn for what?”
“To ask questions.”
My heart picked up its pace. “What do you want to know?”
A look of mischief danced behind his eyes. “Why such a large age gap between you and your little sister?”
I really didn’t want to talk about my family, my mom in particular, but he’d divulged some information so I guess I needed to reciprocate. “My mom got pregnant with me when she was still in high school. My sperm donor—” he cocked an eyebrow at the term, “—left after she told him of my impending arrival. My mom raised me by herself, and then twelve years later she told me Sarah was on the way.”
I didn’t know if he was expecting more, but I had no intentions of going further. “Is she your only sibling?”
I nodded. His body shifted as he reached for his cup of black coffee, and I openly watched the way each muscle bunched under his skin. His eyes narrowed, and I knew he saw me checking him out. “So, what do you know about The Dugout?” His change of subject gave me pause. Between our very unusual conversation, and him actually being sort of nice, I felt almost put off.
“Well, I’ve only really heard about it. Macie had a membership there not too long ago. She was trying to get the attention of a guy who was going there, but it ended up not working out. Anyway she cancelled it because she didn’t want to run into him again and the girl doesn’t need to exercise. Her body is already pretty perfect.”
He curled his lip as though something I said left a bad taste in his mouth. “First of all, going to a gym to get a guy’s attention is just stupid. And second, I don’t care what you look like, everyone should work out.”
I shifted in my chair. This topic felt more taboo than telling him all the ins and outs of my mom’s sorted affairs. I was already insecure with myself, but when you couple that with the Adonis standing across from me and eyeing me like he meant that comment for me, I bristled.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He took a step forward, as though he knew I’d spar with him over the subject. “Exactly what I said, you can be skinny, tall, short, healthy, out of shape, or fat; everyone should be working out.”
Was it me, or did my ears pick up on his emphasis on the word ‘fat’? I knew I was probably overreacting, but suddenly I wanted this fight. “Why does it sound like your words are a jab in my direction, Camden?”
He jerked back slightly. “What? I was making a general statement. What are you being so sensitive about?”
I rolled my eyes and hopped down from the stool. Rounding the counter I tossed the rest of my coffee in the sink. “Oh give me a break! I heard you the day I signed those papers, and I’ve seen the way you look at me. I get it okay? I know I’m not thin, and I don’t have the best diet. But who in the hell are you to judge me for how I live my life? If I wanted to put my fat ass in a gym, I’d be squatting with the rest of those skinny girls you bring home.”
I hadn’t realized that I had moved to stand directly in front of him. My stance was completely confrontational, and my hands were shaking in anger. His brown eyes looked menacing as he stared me down.
“I don’t know what kind of insecure little girl issues you have going on in your pretty little blond head, but my words were not directed at you. If I have something to say to you, I’d say it.”
Pretty? I glowered at him. “You know what?” I stopped to regain my composure. Taking a deep breath in through my nose, I closed my eyes and then reopened them. “Just forget this conversation ever happened. It’s obvious that you and I are incapable of being friends. I don’t want to live the next eleven months in a house with someone who is cruel and judgmental. So do me a favor. When you see me just pretend I’m not here. I’ll stay out of your way, if you stay out of mine.” I turned to march upstairs. Before I thought about it any longer, I flipped back around, my hair flying into my face. I was certain I looked like a mad woman. “And another thing, I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop bringing your stick figured, zero percent body fat, fake boob, airhead bimbos in my house. And yes, it’s also my house. I have a contract that says so.” Boom. Now I was done. He said nothing after my rant, and I stormed upstairs and slammed my bedroom door. Sitting on my air mattress, I tried to calm my breathing.
In the few minutes that passed, I tried swallowing down the large lump that was forming in my throat. I’d really gone off the deep end. I let my image issue get the best of me. But I had a feeling that it was more than just me picking a fight with him. From the time I moved in here, the air had been tense between us. The pressure was too much, and I was buckling. I truly enjoyed having my independence and living here despite my few run-ins with Camden. I couldn’t break now and say ‘screw it’ and move back in with my mom. I would make this work. I just wasn’t sure how I was going to feel around Camden after my little episode downstairs. And I hated the way he made me feel like I was under a microscope when he was in the same room with me. I knew that had to be mostly in my head, but I’d always put people like him up on a pedestal, which only served to make me feel bad about myself. That had to stop, right…now! He was a normal person, just like I was.