The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(72)
“Fuck off, joint first. I’m the best and you know it! Oh, and thanks for telling everyone about mine and Ash’s sex life. I’ve got Bailey on my case now, asking about how he can convince Sam to let him watch while she gets it on with another bird.” I smile and shake my head. My cheeks flush as I think about what I did in Australia.
“What the f*ck. Marls? What is it about men and threesomes? Why does every man want to watch his missus with another bird?” I look at Cam, his face expressionless, his eyes on the road, but there’s just something about the set of his jaw that makes me think that he’s not enjoying this conversation.
“Why do dogs bark and wheels go round, George? It’s the same answer; they just do. I don’t know why. That’s just the way it is. Anyway, I’m not having this convo with my little sister as she drives off to spend the night with a bloke with a nine-inch dick.”
I can’t resist winding him up, “It’s nine and a half actually and I love it. Gotta go. Love ya guts, bye.” I end the call and look at Cam who has one eyebrow raised as he gives me a quick glance.
“You really just had that conversation with your brother?”
I smile as I think about the look Marley would have had on his face as I said that. “It’s Marley. He’s my best friend.”
He nods. “You’re lucky to have them all.”
“I know. Going away made me realise how close we are, but it also made me realise how reliant I am on all of them and I need to stand on my own two feet. I need to find my own place to live and move out.” I’ve been thinking about it since I first arrived in Australia, and now I’m home, I need to do something about it.
“Move in with me.” Seriously, did he just say that?
“What?”
“Move in with me.”
“Cam, I… No, we still have a lot of things to talk about. I don’t even know where you live, and no, just no.”
He shrugs like it’s exactly the answer he was expecting and says simply, “We’ll see.” I’m not in the mood for getting into an argument with him so I simply ask him again where he lives. “Docklands, not far from the club in Shoreditch. My office is there now too.” I nod, but I’m not sure if he can see me in the dark. I’m suddenly overcome with tiredness and close my eyes for a few seconds.
Chapter Sixteen
Cam
I have no idea why I did that. What the f*ck was I thinking?
I do love her, like I told her, like I told her whole f*cking family. I love the f*ck out of her, but I’ve no right standing up in front of all of them and making promises I don’t know if I can keep.
I’ve pulled up on the side of the road and called Benny to go and check out my place. I’m worried that the paps will be waiting for us there. I don’t know if they realised it was me in the car with her, but I’m sure it won’t take much for the f*ckers to find out. I yawn quietly. It’s so warm in the car; it’s making me feel tired, but I can’t have Kitten getting cold. I turn and look at her sleeping in the passenger seat next to me. She’s laid the seat back a bit and pulled her knees up, turned on her side and is facing me. My stomach churns and my heart rate speeds up and all I’ve done is look at her. I’m f*cked, completely f*cked where she’s concerned. She ruined me once and she has the potential to do it again, and I don’t know if I’d come back from it this time.
She was just a girl back then, a beautiful twenty-year–old, who thought she knew everything about love and life, and really, she had no f*cking idea. Mind you, who am I to talk? I’m forty-f*cking–two. I’ve just stood up in front of all her family, like a prick, and declared my undying love for her. I must’ve sounded like a complete Muppet. If I ever find out Bailey Layton tells anyone about what was said at Frank’s house today, I’ll have his balls, and I don’t care who it pisses off.
I yawn again and look at my phone. It’s only seven, but the warmth of the car and the jet lag are having an effect on me now too. All I want is to get her naked and in my bed. I don’t even care about f*cking her. I just want to feel her skin on mine. I give a silent little laugh; that’s complete bullshit. I can’t wait to bury myself inside her. I’ve f*cked a lot of women over the years, a lot of women, but none have tasted as good or felt as perfect to be inside as Georgia. I wish I could explain. I wish I could get my own head around what it is about her. She’s beautiful, yeah, that goes without saying. Her eyes are the most amazing shade of blue and in complete contrast to her dark hair and skin. She’s actually a bit skinnier than how I like my women, and to be honest, at the moment, I’d go as far as saying she’s actually bony, but she’s been through a lot and it’s obviously taken its toll. I know how that works. I have half an idea of what she’s been through this last year, but only half. I didn’t love Chantelle the way she loved Sean. She was obsessed with that boy. It’s like, she thought she needed him to breathe, yet here she is, surviving, getting by without him and herein lies my problem. How do I compete with a dead bloke, a f*cking superstar rocker, loved and worshipped by millions, none more so than his wife? How do I compete with that? I can’t. I’m always gonna be second best. I’m always gonna wonder if we’re together just because he died. I’m not bitter towards him, Sean, in all honesty. I love the girl that much, that I would gladly die in his and their baby’s place, just to bring the light back into her eyes.