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I’m upstairs in less than ten minutes. I grab my laptop, which seems to be getting as much use as it did at Nighthawk Security. At least, this time, I’m doing something I want to do.

I pull up my software to hack back into the hotel, this time going for their security instead of human resources. It doesn’t take me long to pull up the feeds. The hard part will be pinpointing the time. Cam was with me all day, for more than eight hours. I rub my hands down my face, grab a bottle of water, and settle in for a long night.

When I see the lighting in the parking garage, I already know the security feed is going to be nothing but garbage. “Jesus, what’s the fucking point?” I say to my laptop. I speed things up until I see people walk in and out of the elevator or stairwell. I can see hints of shadows, but other than that, it’s useless.

I sit for what seems like hours, and when I look at the time on my phone, I see it’s one o’clock in the morning. I’ll have to work on this tomorrow night. As much as I want to leave this up and running, I can’t. I back out of their system, clean my tracks, and close my computer.

The feeling of restlessness takes over my body, my mind not shutting down. It’s going over so many different scenarios. Does she have an ex-boyfriend? All of her pictures on her social media point to an obvious answer. No. That leads to the next possibility. Was her car in the wrong place at the wrong time? Truth be told, that’s what I’m hoping and praying for. It also leads to the last possibility. Does someone have a vendetta when it comes to Cam?

What would have happened to her if I wasn’t there tonight with her? Would she have walked home or called a cab? That thought makes my gut sink. There are too many variables that could go wrong at any time of day, but add into it being dark out? Anything is possible.

Needing to take a deep breath, I make my way to the sliding glass door. Maybe the salt air will clear my mind enough to get me a few hours of sleep tonight. For some reason, I doubt that will happen.

My thoughts take me back to earlier today, the way Cam smiled when I did something small for her. Hell, even opening the door for her gave her a look of pure joy. The way she came apart on top of me in the truck, I want her more than ever. This going slow shit is going to be hard, but for Cam, I’ll do it.

I sit on the couch, going over everything I need to get done first thing in the morning. Cam’s car is first, and then I’ll make a few appointments to look at some homes. Though something tells me the first one Cam and I saw will be the one I pick. Her face lit up when she saw the yard and how it was on the water. Yeah, I already know what will happen if I get my way. Cam won’t ever want or need to leave my side once she’s firmly entrenched in my life.

The salt air does what I need. I close everything down, shower, and slide into a bed that isn’t mine without the woman I want curled into my side. It doesn’t stop me from dreaming of it, though.

Chapter Ten

Cameron

I kicked ass on my clinical today. I wasn’t sure what would happen after last night, and then with only getting an hour to study before Easton got to my place earlier today. True to my word, I had a cup of coffee ready to go for him.

On the way to school, he let me know where my car was, and he was hoping it would be ready by the time he picked me up after school today. Though that just isn’t my luck. I’m returning to my house with Easton, empty-handed as far as my car is concerned. It sucks, but there isn’t much I can do about it.

“You want to come in while I change? I won’t take too long,” I offer.

“As much as I’d love to come into your house, I can’t. Not yet, at least, especially knowing you’re changing in a room that only has a door between the two of us.” At the heat behind Easton’s words, and the way I can see his green eyes smolder, I don’t push the subject.

“In that case, I’ll be right back.” I kiss the underside of Easton’s jaw before jumping out of his truck, closing the door, and rushing inside my house.

Today, I had to wear my school uniform—shapeless, dreadful blue scrubs. Oh well, I’ll have to get used to it. Well, maybe not the color, but definitely scrubs.


Tags: Tory Baker Erotic