18 Chapter 18

Life Lessons According to Camryn:

Most of the time, life doesn't pass me by, it tries to run me over.

Camryn sat on the bed alone, biting her thumbnail, waiting for Troy to return. She wanted to erase that look on his face she'd put there in the hospital. She'd always thought Troy was too laid back to take anything seriously. Maybe he hid his guilt as well as she hid her discontent.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the room. She'd seen him outside and had turned on the lamp so he'd know she was awake. They hadn't been left alone since the hospital. What she had to say was for his ears only.

He came in a few minutes later, glanced at her, then pulled off his damp shirt. Every time he took his shirt off she wanted to run her hands over his chest to see what it felt like. All that hard muscle and smooth, tanned skin. As her skin heated, he stood next to the bed, staring at it like he didn't know what to do next.

"I didn't mean what I said, Troy." He said nothing, just kept staring at his side of the bed. "Look at me." When he did, she almost broke out in tears at his lost expression. "It wasn't funny, and I'm sorry."

In the seconds that ticked by as they looked at each other, she remembered lying in bed one night as a kid, listening to Troy's cries through the wall. A stupid kid, she'd wracked her brain trying to think of a way to make him feel better. She'd never experienced that kind of sadness. Her parents were odd, but they'd never hurt her. How terrible it must have been to have the one person who was supposed to love you hate you so much.

She'd snuck into the bedroom he'd shared with Fisher and found her brother asleep. Troy had quickly wiped his face and sat up from the bottom bunk. Not wanting to embarrass him, she'd walked to the shelf and pulled out a blue Matchbox pickup truck, handing the toy to him. Take this to remind you one day you'll be old enough to drive away, she'd whispered. It's not your fault.

She didn't think she had helped him back then, and she probably wouldn't now either. "It's not your fault."

He flinched. Blinked and swallowed. His gaze whipped to the patio doors, then over her body. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I'm fine, Troy." He needed to know that, so she repeated it. "I'm fine."

"Does anything hurt? Do you need more meds?"

"No and no. I'm fine."

One corner of his mouth quirked. He looked at the doors again, probably remembering the kiss they'd shared the other night. Knowing Troy, he was most likely trying to take a scrub brush to his brain to forget.

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?"

She sighed. "Troy-"

He came around to her side of the bed and looked down at her. "Just answer the question."

"No, I'm--"

"Fine," he said. "Good."

Before she even knew what the heck happened, he picked her up and set her over his shoulder. Visions of him needing spine surgery flashed before her eyes. "Put me down. You're going to end up in the ER, too."

He carried her to the patio doors, opened them, and deposited her on the balcony in the rain. She made a dash past him to get inside, but his arm snaked around her waist and set her right back. His palm came up as he filled the doorway, telling her to stay. In his other hand he pushed buttons on his cell.

"I'm not amused, Troy. Let me inside."

"Singing in the Rain" began playing from his phone. He turned up the volume and set the cell on a nearby dresser. "Dance," he ordered.

By now, she was soaking wet and resembling a sodden sloth. "Excuse me?"

He grinned, and her heart dropped solidly to her stomach. Damn that smile of his.

"Dance, Cam. It's on the list. I'm not letting you inside until you do."

Her jaw dropped. He wasn't serious. First, wishing on stars. Then, scaring the ever-living crap out of her with that movie. Now this? "No. This is--"

"Stupid," he finished. "I know. Do it anyway."

She crossed her arms over her chest to hide her breasts. And to disobey. He stepped into the rain with her and took her hand, wrapping his arm around her waist. Spinning in a dizzying waltz, he lead them around the tiny balcony while singing a terrible rendition of Gene Kelly's famous song.

Trying her best to hang like a limp noodle, she eventually gave up and started laughing. She wrapped her arms around his waist and danced. He was bonafide nuts. And she was getting there by allowing him to do this.

The song ended and he stopped, but her giggles couldn't be quashed. This wasn't only stupid, is was insane.

And, God help her, it felt good.

Thunder cracked overhead as he looked down his nose at her. His hair was shades darker from the storm, his eyes darker yet. Rain poured off his face and onto hers. She stopped laughing and stared back. Stopped breathing.

That's when she realized her hands were trapped between her sopping shirt and his bare chest. Wet, bare, hard chest. She looked at her fingers sprawled over his skin, and just once, just to know what it felt like, she brushed her fingertips over his pecs. His heartbeat thumped hard beneath her palm. Despite the heat radiating inside her, he shivered as if he were cold, but he made no attempt to let her go.

Under her hand, his heart rate sped as they continued to stare at each other. A muscle ticked in his jaw. What was he thinking?

She was thinking they were going to catch pneumonia. Then her family could bitch about that. But what she wanted was his mouth over hers again. She wanted that more than anything she'd ever wanted before. The impractical side she never let escape needed him to make a move. To make her feel like she was a desirable woman worthy of kissing on a balcony in the rain. She'd never felt such a primal passion before. In her past relationships, there had been attraction, but not like this. Troy wasn't her boyfriend. They weren't a couple.

She made an attempt to step away, but he held firm. He brought his hand up to brush a strand of wet hair from her cheek as his Adam's apple bobbed.

Bending his knees, he lifted her just enough to back her into the bedroom and set her down. Her heart rate sped, hoping he'd-

Drop his arms like she'd electrocuted him. No, that definitely wasn't what she'd had in mind.

"Check that off the list," he said. "You danced in the rain." Turning, he closed the balcony doors and walked to the bathroom.

She didn't so much as blink until she heard his shower running.

Heat drained from her body, replacing the unfamiliar warmth and optimism with her usual emptiness.