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The Paid Bridesmaid(51)

Author:Sariah Wilson

“That’s not what’s happening here.” Time for me to go and get clear of all this mess.

I made sure my key was in my pocket and headed for the door, letting myself out into the hallway. I texted Troy, telling him the job was finished. When I reached the elevators, I realized that I hadn’t quite thought out my great escape plan. Camden approached and stood behind me, nearly touching me.

“Excuse me,” he breathed, his words hot against the back of my neck. It sent shivers of delight skating across my skin. Then he leaned forward, not quite touching me, but it was like I could feel every single cell of his strong frame surrounding me as he pushed the elevator button to go up.

He stayed put, somehow sucking up all of the oxygen surrounding us so that I couldn’t quite catch my breath. I thought I felt his nose against my hair, like he was breathing me in, but I didn’t know for sure. What I did know was that having him so close overwhelmed all of my senses, making them go haywire.

All I had to do was turn around. Just turn around and push up slightly and I’d be kissing him. It would be so easy.

I’d never wanted anything more in my entire life.

The bell sounded and the doors opened.

I let out a deep breath that I hadn’t been aware I’d been holding. Sadie’s stepdad and his fiancée were on the elevator, their arms crossed, her expression angry and his apologetic.

Camden sent me a “what’s going on?” look and I shrugged as we stepped inside. He pushed the button for our floor. Even though their mad vibes were uncomfortable, I was glad they were here. I definitely should not be alone with Camden in this tiny space. I’d seen too many music videos and perfume commercials so that I had a pretty good idea of the kind of trouble we could get into in an elevator.

“If you just let me explain,” Geoff said, and Maybelle immediately hushed him. I wanted to exchange another silent conversation with Camden about what was happening behind us, but figured it was better to keep my eyes trained straight ahead.

Geoff and Maybelle’s floor came up first, and Maybelle pushed past us, without saying a word. I heard Geoff say, “Sweetheart, wait . . . ,” and then the doors slid shut.

“What was that? Why do you think Maybelle was so angry?” Camden asked.

“Maybe he forgot to buy her the new Furby.” At his confused face I said, “What? That’s what I played with when I was a kid. I don’t know what girls her age are into.”

“Older men, apparently.”

I would not be swayed by his wit and charm. I would not.

The elevator doors opened and we started for our rooms. Rooms, plural, I reminded myself. “Do you think if Maybelle gets really mad she’s going to uninvite him to the prom?”

He laughed and then said, “I don’t know if she’ll go that far. Then she might have to give back her life-sized Barbie Dream Car.”

“You joke, but I could see her driving a pink convertible. I mean, if she has her license.”

We stopped in front of our rooms. Once again, his laughter, his jokes, had disarmed me and I’d forgotten myself. So much for my resolve to not ever be alone with him.

Although it wasn’t actually my fault—we were both going to the exact same place at the exact same time.

It was kind of my fault, though, for standing out here in the hallway with him instead of heading into my room.

“Here we are again,” he said.

“Yes,” I agreed, wondering why I was still standing there. “Just like last night. Only this time I promise not to spew all over the place like Mount Vesuvius.”

I thought that might make him laugh, ease the tension a little, but it wasn’t working. He moved closer. “And last night, you wanted to kiss me.”

His words slammed into my chest, interfering with my heart’s ability to beat. His nearness, his clean scent, was scrambling my brain and making my gut all tingly. “Why . . . I didn’t . . . that’s not . . . what would make you think that?”

I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Another non-answer. For the record, I wanted to kiss you, too. But I was trying to be respectful, given your situation.”

Why did my throat feel so thick? And why couldn’t I catch my breath? “Why are you being like this?” I asked.

“Like what?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

I gestured vaguely in his direction, not able to get my currently too-heavy limbs to respond correctly. “Like this. Nothing can happen between us.”

“Dan is not the boss of me.”

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