me and said, "And I told you, I know."
"Yeah, but—"
"Hang on." And then, almost as an afterthought, he tossed the guy aside, sending him stumbling toward the road. The guy regained his balance for only a moment before slipping and falling hard on his backside.
With a string of curses, he scrambled up and then bolted through the snow, heading in the same direction as his female companion.
I watched for only a moment before I looked back to Mason. As I did, the wind momentarily died down, even as the snow kept falling in big fluffy blobs, lending a Christmas card quality to our surroundings.
The picture would've looked quite serene, if only there weren't two banged-up vehicles and a very ticked-off guy standing just outside the SUV.
He didn't look serene. Far from it.
His gaze locked on mine as he said, "I didn't come for Willow. I came for you."
My breath hitched, and my mouth fell open. I hardly knew what to say. I wasn't even sure what he meant, not for certain.
After all, this wasn't the first time he'd caught me by surprise. It wasn't even the first time he'd come for me, even if that other time – just three months ago – had been a whole lot different.
Chapter 2
Cami
Three Months Earlier
"Oh. My. God." In front of me, Livia's eyes widened as she stared across the small, crowded nightclub.
She was facing the main entrance. I wasn't.
When I turned to look, she lunged for my arm. "Cami, don't!"
At the sound of my name, I stopped in mid-motion. "Don't what?"
"Don't look," she said. "I think he's coming over."
"He?" I turned back to Livia. "He who?"
Her voice grew dreamy. "A total freaking hottie."
"Let me guess," I laughed. "Tall, dark, and handsome? Like the last three guys you mentioned?"
"Forget them," she said. "They're chopped liver compared to this guy."
Now, I really wanted to look – not because I was here to meet someone, but rather because the other guys had been nothing to sneeze at. This meant the latest "hottie" must be something truly spectacular.
Livia was still gripping my arm. With a little squeeze, she said, "Quick. Laugh like I just said something funny."
At this, I actually did laugh, not because she'd commanded me to, but rather because the request was so ridiculous, I couldn’t help but laugh. "Seriously?"
"Louder," she urged. "And better. Like this." And then, right on cue, she threw back her head and laughed with such wild abandon that several people turned to look.
Then again, people always looked at Livia. She was undeniably gorgeous, with long dark hair and a figure to die for.
And me? Well, I wasn't quite chopped liver, but I was no Livia, that's for sure.
I stood several inches shorter, with long auburn hair that was nearly impossible to tame, especially during humid weather – or when I'd been dancing for too long in a crowded nightclub.
But Livia? She still looked picture-perfect. She and I were probably the same dress size, but with her impossibly long legs, she looked three sizes smaller and ten times more fashionable in her little red dress with matching heels.
She was holding her fifth mojito – not because she'd consumed the other four, but rather because a long parade of guys had been vying for her attention and buying her drinks whenever she expressed the least bit of thirst.
As I watched, she placed the latest mojito onto the bar beside us and smiled winningly over my shoulder. Under her breath, she urged, "Hurry up."
"Sorry, what?"
"Laugh, like I said."
Oh, God. I didn't want to. But the truth was, I owed Livia a favor, and I couldn’t afford to tick her off.
Just yesterday, she'd gotten me a job interview with her dad's jewelry store, and if there was one thing I needed now, it was gainful employment.
So, feeling like a total idiot, I threw back my head and laughed like Livia had done just a few moments ago. Or at least, I thought it was the same – except the reactions were totally different.
Where people had stared at her with obvious interest, they stared at me like I'd like just farted at the dinner table.
Livia frowned. "That sounded totally fake."
Heat flooded my face. In a near-whisper, I said, "Yeah. Because it was."
I wasn't good at faking things, especially orgasms. Ask my last boyfriend. He'll tell you.
Livia was still frowning. "You'll never get any better if you don't practice."
"Practice what?"
"Laughing."
I didn't want to practice. I laughed when I was amused. I smiled when I was happy.