MARRYING THE ROCKSTAR (#3 ROCKSTAR SERIES)

♪ twenty-nine ♪🔥

I was halfway done with my coffee, kind of zoned-out looking out the window, when Cameron yawned.

"Morning," he said, stretching and sitting up, scrubbing his face. His eyes were glossy, and he smacked his lips after yawning again. "Nice couch."

It surprised me that that was his only reaction; that he didn't call me a creep for silently watching him as he slept.

I held the hot mug to my chest, almost as if using it to cover up though I was wearing clothes. "You didn't have to sleep on it."

He blinked at me, squinting. "Well, I wasn't leaving, and I wasn't going to sleep on the floor. And I definitely wasn't going to sleep with you, so..."

I flinched. He hadn't tried to sleep with me. Like, at all. He could have easily taken advantage of my drunkenness, of my inability to consent. But that wasn't Cameron's type, thank goodness. He was respectful, kind. A jealous guy, sure, but he didn't take what wasn't his. And definitely not without getting approval first.

"I appreciate that, by the way," I said, sniffing in the coffee scent, peering into the liquid to avoid his gaze. "Others might have abused the opportunity, but you..."

"Well, there's that..." He got up, stretching more, his shirt hefting up to show his defined abdominals, sculpted like a godly statue. "And I don't like to share a bed with someone who's drunk." He chuckled. "They tend to kick and groan and breathe really loud."

I knew he was brushing it all off, trying to find humor in the situation; but I did appreciate his respect. He had plenty of chances to touch me, kiss me; he'd carried me naked to my room, after all. But he'd kept his distance all while watching over me.

He'd been...a friend. A true one, a good one. One that took note of boundaries and listened.

He padded to the kitchen, poured himself a mug of coffee, and returned to the couch. Only then did he seem to notice the blanket I'd placed over him while he slept. "Been up a while?" He pushed the cover to the edge of the sofa. "Coffee good?"

In response, I sipped and smiled. "It's delicious. And," I curled up in my seat, "been up long enough."

He sipped his own java and set the mug down. "Decent." His gaze rested on me, not quite worried, but eyes charging with questions. "How are you feeling?"

I blew out my cheeks, ignoring the thoughts racing through my head. An onrush of things brewed inside me, but I didn't even know how to begin to formulate it all into words. "A loaded question," I said, wincing.

"Okay." Cameron patted the space beside him on the couch. "Then how about we focus on how you're doing physically?"

He wanted me to...sit next to him?

I wasn't sure if I should sit next to him. If I should get so close. I wasn't drunk anymore, but that didn't mean I wasn't still a little on edge, a little panicked on the inside.

He'd just woken up. He was tired, disoriented; so was I. Us being so near one another in such circumstances, with both of us confused, one of us heartbroken, the other filled with worry...

It didn't bode well, did it?

Being away from his body was best, for now, wasn't it? Staying away, not tempting myself into something I might not be able to recover from...

And yet...

The notion of having his warmth next to me was enticing. The notion of being near someone who, I realized, had my interests at heart...was appealing.

He was appealing.

Those sweats didn't cover him up enough. That shirt didn't hide what I knew was underneath. And those eyes...he couldn't conceal the desire he'd always had there, for me.