Warning:
Slightly mature content ahead!
____________________________________________________________________
Shawn gripped the neck of his guitar tighter than normal, the strings cutting into his fingers painfully. He'd come to his room to escape the explosive anger building in his chest. But once he'd arrived he couldn't decide whether to play or smash the guitar against the desk, watching as it exploded into a million tiny pieces. The latter sounded as if it would be a bit more satisfying to the beast clawing its way to the surface, but he'd paid a pretty penny for the instrument and didn't want to dip back into his fund to buy another. He was sure his mother hadn't intended his trust fund to be used to replace items he'd damaged while having a fit. He'd been lucky she'd set it up to allow him to tap into a portion when he turned sixteen in the first place.
Closing his eyes, he let out a deep breath and leaned his forehead against the hand holding his guitar. A knock sounded at his door.
"Shawn, please," Clarissa said, her voice conveying the hurt and regret she'd expressed to him earlier. But Shawn didn't care. If she felt so sorry, she could just spit out whatever it was she was hiding from him.
"Leave me alone," he growled back, placing the instrument roughly next to the bed and climbing to his feet. He walked over to the window and stared out across the way. A dim light shone through the dark curtains hiding Camila's room from his view. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass and raised his palm, laying it flat against the pane. A very large part of him wished he was over there with her right then.
"If you'd just let me explain ..."
Shawn whipped around and moved toward the door, stopping just before he reached it and clenching his fists at his sides. "Explain what? How you can't tell me anymore? Because if that's it, then I'm really not in the mood."
"I told you I'd tell you if I could, but it isn't my place. This is between your father and you."
"He stopped being my father the moment he put a bullet into my mother and left me to fend for myself."
"Shawn ..."
He raised his hand and rubbed his forehead between his thumb and middle finger. "I'm really tired, Clarissa. Of all of this." Shawn knew the sound of him using her name would drive his point home. "Just ... leave me alone."
He heard her sigh and whisper a soft, "I'm sorry," confirming the fact that she wouldn't give him any more information, before her footsteps receded. Shawn lifted his hands and fisted them in his hair. His chest squeezed with the inclination to go after her, to let her apology stand, to try to understand where she was coming from. But he couldn't. Not this time. Too many people had withheld things from him in his life. Too much had been told to him in half truths and lies, and he was sick of not knowing anything about his own past, about the people who claimed to love him.
If things were so dire that his father was reduced to writing him pleading letters every week, why wouldn't someone just tell him what was going on? Why did it have to be some big secret, something only his father could tell him? Didn't they understand how much he didn't want to see Manuel? How could they not fathom that hearing his father's name alone made him feel as though he wanted to thrust his fist through a wall? With that violent of a desire just from a name, how much worse would it be if he were to see him? To look into the eyes of the man that gave him life and then basically took it away in an instant.
It wasn't just that he didn't want to see Manuel, he was afraid of what he'd do when and if he did. Would he freak out and lose all of the progress he'd made up to that point? It had taken him twelve years to open up to anybody. And now that he had, he really didn't want to lose that feeling. The one that told him he was someone worth something, no matter what he'd done in the past. That he was alive and breathing and capable of love. What if seeing Manuel caused the walls to resurrect, to enclose his heart once more within layers and layers of hate, betrayal, and mistrust? He couldn't have that. Couldn't let this feeling go. He needed it, craved it.
No, he couldn't go. Not until he knew it wouldn't break him and return him to the unfeeling shell he had become. That wasn't the life he wanted. He wanted what he had now. A family. Friends. A girlfriend. People who understood where he'd come from and wanted him regardless. He may have been angry at the Jauregui for keeping things from him, but he didn't hate them. He didn't feel the need to distance himself like he had at the previous foster homes. But that didn't mean he wanted to see or talk to them at that moment.
Another soft knock sounded at the door.
He groaned. "I told you to leave me alone. I don't want to hear your excuses anymore."
"It's me, you ass."
Shawn sighed and moved to the door, twisting the lock and throwing it open. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, and glared down at his foster-sister. "Missing me already? It's only been a few hours since I graced you with my presence."
She scowled up at him, strode forward, and shoved him out of the way, crossing the threshold into his room. "Like I really want to be around you during one of your angst-ridden emo fits."
He closed the door and then crossed the floor, plopping down onto his back on the center of the bed. Throwing his arm over his eyes, he sighed. "Then what do you want, Lauren? If you haven't noticed, I'm really not in the mood for sibling banter at the moment—no matter how ingenious we may be with our wit and sarcasm."
She grunted and lay back next to him, shoving her hip into his side until he scooted over. The action took Shawn by surprise because Lauren had never acted so freely around him before. Sure, they'd had their fun arguing back and forth, but never had she seemed comfortable enough around him to come into his room and just hang with him.
"I just wanted to see if you were all right. Now you're making me regret caring in the first place." She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.
Shawn dropped his own arm and turned his face toward her. She lay staring up at the ceiling, her black hair pulled away and hanging over the side of the bed.
"You heard?" he asked.
"Some of it." She looked over, her eyes meeting his. "For the record, I think her not telling you freaking blows. You have a right to know."
Shawn turned away from her, raised one hand, and rested it behind his head. "Yeah, well, apparently it doesn't matter what I have the right to know or not. She insisted my father tell me."
Lauren scoffed. "Well, you know Mother. Once she thinks something is right she'll stick to it no matter how moronic it sounds to everyone else." She sighed. "Maybe you should just go. Get it over with."
Shawn groaned and got up from the bed, making his way to the window once more. Camila's room was dark now. He placed his fist against the glass and stared out at the inky, star dotted sky. Closing his eyes, he lowered his head, resting it against the cool surface.
The creak of springs and a rustling of fabric sounded behind him, and then a warm hand rested on his shoulder. He felt his body stiffen at the contact against his will. But even so, Lauren didn't remove her touch.
"You're different now, Shawn," she said as if she could read every thought, every fear swirling around in his mind. "Everyone sees it. You shouldn't let the fear of reverting back to how you were stop you from learning the truth." And just when he was about to look at her with disbelief at the fact that she was being sensitive toward him, she added, "So quit being such a pansy-assed whiner and do something about it."
He turned to her and frowned. "And here I thought you were being all nice and sensitive, trying to make me feel better, and you have to go and ruin it with your big mouth."
She smiled widely and patted his shoulder rather hard. "That's what I'm here for. I'll leave my bill on your desk."
He rolled his eyes, waved her off, and went back to staring out the window.
"Why don't you just go over there?"
"What?" Shawn asked absently, his eyes fixed on the dark window across from his.
"To Mila. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."
He sighed, hating the fact that his desire to be with her was so transparent. "Her mother would never let me in. It's almost midnight."
"God, you're so thick sometimes."
He furrowed his brow and faced her. "What are you talking about?"
Lauren crossed the room, stopping only when she stood beside him. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed that ginormous tree planted between our houses and how its branches conveniently act as a connection between your rooms."
Shawn was quiet for a moment before turning back toward the window. "I may have noticed."
"Uh huh." She patted his arm and leaned in, whispering in his ear. "I'll lock up, lover boy."
With that, she spun on her heel, her hair flying up and smacking Shawn in the face as she made her way to the door.
"Lord, Lauren. Watch the hair; you could put an eye out with that stuff."
She snorted and opened the door, looking back as she twisted the lock on the doorknob. A sly grin stretched over her lips. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She winked and the door clicked shut behind her.
Shawn chuckled and turned back to the window, contemplating whether he should take her advice or not. It was crazy, and if he got caught, could potentially end any allowed contact between the two of them. After a few minutes, he muttered, "Screw it," to himself, and slid the pane open. Stepping out onto the nearest branch capable of holding his weight, he turned back and slid the window down until it was opened only an inch. Before setting off once more, he let out a slow breath and prayed like hell he wouldn't fall off and break his neck.
___________________________________________________________
Just as Camila's mind settled and the excitement of the day allowed her the chance to fall into slumber, a soft tapping pulled her back to consciousness. She yawned and stretched her arms over her head, rolling over and snuggling down into her blankets further.
Tap, tap, tap.
She opened her eyes, first one and then the other, sitting up slowly. Frowning, she got up and padded across the floor to the window. Pulling aside the curtain, she gasped at what awaited her. She held up a finger and whipped around to the door on the opposite side of her room. After twisting the lock she returned, threw back the curtains, and thrust open the pane.
"Shawn! Are you crazy? You'll break your neck if you fall!" She whispered furiously, her hands held out to him.
Shawn stared back at her, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth. "So I take it that means I can come in?"
She rolled her eyes, a smile crept on her face then nodded. He grabbed them and crawled through the open window.
Once he stood in her bedroom, Camila felt heat rise from her chest and pool into her cheeks. He wore only a white t-shirt and a pair of black soccer shorts, but even in those, she couldn't deny the desire she had to pull him closer, touch him, kiss him. With each day, those feelings grew and she found it harder and harder to manage herself with him. She didn't want to keep mixing her signals, but she couldn't help it. Her head told her one thing, her heart another, and her body something completely different.
Instead of acting on what she felt, she just stared at his chest, unable to meet his eyes for fear she would launch herself at him. She knew she had made her feelings about their physical relationship clear to him, and that he wouldn't push it. But she was more worried about her own self control because he looked oh-so-hot standing there in the dark with only the moonlight highlighting his features.
Camila swallowed, hard. "What are you doing here?" She finally glanced up, catching a glimpse of sadness in his eyes before he lowered his face.
"I don't know," he said quietly. "I just—" he looked up, "wanted ... you."
"Oh." Camila felt her face grow even hotter.
"Not like that," he said quickly. "Well, not that I don't, but ..." He glanced up and smirked. "Now I'm the one getting tongue tied at the subject."
Camila shrugged and smiled.
He stepped forward and took her hands, his eyes locked on them as he traced slow circles on her palms with his thumbs. Camila fought back a shiver. It amazed her what just that small gesture, the lightest touch of his hand, could do to her.
"What I meant to say was," his eyes met hers once more and the sadness Camila noticed before was magnified, "I just needed to be with you. To see you. That's all."
Camila reached up and ran her fingers along his cheekbone. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
He started to shake his head, but Camila stopped him by cupping his face between both her hands. "Don't tell me nothing."
"I wasn't going to," he said. "I just don't want to talk about it right now."
Camila studied him carefully, wanting so badly for him to let her in. "You sure?"
"Yes." Opening his eyes, he met her stare, holding it intently.
"What?" she asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but the only thing that came out was, "Nothing."
"No, tell me what you were going to say."
He looked away, focusing on the far wall. "I just wondered if," he paused, "if I could stay ... with you ... for ... a little while." Pulling his lip between his teeth, he closed his eyes once more and whispered, "Please."
Camila turned his face back toward her and lifted herself up on tip toes. She leaned forward and brushed her mouth against his so lightly she barely touched him. "Look at me, Shawn," she whispered.
His lips parted and he let out a shaky breath before opening his eyes and peering into hers. She studied him carefully, taking in the pain and sadness he tried so hard to mask. Kissing him softly once more, she said, "Of course you can. Stay. As long as you want." She lowered her hands from his face and took his, tugging against him. "Come on."
He obeyed and followed her. She sat on the edge of her bed and pulled him down next to her, gesturing for him to slide to the middle. He did as she asked.
Camila moved to sit on her knees in front of him. She stared into his eyes, wishing she knew what was going on inside his head. She cupped his face once again and grazed her thumbs softly on his cheeks. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about whatever is bothering you? It's okay if you do."
He shook his head. "I'm sure. I just want to be here with you, with nothing else crowding my mind. Just you."
Camila nodded and scooted forward, positioning herself just between his legs. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she leaned forward, placing one hand on the comforter to either side of him. His chest rose and fell slightly faster than before, but he made no move toward her. The air around them felt charged and alive. Electricity bounced between their bodies, sparking against Camila's skin like tiny pinpoints of fire. She felt as it grew and grew, and her face flushed with the tension. Shawn lowered his stare and reached out, running a finger the length of her arm, stopping at her hand and tracing a line along her knuckles.
"Shawn," Camila said, a noticeable tremor in her voice. Not because she was scared but because whatever was happening between them was so strong, her entire body felt coiled and ready to burst. She leaned in, her lips so close to his she could feel his breath brushing her skin. "I don't ever want to tease you, and I know I told you I wasn't ready for some things, but sometimes ... sometimes I ... want to ... do ... other things."
He met her gaze and brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, tucking them behind her ear. "What do you want, Mila?"
She closed her eyes and shivered as his warm breath washed over her face. His fingers traced lightly against the skin of her cheeks until he cupped them between his palms. Opening her eyes once more, she focused on him and felt her face heat. She tried to look away, but he held her there, not letting her.
"Don't be embarrassed to tell me what you want. How will I know if you don't?"
"It's not so much that I'm embarrassed as much as I feel ... bad."
His brows furrowed. "Why?"
She grimaced and leaned back, his hands slipping from her face. "Because it doesn't feel right for me to have all the say in what happens physically between us."
"You know I don't mind. And I can pretty much guarantee anything you have in mind I'm up for."
She met his gaze once more. "I know you don't mind, but it still feels wrong to me."
He reached out and took her hands with his. "Would it make you feel better if I told you what I wanted?"
She swallowed and nodded.
"Okay." Scooting forward, Shawn leaned into her, touching his mouth to hers gently and pulling her bottom lip between his before releasing it. "I want to kiss you." He slid from her mouth to her jaw, leaving behind tiny, warm kisses as he moved along her skin to her ear. "I want to touch you," he whispered, running his hands lightly up her arms, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin and a shiver to shake her. "I want to hold you." Wrapping his arms around her back, he pulled her toward him. "Beyond that, I'm happy to wait for your cues." His lips brushed the flesh of her nearly bare shoulder as his hands ran over her back, up her neck, and cupped her cheeks. His mouth followed the same trail until it came to rest at her ear once more. "Now, tell me what you want, Mila."
Instead of answering, she reached up and grabbed his face, pulling it hard against hers. Her hands shook against his cheeks as she kissed him. When she finally pulled away, she whispered shakily, "I want to kiss you." She placed one to each corner of his mouth and a string of them along his jaw until she met his ear. "I want to touch you." Her hands left his face, trailed down his neck and chest then fell to his waist, her fingers inching up under the fabric of his shirt. She flattened her palms against his stomach and greedily drew them up over his abs and chest, bringing his shirt with them. "I want this off." She tugged on the material.
Shawn froze for a fraction of a second before reaching back and grabbing the back of the collar of his shirt, tugging it over his head and throwing it across the room.
Camila inched forward even more, rested her forehead against his and her elbows on his shoulders, burying her hands in the hair on top of his head. "I want you to hold me so tight that I don't know where you begin and I end. I want you to kiss me until I forget my own name and I can hardly breathe. And I want your hands on me, your skin against mine."
He let out a shaky breath of his own, his muscles tensing under Camila's arms. "Mila ..." His voice came out strained.
Camila brushed her lips back and forth against his, teasing as his mouth parted and his hot breath washed over her. "You asked what I wanted." She tightened her grip on his hair.
"Lord," he whispered as his arms went around her, lifting her slightly off the bed and pulling her flush against his chest. His mouth crashed down on hers, swallowing her kisses as if they were the only thing in existence that would sustain his life.
Her hands fell from his hair and followed the lines of his shoulders and back, her fingers dancing over every sculpted, firm muscle. She wanted to feel him, every inch that she could. Every place their skin touched felt on fire, tingling and burning with a sensation so indescribable she could barely stand it. Her body craved more, more of his touch, more of him, just more.
Camila pulled back from his kiss, but only enough to rest her forehead against his. He let go of her and ran his hands up and down her arms as he left more soft kisses along her neck. She lifted her chin to allow him easier access and closed her eyes, her breathing fast and shallow. As awesome as that all was, she wanted more, she needed more.
"Shawn," she whispered.
"Hmm?" His voice vibrated against her skin and caused a tremor to rip through her.
She lowered her hands to the hem of her shirt and grasped it in her trembling fists. "Can I ...?"
He pulled back and looked down, his breath catching before he glanced back up at her, his eyes wide. "You don't have to do that."
"I know," she said, the nervousness she felt coming out clearly in her voice. "I want to. I want to feel ... more."
His eyes stayed focused on hers and he released a breath she didn't know he'd been holding. "Okay."
She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his once more, shutting her eyes. "Will you do it?"
"Are you sure about this?" He sounded unsure himself.
She nodded. "I'm nervous."
Shawn leaned in and kissed her gently, his fingers tracing a line across her cheekbones. "Don't be nervous, Pippi. It's just me."
She opened her eyes and stared into his, realizing he was right. It was just him, and there was no one on Earth she trusted more. "I know." Reaching out, she took both of his hands in hers and placed them at her hips where the hem of her shirt lay. She let go of them and cupped his cheeks, pressing her lips to his. "I trust you."
Shawn kept his hands at her hips for a few more minutes as he kissed her and she felt her body relax. All the fear and anxiety washed away the longer his lips moved against hers. After a while, Shawn pulled back from their kiss, met her eyes, and slipped his fingers up under the edge of the fabric, brushing against the bare skin of her belly. His touch stayed light and soft.
Camila kept her eyes locked on his as his hands splayed across her abdomen. She felt herself start to tremble once more and Shawn stopped, his thumbs sliding back and forth along her ribs.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Do you want me to stop?"
She shook her head. "Please don't."
Shawn moved his hands up a little further until the swell of her chest just barely touched the inner curve of his thumbs and forefingers.
"Mila ..." His voice cracked as he spoke her name, and his eyes filled with what she could only describe as a mixture of fear and desire. "I don't know if ..."
"Don't you want to?" She knew her own voice trembled, but this time it wasn't from fear, but anticipation, want, need.
"God, yes, I want to, but I just don't know if I should ... I don't want you to do anything you don't really want, or that you're not ready for, just because you think I might want to."
Camila smiled and kissed his waiting lips. "I want to, Shawn." she said and slipped her hands under her shirt, placing them on top of his and slowly moving both up over her chest.
Her eyes closed just as Shawn released a sharp breath, pushing out a string of curse words she'd never heard him say before. He felt so warm against her never before touched flesh, a shiver shot through her entire body. Without another thought, she reached up, pulling her tank top over her head and throwing it to the other side of the room with his. Glancing down, she marveled at the sight of Shawn's hands, so big, so strong, touching her in a way no one had before. She felt no more fear, no shame, nothing but a peace and rightness to the feelings that had been coursing through her. This was right. They were right.
Shawn dropped his hands slowly, trailing across her flesh, and looked down. Suddenly, Camila felt her face fill with heat and anxiety at the knowledge that he was seeing her, really seeing her.
"Is it—" she stammered. "Am I ... okay?"
His head slowly raised, his eyes meeting hers. "Okay?"
Camila nodded, feeling self conscious again.
He glanced down again and then back up. "You're more than okay, Mila. You're beautiful. Perfect."
"Really?" she whispered, slightly embarrassed at her own self doubt, but no one had ever seen her before and she just didn't know how she'd rate.
"Really," he said as he slid his hand around to the back of her neck and pulled her forward. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen—and I'm not just saying that so you'll let me cop another feel." He smirked.
Camila couldn't help but smile. "Do you have to be an ass right now? I'm kinda exposed here."
He nodded. "It helps when I act like one, doesn't it?"
"Yeah. Sickeningly enough, it does."
"See? I know what my girl needs."
Camila shifted, moving her legs to either side and straddling his. As she sat back down, his hands rose and ran up the length of her back.
"Is this okay?" she asked when she settled in front of him, lifting her arms and wrapping them around his neck.
He nodded. "More than okay."
She inched forward a little more, stopping when she sat directly on his lap. "And you'll tell me when it's not ... okay?"
"Yes."
"Do you promise? Because I don't know and I need you to tell me."
"I promise, Pippi." He smiled. "Do you want me to swear with my boy scout's honor?"
"You were a boy scout?"
He laughed. "No."
"Then that wouldn't really mean much would it?"
He shrugged. "How about I just say 'I promise' and you take me at my word, okay?"
"Always." Camila tightened her grip around his neck, pressing herself flush to his chest, finally feeling his skin against hers. No barriers, just them, his warmth against hers.
He lowered his forehead to her shoulder, and she thrust her hands into his hair, holding him tightly to her. His lips found her collar bone and moved along it slowly, leaving behind small, wet kisses.
Camila pulled against the strands at the back of his head and he lifted his face to her, his eyes dark and wide. "Shawn?"
"Yeah?"
"Will you," she paused, "touch me again?"
He closed his eyes. "God, I think you're trying to kill me."
Although he said the words, his hands obeyed her request and slid slowly up her sides until they reached her chest once more. Camila dropped her head back at the sensation of his touch and tightened her hold around his neck. His mouth brushed across her shoulder causing her breath to hitch and her body to tremble.
After a few moments, she moved her hands to his cheeks and guided his lips to hers, tracing her tongue along the bottom one until he opened to let her in. Once he did, she scooted even closer and he froze minutely before wrapping his arms around her. Camila held tighter to his hair, deepening her kiss. Shawn let out a ragged breath, wrapped an arm around her waist and the other cupped the back of her neck. Gripping her tightly, he picked her up off the bed and flipped her onto her back. Camila hit the mattress and Shawn hovered over top, his lips never ceasing their relentless pursuit of hers. One of his hands tucked underneath her and held her flush against his body while the other grasped at her hip, digging into her flesh as he continued to kiss her.
Camila couldn't seem to get enough of him. Her mind hazed over as her hands roamed his body, fingers ghosting over the hard lines of his back and shoulder, curling into him when she felt as though he might pull away. But he didn't, not then. His hand slid from her hip, slowly running up her side until it brushed the side of her chest once more. Her breath hitched involuntarily and he froze. She reached up and placed her hand over his, entwining her fingers with his briefly, letting him know she was all right and she wanted him to continue. He did.
After several minutes, Camila placed her hand against his chest and pushed. He moved back easily, stopping everything in that instant. He looked at her, worry etched on his face. She smiled, pushing harder against him until he lay on his back, confusion replacing the worry in his eyes. Camila climbed on top of him, stretching her body to span the length of his, every inch of her touching him in some way. She took his hands in hers and stretched them up over his head, staring straight into his eyes.
"You feel so good," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him once more, his taste flooding her mouth as he responded. "Too good, I think."
When she pulled away, he lifted his chin and kissed hers softly, his lips running along the underside and down her throat. She shivered.
"Maybe we should stop." He sighed into her skin.
She closed her eyes and nodded, but her hands told a different story as they released his and grasped his head, holding him against her. "But I don't want to."
He groaned and reached up, wrapping his fingers around her wrists and removing her hands from his hair. "Me neither. But, I think ... I think I need to."
Camila dropped her head to his shoulder, burying her face into the crook of his neck and allowing a small whine to escape. His arms stretched around her back, holding her tightly against him. The steady beat of his heart pounded in his chest, the comforting sound echoing through Camila's ear. She smiled into his skin and snuggled in closer.
"Thank you," she said.
He laughed. "You never have to thank me for that, Pippi. It was my pleasure, believe me. I'm just sorry I had to stop."
She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. "Don't be." Stretching up, she placed a chaste kiss to his lips before resuming her previous position. "I'm glad I can trust you to tell me when you need to stop. I loved every second."
"Good."
After a few minutes of just lying there, Camila's breathing slowed into an easy rhythm. Shawn moved one of his hands to her head, his fingers trailing through her hair.
"Stay with me," she murmured into his skin.
"Okay," he said, dropping a soft kiss to the top of her head.
She closed her eyes and felt as the world started slipping away. The darkness closed in around her, but this time she wasn't alone and she wasn't afraid of the dreams that may come. She was safe, secure.
Somewhere amidst the haze clouding her mind, pulling her deeper and deeper into unconsciousness, she heard his voice whisper softly, "Happy birthday, Pippi." And with that, she let go, falling into the sweet abyss, wrapped happily in her boy's arms.
_______________________________________________________________
Streams of sunlight spilled from the sky, oddly highlighting the swing set on which Camila sat. She stared across the lawn toward the emerald sea of the cemetery. Patches of light stretched across its expanse and eerie mist billowed out, covering the ground. Camila's hand clutched the chain tightly as she swung, her feet scraping the dust beneath her. A soft rustling sounded to her right and the swing beside her moved as someone sat down. She didn't bother to look up, not really caring who it might be, her mind lost in thought.
"Nice day, don't you think?"
The voice was familiar, painfully so. Camila lifted her head slowly, her heart pounding hard in her chest. She turned toward the voice, her breath catching when her eyes finally fell upon his face. She'd almost forgotten just how piercing his dark eyes were.
"Carlos?"
He smiled, the same laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. "You didn't think I'd forget your birthday did you?"
Tears filled Camila's eyes, but she didn't dare blink for fear he'd disappear. "But you're ... you're ..."
"Dead?" He raised one brow and turned to look at the cemetery, nodding his head. "Yeah. Bummer, huh?"
Camila laughed in spite of herself. His voice sounded exactly the same.
Carlos turned back to her and grinned once more. "It's good to see you laugh." He reached out and laid his hand on her face.
Camila gasped at the warm sensation on her skin. She closed her eyes, letting the tears spill over her cheeks, and reached up, grasping his hand and holding tight. When she opened her eyes once more, she was nearly blinded by the glow surrounding him.
"But how ... why ..." she sputtered.
"I told you. I wasn't about to forget your birthday. And I missed you." His smile faded as sadness filled his face and he glanced down. "I'm sorry for leaving. For making you so sad."
"Are you really here?" Camila reached out and grasped his other hand, forcing his gaze to meet hers once more. "I mean, I know I'm dreaming. But are you really here?"
"I'm really here."
With a cry, Camila flung herself forward, wrapping her arms around her brother's neck, tears running freely. His arms tucked around her back and he stood, lifting her feet off the ground, just like he always had when they were kids. He swung her around and then set her down, patting the top of her head.
"I don't have long," he said. "I'm not even really supposed to be here now. I just needed to make sure you were okay."
"Wait, what do you mean you're not supposed to be here?"
He flashed her a sly grin and leaned forward, whispering, "I snuck out."
Camila rolled her eyes. "Even in death you're still a trouble maker."
"You know it." He winked. "A zebra never changes its stripes."
A breeze rustled behind them and Camila could have sworn she heard whispers calling out from within it.
Carlos sighed. "Times up, Camsies."
The use of Carlos's childhood pet-name for her made Camila's chest pang with grief. "Already?"
"Sorry," he said and reached out to hug her once more.
She enveloped herself in his arms, breathing in his familiar scent and trying to commit to memory what it felt like to be near him once more.
And just like he could read her mind, he said, "Just because you can't see me, doesn't mean I'm not still with you. I'm watching over you, baby sis. Always."
Camila squeezed tighter, willing him to stay just a little longer. "Don't go," she whispered, her voice echoing through the air as the sunlight surrounding them faded away.
"Happy birthday, Camsies." His voice sounded so far away and Camila could no longer see.
With a gasp, she bolted up in bed, her arms still tingling from his touch. Her heart pounded, and even though she felt a pang of sadness that he was no longer with her, a sense of peace washed over her, knowing deep inside that he really had been there. He'd really come to her on her birthday.
Suddenly, the memory of the night before flashed in her mind and she reached over absently, only finding cool, empty sheet. She looked to the side Shawn had occupied and found a single flower—a miniature red rose, her favorite—and a folded sheet of paper with her name scrawled across the front in his hand. She smiled and reached over, picking up the flower and twirling it between her fingers. Grabbing the note, she lay back on her pillow and opened it.
Good Morning, Pippi,
I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. I didn't want to leave, believe me, but I don't think Coach would have been too thrilled if I told him I was late because I was too busy lazing around in my girlfriend's bed. He probably would have slapped me upside the head and called me a pansy-assed douche. Then again, maybe he would have high fived me or given me some other cliché male bonding gesture. Regardless, I couldn't hang around to find out, but if I could have stayed, I would have. It felt good waking up with you curled into my side and my arms wrapped around you—even if you did drool all over my chest.
Anyway, I just didn't want to leave you with an empty bed and no goodbye, so this note was the best I could do. I'll see you later at the game—unless you're not coming, but I know you wouldn't miss a chance to see me all uniformed up, so I'll anticipate seeing you there. Until then, I hope you have a fantastic morning, birthday girl.
~Shawn.
P.S. You can thank the nerd-boy for clueing me in on your favorite flower. Is there anything he doesn't know about you? I'm thinking I should feel jealous, but I just can't muster up the ability to feel threatened by him. Wonder why?
Camila couldn't stop the grin from stretching across her lips. Shaking her head, she reached over to her nightstand, grabbed her phone, and began typing a message.
You're such an ass. ~C.
She stood, stretched, and pulled on a pair of yoga pants before her phone buzzed.
I wouldn't be me if I wasn't. Plus, you know you love it. ~S.
Loving you and loving you being an ass are two different things. ~C.
True. But I know you love me AND my ass, so you loving me being an ass is a given. ~S.
OMG! Why do I put up with you? ~C.
Because I'm stunningly attractive. Now, go enjoy your birthday breakfast and let me warm up before coach throws a hissy—though that might be fun to see. ~S.
Alright. Thanks for the flower and the note. Though, I would've rather had you. ~C.
I know. Me too. ~S.
Camila sighed and flipped her phone closed. She pulled Shawn's hoodie off the back of her desk chair, where she'd conveniently hung it after the last time he'd let her wear it and not returned it, and headed down stairs. She found her mother singing softly to herself in the kitchen, swaying her hips to the beat of the music coming from the radio as she flipped a giant chocolate chip pancake. It had always been a tradition with Sinu to make Camila and Carlos their favorite breakfasts each and every birthday. Camila always loved the big smiley-face chocolate chip pancakes her mother had made since she was old enough to remember such things. She wasn't ashamed to admit she still loved them.
Sliding onto the stool at the island bar, Camila rested her chin on her hands and smiled at her mother's back. Sinu placed a pancake onto a plate, lifted her spatula to sing into it, and turned, nearly dropping the plate when she spied Camila sitting there.
"Jeez, honey, you almost gave me a heart attack!" She set the plate down in front of Camila and rested her hand over her heart.
"That was quite amusing, Mama. Maybe you should come with us next time we go to Pandora on open mic night."
"Ha. Ha," Sinu said as she fetched the can of whipped cream from the door of the refrigerator. She held it out, her brows raised in question. Camila nodded and Sinu squirted out a smiley face onto the pancake. "I'm sorry about not doing the whole party thing this year ..."
Camila took a bite and raised her hand, waving it in front of her face. "I'm glad. You know I hate parties anyway."
"Yeah, but it's your seventeenth. One more year to freedom so you deserves a party."
"I don't want one, really."
Sinu sighed and took a seat next to Camila, her eyes falling to her lap and her hands nervously moving back and forth over the pocket of her jeans.
"Mama? What's going on?"
Sinu looked up, meeting Camila's gaze. "I have something for you, but I'm not sure how to give it to you."
Camila set down her fork and turned to face her mother. "What is it?"
Sinu let out a soft sigh and stuck her hand into her pocket, pulling out a small white jewelry box, holding it tentatively in her hand. She swallowed before she spoke. "I've been debating whether or not to let you have this for weeks now. I know it's meant to be yours, but I didn't know how you'd react." She looked up, studying Camila's face. "But I think maybe you're ready."
"Mama?" Camila asked, feeling a little afraid of what her mother was about to give her.
A small, sad smile pulled at Sinu's lips as she held out the box. "It's from your brother. He found it at a little shop when we traveled to the country to visit Grandma. Do you remember that trip?"
Camila nodded, unable to form a coherent response. Her eyes kept darting between Sinu's and the box she held out in front of her.
"He saw this and he said, 'This is so Camsies.' And he had to get it for you."
Camila took the box carefully in her hand, holding it just around the edges, almost as if she was afraid she might break it if she held it too tight. What could he have seen that could have made him have to instantly buy it for her? And why didn't he give it to her earlier? That trip had been a month or so before the accident.
Taking a deep breath, Camila lifted the lid of the box. Nestled inside the soft padding lay a gaudy looking keychain with one of the Care Bears dangling from the ring. Camila snorted and raised her hand to her mouth, not knowing whether she wanted to cry or laugh. So, she did both. The Care Bears had been a long running joke between her and Carlos since they'd both gotten addicted to old reruns of the cartoon on the Classic Toons network. They spent each Saturday morning glued to the television, wondering what may await them in Care-A-Lot that day.
Tears fell in streams down her cheeks even though a smile graced her lips. "Thank you for giving this to me. I love it." She looked up and met her mother's tear-filled eyes. Reaching out, she threw her arms around Sinu's neck and they both cried into each other's hair.
It felt good to cry. To do it together when for so long they'd hidden their grief from one another for fear of inciting it on the other. But now, on this day, it wasn't about sadness and heartache. It was about healing. About moving past the pain and grasping the happiness that was within reach for both of them. Carlos would always be gone, but they still had each other. They still lived and they both deserved happiness. It was what he would have wanted. What he always wanted, and finally, they were ready to give that to him.
Sinu pulled back and cupped Camila's cheeks, her eyes moving over Camila's face. "Happy birthday, sweetheart," she said before she pulled her back into a tight embrace.
Camila closed her eyes and buried her face into the crook of her mother's neck. "Thanks, Mama."
____________________________________________________________
The shrill scream of the whistle pierced the air as the first half ended. Shawn bent over, placed his hands on his knees and his breath came out ragged.
"Dude, those guys are brutal today. What'd you do to them?" Zayn asked.
Shawn raised his head, lifted an arm to swipe the sweat from his brow, and his gaze fell on the tall, dark haired center forward for the other team. Jacob Whitesides. It was just Shawn's luck that he'd be stuck playing against another one of Camila's unwanted suitors.
"He had a thing for Camila."
Zayn raised a brow. "Who hasn't?"
Shawn scowled and straightened up.
Zayn raised his hands palm out in front of him. "Hey. Not me anymore. I know when someone is off limit, Mendes. Besides, she's head over heels for you."
Shawn reached out and shoved Zayn jokingly before both boys jogged to the sideline. He grabbed his water bottle and took a long drink while his eyes roamed the stands. After a few moments, his gaze fell on the one person he'd hoped to see. With a grin, he dropped the bottle and made his way over.
Camila stood and climbed down the bleachers until she stood against the fence at the bottom, looking down at where Shawn waited.
"Hey," she said, a faint blush painting her cheeks.
"Hey." He smiled up at her. "When did you get here?"
"A while ago. Nice goal, by the way."
"Thanks." He cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips. "Do you feel weird about last night?"
Camila furrowed her brows. "No, why?"
Shawn shrugged. "I don't know. You just seem a little ... twitchy."
She laughed and looked down at her feet. "No. It's not that."
"Well, what then?"
She bit her lip and leaned forward. "You know how I get when you're wearing that." She gestured to his uniform. "And I really want to kiss you right now, but there are all these people ..."
Shawn glanced past her shoulder to the spectators occupying the stands before meeting her eyes once more. Deciding he didn't care, he jumped onto the ledge, curling his finger through the chain length fencing and pulling himself up. "Screw them," he said as he reached forward, cupping the back of Camila's neck and bringing her face to his, kissing her softly.
She smiled against his mouth before pulling back. "Please don't ever get rid of this." She twisted her hand in his jersey.
"You really do have a sick obsession with soccer players, don't you?"
"Only one."
Shawn smiled and leaned in to kiss her once more when the warning whistle blew. He sighed. "I have to go."
"Yeah, all right. I'll just sit up here, enjoying the view and smiling smugly at all the girls wishing their boyfriends were the hottest ones out there."
"Yes, you've earned those bragging rights. Though I'm not sure you should be stroking my ego so effectively. My head's bound to burst one of these days."
"Hmm, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" Camila leaned into him, her forehead against his and her mouth hovering very close, but she didn't touch him with her lips.
Shawn closed his eyes and licked his lips, drawing the bottom one between his teeth. "I honestly think you're trying to kill me."
"Never. But I just might reward you later."
He groaned quietly, secretly glad his jersey was untucked. "Damn it, Pippy. You can't go saying stuff like that to me when I have a game to play. Do you know how difficult it is to run in this condition?"
Camila giggled. "Sorry. I promise I'll behave. You know, you could always just think about Alex's annoying voice. That should help."
Shawn opened his eyes. "That was not nice." He frowned. "Though surprisingly effective."
"I thought it might be." She kissed his waiting lips one last time and mussed his hair. "Now, you better go before your coach benches you." Lifting her chin, she gestured behind him.
He turned to see his coach's eyes locked on them. With a sigh, he nodded. "Okay. See you after?"
"Of course." she shrugged.
Dropping down, Shawn made his way back to the sideline.
"Cute girl, Mendes," Coach said.
"Thanks," Shawn said, mildly disgusted that his coach had been looking.
"Just keep your head in the game and not elsewhere. We clear?"
"Do I ever not?" He took another swig of his water.
Coach smiled. "That remains to be seen." He clapped Shawn on the back. "Now get out there."
Shawn jogged to center field, taking his place behind the ball once more. Jacob stood opposite him, his head cocked to the side and brows pinched together as he studied Shawn.
"What the hell are you staring at?"
"Nothing. Just wondering how you managed to score with one of the most unattainable girls out there." He smirked.
"Wouldn't you like to know? Now, do yourself a favor and keep your mind on the game and off my girl before I wipe that smirk off your face."
"I'd like to see you try, Mendes."
The whistle blew and Shawn immediately passed the ball off to Zayn before shooting up through the middle, right past Jacob. Three defenders surrounded him, cutting off any chance for him to intercept the ball. Zayn found himself cornered, unable to get out. His eyes rose to Shawn's and he nodded.
Ducking down, Shawn managed to squeeze past the defenders and race toward the sideline, the thundering of feet following him as he ran. Zayn toed the ball into the air and jumped up, heading it out of his entrapment right to Shawn as he rushed forward. Shawn nudged the ball backward and caught it with his right foot, sliding it up the back of his calf and flicking it up with his left, causing the ball to arch over his head. Before it even had a chance to hit the ground, he kicked out sending the ball flying over the heads of the defenders rushing toward him and into the top right pocket of the goal.
The whistle blew once more, and Shawn turned to make his way back to center field when he suddenly felt someone crash into him, sending him flying backward onto the ground. He landed hard, pain shooting up his side from where he'd been hit. For a moment, his breath caught in his chest but then came out in a large whoosh. Shawn looked up. One of the larger defenders stood over him, a smirk on his face. The ref rushed forward, blowing frantically at his whistle and holding a red card over his head, waving it in the face of the other team member.
The defender looked down at Shawn, smiled, and said, "Totally worth it." He turned toward the sideline and ever so discreetly, fist-bumped Jacob as he strode past.
Zayn moved over to Shawn, holding his hand out to help him up. "Hell man. I don't envy you right about now."
Shawn groaned and reached up, pulling himself to his feet. He glanced over toward Jacob's sneering face and narrowed his eyes, the pain in his ribs still throbbing. Letting out a slow breath and trying to push back the pain, he started toward center field once more.
The rest of the game continued to be an all out bashing session on Shawn. Luckily, his teammates realized what was going on and worked their best to protect him against the unfair onslaught. Unfortunately, by the time it was finally over, Shawn had more aches and bruises than he remembered ever having before.
In an effort to quell the pain, Shawn showered in the locker room, allowing the hot water to soothe his tired muscles and aches. Once he finished, he dressed quickly and made his way out. Camila waited against one of the posts underneath the bleachers, Zayn keeping an eye on her while Shawn cleaned up. It wasn't that he didn't think she could take care of herself, but with the treatment Shawn just received, he didn't want to take any chances.
He walked up to them and Camila smiled. "Done?"
Shawn nodded, his eyes finding Zayn's, a word of thanks in his stare. Zayn tilted his head forward slightly. "Well, I'm going to go get changed now. See you later, Mila, Shawn."
"See you, Zayn," Camila said to his back as he walked toward the locker rooms. She turned to Shawn, her smile slipping from her lips. "What was going on out there today?"
Shawn reached over and took her hand, leading her toward the parking lot. "A soccer game. What else would we do at a place like this?"
"Don't be a smartass. You know what I mean." Camila halted and tugged his arm until he stopped too.
Shawn turned to her and sighed. "Nothing. Just guys being guys. It's no big deal."
She narrowed her eyes and reached forward, pulling his shirt up to expose his side. A large purple bruise was starting to form over his ribs. "Oh really? That's nothing?"
Shawn frowned and tugged his shirt back down. "Yes. It's part of the game."
Camila rolled her eyes and stalked forward, leaving him to trail behind her.
"I don't know why you act all concerned. I'm sure Carlos was bruised up sometimes. It happens in sports."
"Yes, Shawn, it does. But Carlos never had an entire team's whole focus be on slamming him into the ground. I don't understand what it is about you that incites so much violence in others."
"What can I say? I'm special. I thought you already knew that."
Camila stopped and turned toward him, her mouth opened like she wanted to say something, but all that came out was a frustrated cry and she whipped back around.
"Mila, wait—" Shawn started, but stopped when a recognizable figure stepped out from the shadows and grabbed Camila by the arm.
"Yes, Camila, wait." Vance mimicked Shawn and sneered down at Camila.
Camila jerked her arm, but Vance held tight.
"Going somewhere?" he asked her.
Anger exploded in Shawn's chest. "Get your hands off her."
Vance looked up at him. "Who's going to make me? You?"
"You're damn right I will." Shawn threw his bag to the ground and started forward, only to find himself caught by two other guys, one on each of his arms. Shawn looked to each side, and pulled his arms against their hold, but it was no use, their grip was unmovable. He looked up just as another figure moved in from the shadows. Jacob. Shawn groaned. "So now you two are buddies, huh?"
"Buddies?" Vance looked genuinely surprised and then recognition crossed his face. "Oh, you mean, Jacob?" He laughed. "No. Jacob and I are cousins—well, step cousins."
"What the hell do you want with us?" Shawn asked, still struggling against his restraints.
Vance's eyes turned hard. "I want what should be mine." He pulled Camila hard against his body. She yelped and pushed against him, trying to free herself from his grasp, but it was no use. "I claimed her first."
Shawn released a contrived laugh. "Claimed her? Is that what you call drugging her?"
"Some girls need a little help to loosen up."
"You tried to take her against her will, just like now."
Vance turned back to Camila, wrapping both hands around her biceps and holding her up against his chest. Shawn could see her arching away from him as far as she could considering the situation. "Against your will? Is that what you told him, baby?" His nose traced along her jaw.
Camila shuddered and looked away. Shawn pulled again against the two holding him.
"Did you tell him about how I held you close to me all night? How your body molded to mine so perfectly."
"We were dancing. That's what happens when you dance."
Shawn heard the tremor in her voice as she spoke and knew she was scared. He wanted to make her feel safe again, but he couldn't do that being trapped as he was. Lifting his foot, he kicked back, swiping the leg of one of the guys behind him. His grip loosened enough for Shawn to almost wriggle free before the guy caught hold of his arm once more, griping it even tighter than before.
Vance looked up and narrowed his eyes. "Take care of him," he said to Jacob.
Jacob grinned and stepped in front of Shawn. "With pleasure." He swung back and released his fist into Shawn's stomach.
Shawn coughed and leaned forward, his breath catching as he tried to breathe in but he couldn't draw in enough air. He heard Camila yelling something, his name maybe, but he couldn't be sure with the roar of blood and rage filling his mind. Jacob drew back once more, but Shawn had enough time to tighten his abs and deflect most of the hit—not that it didn't still hurt. After a few more stomach hits and an extremely painful rib shot, Shawn heard Camila pleading with Vance.
"Stop, just stop, please."
Shawn looked up, his anger tripling when he saw Camila's wide eyes and Vance's arms wrapped around her.
"What are you going to do for me if I stop it, sweetness? Hmm?"
"Mila, don't," Shawn said, just as Jacob lashed out with another rib shot. He groaned and wobbled on his feet as the pain radiated across his throbbing ribs.
"What's he worth to you, baby? Huh? How about," Vance paused and a sinister smile spread across his lips, "a kiss? That's easy enough, right?"
"Damn it. Leave her alone, you bastard!" Shawn spat, earning himself another punch to the stomach. He drooped forward, coughing and gagging against the blood coming up into his mouth. Looking up, he met Camila's eyes and shook his head, wanting her to know that no matter what they did to him he didn't want her to sell herself out to Vance.
Camila's eyes hardened and she turned back to Vance. With a look of determination, she took in a breath and spat right in Vance's smug face. "I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last man alive."
Shawn smiled and Vance closed his eyes as the spit trailed down his face. When he opened his eyes again, a look of defiance crossed his face and he thrust forward, crashing his mouth to Camila's. She let out a screech and struggled against him, but he just held her tighter. Shawn pulled against his captors once more, so hard he felt as though he was tearing something in his arms. He roared in frustration as he watched helplessly while Vance tried to kiss his girl.
Camila never ceased in fighting back and finally opened her mouth enough to latch onto Vance's lip with her teeth, biting down hard enough to cause him to yelp and loosen his hold. With that, Camila took advantage of his distraction and brought her knee up into his groin as hard as she could. Vance yelled out and stumbled back, freeing Camila completely.
"Go!" Shawn managed just as Jacob's fist connected with his cheek.
"No! I'm not leaving you!" she yelled back and launched herself at Jacob, clinging to his back and pounding her fists against him.
With a frustrated cry, he thrust her off him and onto her back where Vance promptly pounced on her. She screamed as he climbed on top of her and grabbed her wrists, holding them on either side of her head.
"What the hell is going on here?" Zayn's voice came from off to the side.
Shawn turned toward the sound and found Zayn, along with five other members of his team coming toward them. The two guys holding Shawn released him immediately and he fell to his knees, unable to hold himself up any longer. He gasped for breath and hunched over, coughing up blood and spitting it into the grass.
A scuffle ensued around him, but he couldn't find the energy to lift his head. Shouts and cries and fists against skin filled the area. Soon, a soft hand touched his back and brown curls formed a protective curtain in front of his face.
"Are you all right?" Camila's trembling warm breath fanned over the skin of his neck.
He glanced to the side and met her eyes. They were wide and frightened. He nodded and she reached forward, running her thumb over his lip and whipping away the blood smeared on his mouth. "Are you?"
She nodded in return and took in a shuddering breath. "I thought they were gonna ... God ..."
Shawn straightened up, ignoring the protests in his ribs, and reached forward, cupping her cheek. "It's okay." He turned toward the fight ensuing around them and saw all of Vance's posse lying on the ground, bloody and bruised. "I think it's just about over. Although, I'm a bit peeved I didn't get a shot in." Turning back to her, he grinned. "Though I must say that you, Mila, were amazing."
Her cheeks turned a vibrate shade of crimson and she looked down. "I'm sorry about all this. I know it's my fault and—"
Shawn silenced her with a finger to the lips. "It's not your fault that he's a douche of the highest order. But I do think it's time to report him, don't you?"
She nodded and stood, holding her hands out to him. "Can you stand?"
He reached up and took her palms, wincing as he got to his feet. Camila wrapped her arm carefully around his waist and he draped his over her shoulder.
"Let's go home," she said.
Shawn nodded and brushed his lips on the top of her head. "Just one thing before we go," he said as they walked past where Vance lay. Leaning over him, Shawn said, "This is the last time I'm going to tell you to stay away from Camila. I'll be ready next time and you won't have the chance to touch her again." With that, he drew back his foot and buried it into Vance's side, earning himself a loud groan. Smiling, he turned back to Camila. "Okay, I'm ready now."
She shook her head and started leading him toward the parking lot. "Boys."
___________________________________________________________________
When Shawn and Camila arrived back at the Jauregui's, the house stood dark. Camila led Shawn up the stairs into the bathroom.
"Sit," she ordered and pointed to the toilet.
Shawn closed the lid and sat down, grimacing against the pangs in his side and the throbbing in his head. Camila opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out some cotton balls, bandaids, peroxide, and antibiotic ointment. She walked over to where he sat and knelt down in front of him, her eyes catching his.
"Take off your shirt," she said quietly.
He smirked. "You just love getting me shirtless, don't you?"
She narrowed her eyes and then grinned. "Shut up and do it."
He chuckled and reached up to remove his t-shirt, groaning at how stiff he felt. Sensing his discomfort, Camila grabbed the hem, pulling it over his head for him. Once it was removed, she gasped and her eyes grew wide. Shawn looked down and caught sight of what caused her reaction. Across both sides of his ribs and trailing up onto his chest were a smattering of large purple bruises.
"God," Camila whispered, touching a finger lightly to his skin.
He bent down and rested his forehead on the top of her head. "I'm all right."
She looked up, uncertainty in her gaze. "Are you sure? Maybe we should take you to the hospital. I mean, something could be broken."
Shawn traced her cheeks with his fingers, meeting her eyes. "I've had worse."
Camila closed her eyes and lowered her head, leaning forward and brushing her lips against each and every bruise. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
Shawn cupped her cheeks and moved her face until she looked up at him once more. "It's not your fault."
"Yes, it is. He did this to you because of me."
He leaned forward and touched her lips with his. "Stop it."
"But I don't want you hurt because of me."
"Mila, I would die for you. Don't you know that?"
Her breath caught. "Don't say that."
"Why? It's true."
She let out a shaky breath. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Shawn watched while Camila swiped the peroxide soaked cotton ball across his cheek, wincing when he did, and covering the cut with antibiotic then gently pressing a bandaid over it. She handed him two pain relievers and a glass of water then stood. "There."
"Thank you," he said as he rose from his seated position. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her softly and then leaned his forehead against hers. "Come on. I have something for you."
She raised her brows but didn't speak as she followed him out of the bathroom and into his room. He gestured toward the bed. "Sit."
Camila did as he asked, and he walked to his dresser, opening the top drawer and pulling out the small velvet bag he'd placed there earlier. A flurry of nervousness flowed through him as he turned back to her. He'd never given a girl a gift before and didn't quite know how to go about it. When he reached her, he knelt and looked down at his hands. He swallowed against his anxiety.
"Ever since you told me it was your birthday, I've wracked my brain trying to figure out what to give you." He looked up and gave her a small smile. She returned it. "I don't believe in giving gifts just because. I feel like they should be significant. That they should mean something, not only to the receiver but also to the giver." He swallowed again and loosened the tie on top of the bag. "I thought this would do that for both of us."
Tipping the small bag upside down, he emptied the contents into his palm. A small bi-colored charm bracelet sparkled against his hand. Camila gasped and Shawn grabbed a hold of the end, pulling it up and reaching out for her with his other hand. He wrapped the tiny chain around her wrist and clasped it carefully, twisting it so the small heart with the letter "C" sat on top.
With his eyes trained on the bracelet, he whispered, "It was my mother's. Her favorite."
Camila raised her hand to cover her mouth, tears glistening in her eyes. "Shawn, you don't have to—"
"I want to," he said and scooted forward, placing his hands on her hips. "I remember her telling me about how much she loved it. That it was a gift from my father and her most favorite thing in the whole world." He raised his eyes to hers. "You're my most favorite thing, Mila. And she would have loved for you to have it."
Tears spilled over her cheeks and she ran her fingers along his jaw. "You're my most favorite thing too. Thank you. I love it."
"Good." He grinned.
Camila moved her hands to his hair, twisted her fingers in it, and pulled him forward, capturing his lips with hers. "I love you. So much."
Shawn kissed her back, his fingers digging into her hips and pulling her forward and off the bed with him. Just then, his door slammed open and Lauren stood in the doorway, her face pale and breath ragged.
Her eyes fell to Shawn's bruised abdomen and widened with disbelief just as Camila thrust his shirt back at him.
"I—I'm sorry for—interrupting, but Shawn, you really need to come downstairs."
He pulled the shirt over his head and stood. "Lauren, what's going on?"
"Just—come." She disappeared through the door.
Shawn looked at Camila and grabbed her hand, leading her out the door and down the stairs. Voices filtered into the hall from the living room area. Shawn frowned and stepped into the room, his heart dropping into his stomach at what awaited him. Several people he didn't know, all dressed in black with guns strapped to their hips, along with Clarissa and Michael, surrounded another man dressed exactly the same—this one he knew well. The man turned, and Shawn's eyes widened as his grip on Camila's hand tightened, his chest squeezing against his already sore ribs.
The man smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. "Hello, son."