Camilla's POV,
I had barely made it out the door before Liam appeared, leaning against his car with that insufferable grin plastered across his face.
"Cammy, get in. I'm taking you to school today," he said, twirling his keys.
I rolled my eyes because no argument would make Liam surrender. "Fine. But don't even think about dropping me off at the school itself—just a few blocks away. I'll handle the rest."
"And don't ask me why," I added quickly.
We slid into the car, and I stared out the window, biting hard on my nails. The morning felt off already, like something was waiting to tip my whole world sideways. When his phone screen lit up with an incoming FaceTime call, Liam's grin widened as he swiped to answer.
"Hey, buddy!" Liam's eyes sparkled with genuine excitement.
A voice I didn't recognize murmured from the other end, then suddenly shot up in volume. "Would you be around? I'm coming to town today."
Liam laughed softly, nodding. "Yeah, man. Actually, perfect timing… I gotta bounce for a few days. Emergency with the gallery in Dallas. You can crash at the house, keep an eye on Cam for me."
My head snapped toward him. *Keep an eye on me?* I'm twenty years old, not twelve.
"I, uh… I gotta do something real quick. Can you…" He held out the phone toward me, still on FaceTime, and my eyes widened.
"Wait… me?"
"Yeah. Just… help me out already."
I took the phone reluctantly, my curiosity warring with annoyance. I pushed my glasses forward and looked down at the screen in my hands. The face staring back at me was unfamiliar but striking; sharp jawline, dark tousled hair, and eyes that seemed to look straight through the camera and into me. Something about him made my stomach flip in a way I didn't want to examine.
My head suddenly flicked back to the road, and I thrust the phone away from my face, heat crawling up my neck.
"Liam, I don't need a babysitter," I muttered, shoving the phone back at him.
"It's not babysitting, Cam. It's just... I'll feel better knowing someone's there. After what happened last semester with Derek–"
"That was one time, and I handled it."
"You didn't handle it. 'I' handled it." His voice was firm now, older-brother mode fully activated. "Just for three days. Please."
I didn't answer, just crossed my arms and glared out the window as we pulled up a few blocks from school. Before I could escape, he caught my wrist gently.
"His name is Theon. My best friend. Be nice."
Theon. The name triggered something, a fragment of memory I couldn't quite grasp. I pulled away and climbed out without another word.
~~~~~~~~
After a long, tiresome day at school—the usual crap with classmates cornering me between classes, shoving their half-finished assignments at me with fake smiles—I walked into the house and slammed the door behind me. My backpack felt like it was full of rocks, the straps digging painfully into my shoulders.
The bullying is constant, although on most days it's very subtle. The side comments whispered under their breath, the eye rolls, the laughs as I walked past. They eat away at me far more than I like to admit.
I let my bag drop with a heavy thud by the door and kicked off my shoes hard. One skidded under the coffee table and the other bounced off the wall with a smack. Then I flopped face-first onto the couch, sinking deep into the cushions.
My whole body ached from the stress I'd been lugging around all day. My neck was tight and my head throbbed slightly.
I heard footsteps approaching, slow and deliberate. I lifted my head just enough to glance over, and froze.
A guy stepped into the room. He was tall, easily over six feet, and the broad set of his shoulders filled the doorway. His dark hair was messy, like he'd run his hands through it a hundred times. That jawline. The perfect amount of stubble. And those green eyes that glinted in the afternoon light, pinning me in place.
He was stupidly, unfairly good-looking.
My brain short-circuited, and I just stared like a complete idiot, mouth probably half-open. How does anyone look that perfect in real life? Like he'd walked off a movie set and into my boring living room.
He noticed me staring almost immediately and paused, one eyebrow lifting slightly. A slow, knowing smile curved his lips, the kind that said he was used to this reaction.
"Um… who are you?" I managed, hating how small and unsure my voice sounded.
He gave me that half-smile that made my stomach do a complete flip. "I could ask you the same thing. You look pretty comfortable sprawled out here."
My face was already starting to heat up, but he didn't wait for me to stammer out an answer.
"I'm Theon. Liam's best friend." He moved further into the room, and I caught the scent of him; something warm and woodsy with a hint of spice that made my head spin. "He's letting me crash here for a while to run some work in Texas."
"Oh. Theon." The name clicked into place now, along with that morning's FaceTime call.
"You called this morning," I said, just to fill the silence.
"I did." He moved closer, settling into the armchair across from me, but somehow it still felt too close. He leaned back, completely at ease, his eyes never leaving mine. "And you're Camilla. Liam's told me a lot about you."
"Has he?" I sat up properly now, suddenly hyperaware of how disheveled I must look after a day of hell.
"Yeah." His gaze dragged over me slowly, deliberately, from my messy chestnut curls down to my rumpled clothes. Not leering, but assessing. Appreciating. "Though he left out some important details."
My breath caught. "Like what?"
His smile widened just a fraction. "Like how you look when you're trying not to stare at me."
My cheeks exploded with heat. "I wasn't–I'm not–"
"Sure you weren't." He chuckled, low and rich, the sound vibrating through me in ways that should be illegal.
I grabbed my phone off the coffee table like a lifeline, desperate for any distraction. As if on cue, it buzzed with a text from Liam.
[Liam: Hey squirt. I'm headed to Dallas now. Theon's there, right? Be good. And I mean it! No weird shit. He's off-limits.]
I read the message twice, my stomach twisting into knots. "Off-limits". Of course he was. This was Liam's best friend. The guy I'd be living alone with for three days while my brother was gone.
I risked another glance at Theon. He was watching me with those intense eyes, head tilted slightly like he was trying to figure me out.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Just Liam being Liam." I stood abruptly, needing distance, needing air. "I'm gonna… I need to grab something from upstairs."
"Sure." But the way he said it, the way his eyes followed me as I moved toward the stairs, made it feel like he knew exactly why I was running.
I climbed the stairs quickly, my heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with exertion. When I reached the top, I paused and looked back down.
The
on was still watching me, that same unreadable expression on his face.
And God help me, I couldn't look away.