Redeeming You(39)

Dazed, her hand fumbled with the doorknob, suddenly feeling slick and awkward under her hand. When the knob finally turned, she swung it open, slamming his door and her door as quickly as possible behind her, trying to erect as many physical walls and barriers between her and Cam as possible because the mental ones were long gone. Cam was under her skin and now he hated her as much as everyone else in her life.

Tears streamed down her face with a vengeance and whether they came from embarrassment, anger, fear, disappoint or some warped combination of all of them, she couldn’t tell. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she act normal for once?





CHAPTER THIRTEEN





As Cam downed the third small bottle from the hotel mini bar — two vodkas and one gin—he realized it probably wasn’t a smart combination, but he’d worry about that tomorrow. He didn’t understand what the hell just happened. Even as he dropped the third bottle on the floor next to his bed, he suspected that no matter how much he drank, it wouldn’t become any clearer. It didn’t make sense.

He leaned back resting against the headboard. Honestly, every word she said about him was truthful. For the last few years, he had cheated on, lied to, and used the women who walked in and out of his life like a revolving door, and now, when Taylor had so bluntly thrown it back in his face, it hurt, but self-reflection usually did. He hated looking in the mirror only to the see the ugliness of his choices reflected back at him.

He cheated on Bre when he promised to protect her. He treated the groupies as though they were disposable, hardly bothering to learn their names and over the last month, his reckless behavior hurt the band. Yet, for some reason, he got it in his head that things could be different with Taylor, that she could be his redemption, that she was the beginning of a new chapter in his life. He wasn’t looking for that until he found her, but now he wanted it, and he wanted it with her.

He laughed bitterly. It was telling that when he finally wanted to try something with someone, the person he chose didn't think he was worthy. He couldn’t even blame her. The evidence of his cringe inducing lack of worth was posted all over the Internet in animated detail for anyone to see.

Groaning, he stuffed a pillow over the top of his face, willing his mind to stop turning over every sad detail and fall asleep. Chasing Ruin had a show tomorrow and the guys wouldn’t appreciate him showing up hung over with circles under his eyes. Even if Taylor didn’t believe he could change, he would because he needed the band. Music was his life. In truth, it was the only thing still working in his life. Without it, he’d be a shattered fragment of himself.

Just then, the door to Taylor’s room opened hesitantly. He leaned up on his elbows, but the room was dark and he couldn’t see much in the shadows.

“Cam, did I wake you?” Taylor asked, her voice soft, a little shaky and a lot vulnerable.

“No,” he answered rubbing his eyes trying to bring her into focus. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Neither could I,” she answered without elaborating.

He could hear her breathing slow and even in the stubborn silence of his room. She took a couple steps toward him and then stopped a few feet from his side of the bed, wringing her hands nervously. He was drowning in the uncomfortable silence of the room.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice a little harsher than he had intended, but he didn’t want to deal with her now.

“I don’t know,” she responded looking down at the floor, her hair falling in front of her face and he didn’t like that he couldn’t see what she was thinking.

He tossed his legs to the side of the bed and a small empty bottle of vodka rolled onto the floor next to her bare feet.

“You’ve been drinking,” she commented without emotion.

“So what?” He took a sip of the water from the bottle sitting on the edge of his nightstand. “Add it to my list of sins. You’ve made it clear I have plenty of them. What’s one more, right? I can’t get any worse in your mind.”

Her body went rigid and he exhaled loudly. He ran his hands through his messy hair. How did the night end up like this? “Can you just leave? Please. I don’t know why you’re here, but I can’t do this right now.” She flinched and he felt guilty. His past wasn’t her fault. He fucked everything up on his own and apparently fate had a sick sense of humor, throwing it in his face at every opportunity for the last year.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking on the last word.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” She sat next to him on the bed and part of him wanted to get up and leave and part of him wanted to take her in his arms, inhale her dizzying scent, and never let go. He didn’t do anything except stare straight ahead.