“The fuck we are.”
“Really, Gray, hanging around with that mechanic is having a bad effect on you. We don’t use those words in…”
“Woman, seriously. What in the hell would make you think we are dating?”
“You kissed me. Are you going to deny it?”
My stomach churns. I do remember that kiss, and I remember hating every second I endured it, but how the fuck we went from there to her even thinking in her damn mind that we are dating is what’s beyond me. What if she tells that shit to CC?
“You kissed me!” And fuck, now she has me screeching like a banshee.
“You didn’t pull away. Listen, Gray, I know you’ve been messing around with Claude, but honestly, you can’t see her as anyone long-term. A woman like that…”
“A woman like what?”
“A woman with her history. Surely you can’t think…”
Before she can go any further, the sprinklers turn on. For a second, we’re both standing there stunned and it doesn’t hit us what’s going on. Actually, my first thought is that it had begun raining. Yet when I look up, the sky is a beautiful dusk—not quite dark yet, as it’s painted a variety of colors that remind me of home. As the water pressure picks up and I hear the little motorized propellers and feel more of it hit me, I finally realize what’s going on. My head jerks up when I hear Cammie screaming. I look at her and she’s drenched, her big fancy sequined dress looking just droopy now. Her makeup is rolling down her face, the mascara so dark and runny she looks something akin to a raccoon. I grab her hand, more so she’ll stop screaming than anything else, and we take off running towards the club. Running however, is a relative term; Cammie is wearing heels—the kind with points on them that could probably kill a man—so it’s definitely more like a steady walk-jog. I think we’re almost home free when her ankle turns on the grass and she nearly falls. My hold on her and her knee keep her from completely going down.
As much as I don’t want to, I pick her up and quickly walk to the entrance. I set her down and she’s barely hit the floor before she wobbles, picking up her long dress and walking into the entrance. I can do nothing but follow, especially when a wet Riverton and his buddy come up behind us.
I look immediately for CC, just needing to make sure she’s okay. The only thing on my mind is to get my girl and get the fuck out of here. I should have known with women it is never that easy.
“Claudia Cooper, you did this!” Cammie screeches, and everything seems to come to a halt as if in slow motion—all the music, the talk, and the chatter. Hell, even the servers stop moving, and all eyes go to CC who is standing there looking beautiful and entirely too close to some fucking man. Cammie pretty much resembles a drowned rat.
Shit.
I can’t deny the glee that runs through me as I hear Cammie’s familiar and ultra-annoying shriek. I’m talking with Jason again and I school my face to show nothing but dismay. Years of dealing with shit like this makes it easy. As if on cue, I gasp when I turn around. When I see Cammie standing there like the drenched rat she is, I have to admit, it’s not that hard. Behind her is Gray and he’s wet, but he doesn’t look mad. No, there’s something else in his eyes—almost humor. Behind him are Cammie’s dad and some other man I’ve forgotten the name of.
I turn my eyes back to Cammie, taking in her ruined hair, the running mascara, and her dress… oh my. Wearing no bra was definitely a bad fashion decision; getting that white material wet made the dress see-through. Whoops.
“Cammie! Oh my God! What happened to you?” I ask, doing my best to lace my voice with disbelief and shock. Gray coughs in the background and I refuse to look at him because he might see through me—you know, as easily as I can Cammie’s dress.
The girl really should invest in support bras.
“You know exactly what happened to me! You did this!”
“I did? I hardly think I can control the weather, Cammie. We should get you some towels or something to cover you up. I’m afraid you’re flashing the whole club, sweetheart.”
Behind me, Jason laughs as well as a few others. Damn, did I fail to keep my tone from being sarcastic there? Did I give myself away?
Gray takes off his jacket, which is really wet, and puts it over Cammie, hiding her ta-tas.
“Is my daughter right? Did you do this, Claudia?”
My head jerks around. God, how I hate this man and the fact that he thinks it’s okay to talk to me in that tone. I’m taken aback for a minute because honestly, David Riverton has not spoken to me in years. Years. But while I’m trying to form words and swallow down the bitterness I have where this man is concerned, Gray tries to defend me.