AMELIA

"Oh, Princess, you're dangling out of the window from the fifth floor like a clapper, and yet you'll say I'm the stubborn one," he chuckles playfully.

I am glad he finds it funny.

"You should leave," I grumble.

"See, I said it. You'll blame me, and you just prove me right," he counters, pointing his fingers as though he just guessed the hardest number.

Embarrassed, I lower my eyes, and there I find a group of students whose concentration has clearly shifted to Cam; you can hear their giggles from here.

Pathetic.

"You should go sign autographs," I spitefully mock without looking at him.

"Only if you'll be my pretend paparazzi since I'm famous for nothing," he plays along, not like I mean, I reckon it is intentional.

"You might want to ask Harper for permission though," I fire back, and there's a pause then. He's no more making jokes or finding me funny.

"How about you come up, and I'll tell you something," he says instead, his hands leaning by the outer sill.

Does he think I'm stupid? I won't touch him.

A laugh slips out of me. "If you can't tell, Cameron, I can't move," I fume, and he sighs.

"Okay. Is it okay? Just hold tight; I'll pull you up," he says, and every fiber of me reacts quickly.

"No, I don't want you to; let Isaac do."

"What? You have choices in this situation?" he gasps, staring at me like I said something ridiculous. It's all a trap of his. I stand by my words, I will not touch him.

"Yes, I do, as every human, Cam. Just because I live in your home doesn't deprive me of my human rights," I spat, and his brow rises.

He shrugs his lips and nods.

"But in this case, Isaac can't. You only have me so safe you," he brags, and I whine.

Fuck my life.

My arms hurt worse with each passing second.

"Look, I won't touch you," he begins as though he read my mind, and my eyes dart sharply at him, warning him not to continue. "Let me get you out of here and then tell you what I came to do because it's important, and then I will leave."

Tell me that he can't stop thinking about me. No, I do not want to hear a thing from his stupid lips.

"Do not tell me."

"Okay," he surrenders his hands. "I will not," he retorts.

Exhaling, knowing my arms wouldn't survive another minute hanging out here, I nod with a pressed lip. "Okay."

Cam beams, feeling heroic, like he wasn't the one who got me into this position in the first place.

My eyes roll at his ego, and I close them in fear, clasping the sheet even more as my body begins moving upward.

Hands hook around my back. No. My torso collides with his. No. His scent is the first thing I breathe into my lungs as I inhale for the first time the moment my feet touch the ground. I refuse to open my eyes because I know his eyes would be what I would first see.

Weird emotions revive within me, and my heart quickens in his proximity. I've never felt more conscious than with his hands encircling me, yet intoxicated because not even a bottle of tequila made me this paralyzed.

There was applause from outside through the window. I guess tomorrow there will be a newspaper saying Cameron Reynolds saved the day.

"You said you would let me go. Let me go now," I practically beg, yet simmering with agitation.

"Yeah," he whispers, his voice deep and raspy.

Then I'm relieved from immobility. My eyes open, finding Cam stepping back, putting a distance between us.

Malia squeezes around his side and rushes over to me, hugging me.

"That was dumb," she scolds, laughing. I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips, and when she pulled back, my eyes tracked her. I catch Cam smiling too.

He also said he'll leave. "Cam-" I start, but he cuts me off.

"Your mother and stepfather are at our house."

"What?"

How?

"Jake called and said they were coming to see you. I got them settled, and they couldn't reach your phone," he explains calmly like this is all normal.

"That's what you came to tell me?"

"Yes. What else?" He scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Your mom is worried about you, though," he adds, folding his lips between his teeth.

"And you just couldn't say it sooner?" I exclaim. What is wrong with him?

"When was I supposed to say it? When you were busy throwing yourself outside the window away from me or when you asked me not to say shit?" He yells equally as loud.

"You just like humiliating me, don't you? Now my parents so you can later use your unwanted service against me. I can take care of my parents, Cam. Stop interfering in my life, fucking stop it." I shout, pulling at my hair from its roots, for I am feeling all the hate in this world.

I just know him, he's done this with Jake and now he's doing it with my parents. But that's the boundaries he doesn't get to cross. I won't let him.

"Is that what first came to your mind?" He shakes his head, his eyes narrow.

"You are unbelievable." I grab my shoes and slip into them, hooking back the strands of hair behind my ears.

"Why is everything my fault? I act rude, you cuss me. I act nice, you say I am too nice; you prefer me not kind at all. Oh, like now, I am accused of having some terrorist plan up my sleeve that you, Miss Detective have already uncovered." He follows me everywhere around as I look for my phone and keeps blaming me for all the problems of his life. "I talk, you call me a narcissist. I kept quiet, but suddenly I committed a crime. What do you want?" He grabs my arm, stopping me from leaving, as I pocket my phone.

His gaze smoldered with intensity, and his breaths came in quick, uneven rhythms.

"I want you to stop. To leave me alone and get out of my life," I spat, and he smirks viciously like the villain he is.

"Unfortunately, Princess, that's impossible," he bluntly replies, dipping his head towards me. Rage surges in me; it took everything in me to not slap him. "You live under the same roof as me. There will always be you and me. I've stained you first even before Jake can."

Jerk.

"And even on your wedding day, when you end up marrying him with buried disloyalty, I will be the best man, making the little unchaste speech. It will be the three of us. Then I will be the godfather to your children. And we will be a big happy family. It will be weird because you will always lose your breath around me. Possibly you'll end up giving Jake some children of mine without his knowledge because you don't feel anything for him anymore. Yet, your pride like now will keep you basking in the safety of a relationship that's long dead, and you know it," He arrogantly smirks, knowing he has said enough to leave me wounded.

That did it. The vortex of wrath inside me erupts. I go for his face, but he's quick; he grabs my wrist, stopping my hand some inches away from his idiotic face.

"Do not get used to it." He grumbles the warning. My lips quiver and tears blur my vision.

"Cameron!" Isaac rushes over, shoving his chest until he lets go of me and is not in my way.

I run out of the room without looking back.

I swear I am leaving his house; I am getting a car. I am so done with him. I hate him.