Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

FRAT HOUSE.

SATURDAY.

00:12.

I can only hear his breathing. It’s shallow and slow. I can feel it on my lips as well, my nose, maybe my forehead.

He’s moving. He’s fucking moving. He got taller as well; I feel like a fricking midget just standing next to him. A 5’2 midget.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

I swallow deeply. I thought Jimmy’s voice was sensual. Fuck, I’m delusional. Dylan’s voice went from husky bad boy to orgasm level hot.

He’s by my ear now.

“Who’s following me?”

I blurt. I’ve gone from bold and daring to low. Too low. I’ll blame hysteria for thinking someone’s trailing me, since the only other option must admit Dylan’s closeness is affecting all my senses. I won’t.

I’ll ignore my racing heart, which is threatening to jump out of its cage, how every hair on every part of my body is tingling with the slightest contact, and I’ll deny how my core throbbed with just the sound of his voice.

I’ll rebuke it under oath because Dylan can’t do this to me. I vowed not to let him.

“I don’t know, Darlin.”

The new nickname. Fuck. My legs squeezed of their own accord. I had nothing to do with it. His voice jolted down to my core and I seethed, forcing my head to face him.

Another dim light. Another glimpse.

His features have evolved in eight months. How do you develop chiselled jaws? Fuller lips?

I’m tempted to reach out and touch, but I can’t. Can I?

*You can’t Camilla.*

“So you were following someone who was following me? Which means you were following me?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Camilla?”

The spell is broken because it isn’t the sound of Dylan’s voice. A third voice boom amidst the back and forth. Jimmy.

“Your date.”

Dylan curses. His jaw tightens, and he moves away.

“I should go.”

No response. I slid out from the alley back into the main road, checking both sides. The only human in sight was Jimmy. Could his shadow have been what I saw?

“God, I thought I lost you or something. I’m sorry the phone call took so long. I had some issues to sort out. Did you go back inside?”

He nudges towards the party, but I preoccupied my mind with everything else but him. Dylan. Someone is following me. Or not?

Dylan wouldn’t lie, right? It’s absurd for someone to trail me, but he wouldn’t try to deceive me about something like that. *You don’t know him.*

Inner me reminds. She’s smart. I should listen to her.

“Or maybe he was the stalker…”

My subconscious taunts, and I realize. Dylan was stalking me. He’s been here this entire time. Does he go to Cal-U or what?

“Camilla?”

Jimmy drapes his arm over my shoulder, tugging me towards his skin. But unlike the last two kisses, there isn’t any sensation. I barely flinch.

“I’m sorry. I had to adjust my shirt, but I’m fine.”

I plastered my best tight smile. Jimmy buys it and pulls me towards his chest. I overlook his head and glance at the alley. Dylan’s watching. I can tell.

“Let’s continue our walk, shall we?”

Tugging me sideways, he links our fingers once again and dives into a new conversation. One I do not listen to or let it sink into my mind.

My entire mind, soul, and body are fixated on him. He’s back. He’s fucking back. I don’t turn. I’m afraid if I do, I’ll let go of Jimmy and run right back because I have a lot of questions.

Questions only he can answer. And maybe, just maybe, I want it. I want him. Fucking hell, there’s no deliberation, I do. My body, at least.

******

“If it were up to me, I’ll take another tour around school or something, but I should let you get some rest. It’s already one am.”

“You will not suggest I go back to your dorm…”

I smirk.

*Why did I just say that?*

He leaned in, flicking his eyes down to my lips for a split second.

“I’m not…”

He hums, brushing his lips over mine, then stepping back.

“Such a gentleman.”

I clicked my tongue, pushing the key into the keyhole.

“Alright then. Goodnight Jimmy.”

I mutter.

“Good morning Camilla.”Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

My face breaks into a grin, then I push myself upwards, pecking his cheek before opening the door with my other free arm.

“I will see you in class tomorrow, then we can discuss second dates.”

He winks, then retreats.

Smiling softly, I wander into my room and shut the door, clicking the lock and tossing my shoes at the same time.

Spying Miranda’s side of the bed, which is still messy, waiting for her return, which I doubt will be soon. She was playing poker when we left.

Sighing, I reach for the hem of my shirt when a knock interrupts my undressing mode.

Déjà vu.

*Miranda wouldn’t knock.*

I recall my first thought that night and shudder. It feels too fucking similar.

Strutting towards the door, I lift my weight and check the keyhole.

Not fucking taking chances. My heart skips a beat for a second, but no one’s there.

Fucking weird. I heard a knock. I’m sure of it.

Turning away, I reach for my shirt again when the doorknob clicks.

The fuck?

“It’s me, Darlin.”

I freeze feet away from the door.

Oh, no. Oh no. No. No.

Squeezing my eyes tightly, I hold my breath and try not to react. If I play dumb, maybe he’ll leave.

“I know you’re in there. I saw you fucking come up with him.”

I don’t miss the venom in his tone at the mention of *him*

I swallow harder.

Taking a deep breath, I march towards the door and pull it wide open.

“Aren’t you supposed to be halfway across this fucking state!?”

I yell into the hallway, breathing through my mouth. People are sleeping. I need to calm down.

Then, his face breaks into a smile. And fuck if that isn’t gorgeous. I wince and step away. The more distance, the better.

I scan him swiftly. Black denim jeans. Black jacket. Zipped up. He grew his hair; it looks even better. More ruffled. It’ll feel heavenly to run my fingers through them.

Oh, snap out of it. Snap out of it, Camilla.

“I am.”

He answers cooly.

“You’re clearly not if you’re right in front of me.”

I ball my fist with a glare.

“Know what? I don’t care. I do not care to know why you’re in Cal-U and not New York. I’m only bothered about why I’ve seen you twice tonight when we agreed never to speak to each other again.”

His face hardened.

“We didn’t agree. You agreed.”

I glare even harder.

“The fuck? You’ve been away for eight months!? Why the hell are you coming back now?”

“Right moment.”

He shrugs.

“You’re kidding. You’re fucking joking.”

“Someone was trailing you tonight.”

“Yes. You.”

I nearly poke my fingers into his eyes.

“Yes, I was trailing you, but someone else was as well.”

I scoff.

“Right, some other mysterious person was following me.”

Can I hiss now?

“I mean it.”

He sounds annoyed.

“Thank you for trying to protect me, Dylan.”

Crossing my arms around my chest, I roll my eyes and straighten up. His eyes are roaming around my body, making me self aware.

“I’m telling the truth.”

“Right, because that’s your strong suit.”

I retort. He winces and shuts his eyes. I’m annoyed as well.

“Bloody hell!?”

He yells, slipping an entire hand into his hair. *Fuck I want to touch it.*

Get. A. Grip.

“Why are you here?”

“Nothing. Your date clearly took good care of you.”

That’s sarcasm. I scoff once more.

“Yes. He did.”

“It was clear as day. I should go.”

“You should.”

I clench my fists harder.

“Fuck.”

He curses while turning away.

“I’m sorry.”

He whispers against his lips. I heard him though. As though it was amplified by a speaker and implanted in my mind.

Then he strides away.

*I’m sorry*

I fall back until I’m up against the door inside my room.

****

*Thoughts!!!???*