The words had a heavy feel to them as if someone had dropped an anvil on her foot. Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip almost willing her not to ask, but she had to. “I’m sure you have a suggestion.”
His eyes lit up before he planted a quick kiss on her hair. Stella’s eyes scanned the area checking out a theory she’d been formulating for the past couple of weeks. No one was around for the fast hair kiss. As far as being a couple, Stella confirmed theirs was an undercover relationship. Simply put, she served as Cam’s friend with benefits. Even though they went places together like the grocery, the Laundromat and occasional game. The fact they always met at his apartment instead of him coming to pick her up made her sound like a delivery service. Need sex delivered to your door? Call I 800 Dumb Ho.
A light touch to her elbow got her moving in the direction of the library building. “Stella, you’re working at the computer center still?”
“Yes.” Of course, she was. Since it was her only source of money, why wouldn’t she be working there? She didn’t have the luxury of having rich parents as Cam did. Her steps slowed since she didn’t see the use of heading for a building she had no plans to visit today.
“Good. That’s what I hoped, but we don’t talk much.”
He got that right. They ate together, went places together, watch television shows he liked, and had sex about as often as they could, but talking was the one thing they didn’t do. To be more exact, Cam didn’t contribute much. Sometimes she might be over at his place folding laundry or fixing dinner while chattering about something she’d learned that day. It took a few more attempts at sharing before she realized he didn’t pay attention. Shouldn’t be too surprising, most people didn’t enjoy learning the way she did.
“Yeah.” She knew she wasn’t contributing much, rather like asking a blind man for directions. On second thought, a blind man would be better informed. Didn’t they have to count their steps and everything?
Two smiling co-eds with shampoo commercial worthy hair and shirts that dipped low to display their twin assets waved. They spoke in breathy unison reminding her of the ads for the gentleman clubs. “Hi Cam.”
While he didn’t reply, he gave a slow salute that acknowledged their greeting. Seriously. She elbowed him earning a grunt for her effort. Most girls would wear a camisole or tank top under those shirts. Talk about desperate. Who were they? Did he sleep with them too? Were they hoping for a return visit? The thoughts flew through her head making her uncomfortable. Asking would reveal her insecurities. Instead, she consoled herself with the thought that they were too obvious and fake to attract him. So far, her small interaction with the male species demonstrated they preferred obvious and fake.
They walked in silence for a few steps allowing the overly friendly females to pass out of hearing range. “Why does me working at the computer center have anything to do with proving my love?”
Instead of answering her question, he bestowed one of his sexy as hell smiles on her. The man must practice in the mirror to do it so effortlessly.
“You’re able to get into the personnel files and stuff, right?” His right brow arched as if it were asking too.
“Yeah, but I don’t think you want the address of the hot new psych prof that all the girls have been hounding me for.” The prof was a cutie, but she didn’t dare give out that kind of information. No doubt, it’d come back to her even if the girls in question didn’t blab. She managed to work her way up through the ranks in the computer work-study students. The director gave her more responsibility than students who had been there longer. Told her he could trust her, which meant more to her than the badly needed raise.
Cam’s brow knitted as his eyes flicked upward. “You mean that short dude who always wears a fedora?”
“Yes.” Cam probably compared him to his own height and found the man lacking. Whatever the man lacked in height, he made up for in charisma and wit. At first, she felt rather special knowing she could look up the prof’s phone number at any time. Not that she’d do anything with it, she wouldn’t.
“What does he have that’d interest women?” The smug tone of voice indicated the man wasn’t any competition in his mind.
Good question and a harder one to explain to another male, she settled for a word. “Panache, he has panache.”
A snort served as his initial rebuttal. “Panache. If you have to go looking for a foreign word that I don’t know the meaning of, then it means nothing. It must be some fluke brought on by the climate, hormones or pumping some chemical into the classroom.”
It amused her a little that Cam refused to accept there were other attractive men on campus. He didn’t own sex appeal. “Panache means having verve, style—“
“I didn’t ask what it meant.” He interrupted before she had time to finish her statement. Cam hated being told anything. He preferred to live in a world of ignorance while her world consisted of gathering information. Talk about opposites.
His fingers entangling with hers surprised her. This was unlike him. A new romantic side could be emerging. A gradual unease that had been growing about their relationship died a fast death with simple handholding. It was a declaration of sorts to anyone who saw that she was important to Cameron Winters or was she?