Author’s Note: A follow-up from my recent fic The Real Thing. I apparently can’t get enough of Damien and Camille and their slow burn lately. This fic flowed way too easily, it was dying to get out. I hope you enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~
Camille’s phone buzzed beside her as she typed furiously on her laptop. The cube farm at the office was starting to clear out for the day, but she was determined to finish her latest project write-up before she departed. She inhaled a deep breath and stretched her arms over head before reaching for her phone to open her messages.
Taco Tuesday at La Hacienda? 6:30? Damien texted. Camille groaned and placed the phone back on her desk face down, wishing she could pretend she hadn’t read it.
To be honest, she had been avoiding Damien since last week and their moment outside the bar. You don’t think I have a deep side? he’d asked her. You know, there is more to me than just being the macho funny guy. The words themselves had been harmless enough, but it was the way he had said them . . . the way he’d looked into her eyes with a sly smile as he spoke. The memory sent chills up her spine. After this interaction, Camille had been quick to decline his invites to meet up for fear that he would be able to see straight through her the moment they met eyes. She wasn’t sure she was ready to put it all on the line just yet, not when she couldn’t fully acknowledge to herself what was happening between them.
A few more minutes passed by as she clicked away on her keyboard, happy for the distraction. Then her phone buzzed again. Again. And again. “Argh! Okay, okay.” She muttered as she picked up her phone again. Three texts from Nadia. Meeting D at La Hacienda, see you there? Then, Cami, stop working and get your ass on your way! And the final impatient note, Camille, stop ignoring me. See you at 6:30. No objections.
Fine, I’m coming. Camille responded. See you soon. She saved her work, logged off her computer, then grabbed her things and walked out the door.
~~~~~~~~~~
She arrive at La Hacienda to the boisterous Tuesday happy hour crowd. Cheap tacos and strong drinks seemed to draw people from out of the woodwork. She searched the crowds until she found Nadia and Damien at a high-top table towards the back of the bar area and started pushing her way towards them. As she approached, she noticed Damien was talking to someone on the opposite side of the table as Nadia. A blond. A blond girl. A blond girl that was batting her eyelashes at him and giggling at whatever he had just said. A sudden sick feeling plunged into her stomach.
Nadia saw her first. “Yay! You came!” She jumped off the bar stool and gave her a quick hug before turning her to the giggly blond eyelash girl. “Sandra, this is my cousin Camille I was telling you about. Cami, this is my friend Sandra I met through work. She works with one of the vendors for the gallery.”
“Camille, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Sandra smiled warmly and waved.
Camille forced a fake smile. “Nice to meet you Sandra.” She turned to Damien and nodded to him. “Hey D, how’s it going?”
“Hey Cami. Haven’t seen you in a while.” He greeted her fondly, but there was an underlying tone of disappointment in his voice.
“Yeah, sorry . . . You know work’s just really crazy right now.” She flagged their waitress down to order a margarita while the rest of the table ordered another round. “So, what’d I miss?”
Sandra eagerly jumped in. “Well Damien was just telling me about some of his PI cases. It’s just fascinating! All those intimate details you find out in this line of work . . . not to mention the danger!” And there she was batting her eyelashes again.
Damien fumbled with the label on his beer bottle, blushing slightly at her gushing. “Oh, it’s nothing. It pays the bills and it’s better than a desk job. But you know there was this one time that I had to tail a guy . . . “ He started into another story as Sandra perched herself on the edge of her seat and leaned forward on the table to listen intently.
After two margaritas and too many PI stories, Camille had had enough listening to Sandra fawning over Damien. Worse was that Damien seemed to be enjoying the attention, smiling enthusiastically as he provided details of his investigative encounters. After draining the remaining liquid in her second drink and picking at her taco, Camille stood up to call it a night. “Sorry guys, I’m beat. I think I’m just going to go home.” She dug in her wallet to pull out a few bills to pay her tab.
“No Cami, it’s still early!” Nadia begged. “This is fun, I haven’t had this much fun since . . . “ her voice trailed off as she remembered the events last week. She shook her head and perked back up, ignoring her momentary reminiscence. “Anyway, please stay! You look like you could use a break too.”
Camille responded with a weak grin. “Sorry Nadia, I think I’m done. I just want to go lay on the couch in my pajamas.” She turned to Sandra. “It was nice to meet you Sandra.” Glancing between Nadia and Damien, she muttered a quick “Good night guys” before turning around to march out of there as quick as possible.
She had made it about half a block before she heard a deep voice calling her name behind her. “Camille! Camille, wait up!” She turned to find Damien in a slow jog coming up behind her.
“What are you doing Damien?”
“I . . . I, er . . . I just want to make sure you’re not mad at me?” He narrowed his eyes at her with concern, holding his breath while waiting for her response.
Camille let out an exasperated sigh. “No D, of course I’m not mad at you. I’m just really tired and not in the mood to be out tonight.”
He let his breath out in relief, but his gaze never left hers as he continued. “Good. I just . . . I just got the feeling you were avoiding me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” She scoffed.
“Am I being ridiculous though?” He took a step closer, less than a foot away from her now. Camille felt her heart pounding in her chest as she stared mesmerized by his eyes. “Because I’ve never seen you as quiet as you were tonight.” He reached a hand to her shoulder as if he were trying to hold her back from escaping his question. Camille felt the warmth of his palm through her jacket and was overwhelmed with the urge to feel the warmth from the rest of his body.
“Damien, I. . . er . . . “ she stammered her words as she studied his face up close, noticing his rough two-day stubble and how his bottom lip was slightly fuller than his top one. Those lips . . . she scowled at herself for her stray thoughts, forcing herself to focus on a coherent response. “Everything is fine, I swear. I just want to go home tonight. Besides, you seemed to be having a good time with Sandra. You should get back in there.” She took a step back, attempting to increase the distance between them.
Damien stood in place, his face expressionless as he observed her. “I’m not interested in Sandra.” He spoke plainly, waiting for her reaction.
Camille chuckled and raised her eyebrows. “Hmph, could have fooled me. You seemed to enjoy her attention all night.” Shit, I should not have said that, she pondered internally. You sound like a jealous girlfriend. Just shut up and go home before you say something else.
He kept his gaze fixed on her, refusing to let it go. “I would have rather been talking to you, Camille. I came here tonight to see you.” He took a step closer, closing the space between them. He looked down at her with a fierce stare before probing his question again. “Why have you been avoiding me?”
She gasped at his pointed question, at his unrelenting investigation of what she was struggling so hard to keep inside. And she was losing the fight. “Because I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” His face inched closer to hers, his eyes studying her as she felt her resolve crumble.
“Of messing things up with you.” Her stare fixated on his lips again, lips so close she could feel his hot breath against her face. Her breath hitched. “Afraid that once we start down that path, I’ll never be able to stop.”
“Then don’t.” He whispered softly as he closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers.
And so she didn’t.
END