Chapter 8

Xander

Cami’s suggestion shocked me. It was like something out of a sitcom or a romantic comedy.

“This is a stupid idea.” Cami began to stand, but I caught her hand. She turned to me with a smile. “Sorry for all the drama this morning.”

“Drama?” I asked with a laugh. “People have been speculating about us for months, so they don’t even seem surprised. Now, if you’d said you were dating Harley, that might have created some drama since everyone thinks she’s a dominatrix with a harem of young men. For a short time, they thought she was having a baby with Delaney, so I guess people might buy that you’re dating her and allowing her to keep her harem.”

Cami giggled at my description. “A harem? No one thinks she has a whole harem of young men.”

“I guess harem is the wrong word,” I mused. “What do you call a bunch of guys chained up in a sex dungeon?”

“How would I know?” she asked.

“I’ll look it up later,” I told her, making a mental note to do so. “If I pretend to be your boyfriend, you’ll get a lot more attention. I know you already think you get a lot of attention, but it will be worse if people think we’re a couple. You’ll also have to be seen with me more often.”

“Are you saying you’ll play along with this?” she asked.

I was an idiot for even considering agreeing. Playing Cami’s boyfriend would put me closer to temptation. It was hard being around her some days because I had to pretend my flirting was only a game.

“This is a bad idea,” Cami muttered when I took too long to respond.

“It’s not,” I assured her. “What’s in it for me if I agree to be your guy?”

“Pretend to be my guy,” she corrected.

I waved off her words. “Whatever. I still want to know what’s in it for me.”

“I’ll make you waffles,” she offered.

Not going to lie, I almost moaned at the thought. The only times I’d had good waffles since moving to the Bay Area were when I’d been back in Los Angeles and the one time I’d had one of Cami’s waffles. She made phenomenal waffles. I’d had a reheated waffle, so I could only imagine how good one fresh from the waffle maker would taste.

“I’m not sure that’s enough,” I replied thoughtfully. “That’s a vague offer. What if you only make me waffles once? I’m going to need more than that.”

“Waffles twice a week for a year,” was her response.

I pretended to consider her offer. Six months back, I’d have jumped on that offer, but I wanted more than Cami’s waffles. Pretending to be her boyfriend might be just what I needed to convince her I really should be her boyfriend, but I could only pull that off if we spent more time together without our friends around. “I want you to teach me how to make waffles,” I told her. “Not just one lesson. I want you to work with me until I’m as good a cook as you are.”

“You don’t know how to cook anything, do you?” she asked.

“I can make a few things,” I insisted.

“Such as?” she asked.

“Spaghetti,” I replied. “I can also bake those cookies you buy in the refrigerated section.”

She laughed at my response. “The last doesn’t count. If all you have to do is remove it from a package and put it in the oven, it’s not cooking.”

I shrugged. “Since I didn’t burn the cookies, I deserve credit. I don’t know how to cook much. My sister tried to teach me, but I was an asshole as a teen, so I didn’t listen well. Here’s the deal I’m willing to make. I’ll pretend to be your snugglekins if you teach me to make waffles.”

Cami groaned. “Do not ever refer to yourself as my snugglekins again. That sounds terrible.”

“We’ll have to come up with some cutesy pet names. I’ve got it! I’ll call you my Cami-cakes.”

“No,” she replied with a laugh.

“Cami boo bear?” I asked with a grin.

She reached over to smack my arm lightly. “Please, tell me you don’t think those are good pet names.”

“Nah,” I admitted. “I figured you needed a laugh. You seem stressed out. So, do we have a deal?”

“You won’t ask me to wear a thong while I teach you to cook?” She was referring to a suggestion I’d made the first time I’d asked her to teach me to make waffles.

“I can’t make that kind of promise,” I replied with a shake of my head.

“Fine,” she relented. “You can mention the thong, and I’ll try to resist the temptation to smack you with a whisk.”

“I’m not into being smacked with kitchen utensils,” I told her. “I’d be willing to spank you with a kitchen utensil if you beg me. Normally, I prefer to use my hand, but I’ll make an exception if you say pretty please.”

Cami’s lips parted, and her tongue darted out to moisten them. Much like the other times I’d suggested something wildly inappropriate, Cami looked intrigued, but she quickly masked that reaction. “Behave,” she warned.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I asked. “In all seriousness, this is a good deal for both of us. You know I’m not going be a dick. If you think I’m acting like one, tell me.”

She nodded. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

I had to bite back my grin. Cami didn’t know it yet, but I had her right where I wanted her.