After finishing the movie, Cameron went back to the party, saying he had to entertain his guests. He flashed me a wide grin, but something in his eyes, an almost rueful look, told me his heart wasn't into it.

I'd asked him to turn off the third floor speakers, which he did with a few taps on an app. He must run everything in his house through his phone.

With the music silenced, the party goers who had been mingling outside my bedroom left and presumably made their way to other floors.

I didn't have to pull an all-nighter, but I hadn't gone to sleep until hours after midnight and was up early the next day. I was a zombie throughout most of my classes.

When I remembered the surprised look in his eyes when I found him in the movie room by himself, when I remembered his smile after I asked him to sit and watch The Terminator with me…

I couldn't make myself regret it.

As I sat through a seminar, chin in hand and trying not to fall asleep, my mind began to drift. My gaze wandered around the classroom, taking in my fellow students.

Half them looked like their hair hadn't seen a comb in weeks, or had been tossed in a messy bun. They wore paint-spattered jeans and sneakers or hoodies covered in clay dust. A few of the girls wore subtle makeup, but for the most part they were the epitome of the absent-minded artist type.

I supposed I was the same. My own skirt had splotches of paint and my hair was kept in that same messy bun while I was on campus.

The difference between the people at Cameron's parties and the people I sat next to in class everyday was intriguing. His party guests were all movie-star attractive, no doubt the majority of them models, actors, and other peers. Perfect makeup, coiffed hair, and fashionable clothing had been the norm.

One other difference was striking, in that no one in class seemed to know who I was. Or if they did, they didn't care or remark on it. My fellow students and I had been chosen out of thousands who applied to attend this early summer session. We were the best of the best. And to be the best, one had to dedicate their lives to their art. No time for rock star parties.

"Ms. Hart?"

I jolted upright, my hand sliding off my chin. "Yes?"

"Do you know the answer?"

"Um."

I had no idea what the question had been. My mind was clouded with fatigue.

The T.A. cocked his head, an impatient look on his face.

I looked down at my notes. Pure scribbles. Mostly my lily designs, but also some quick character studies that looked suspiciously like Cameron.

"Anyone else?" he asked.

A young woman in a peasant skirt spoke up, answering with ease. The T.A. nodded and moved on.

I stared down at my papers again. This was one of the reasons my brother didn't want me involved in the rock star lifestyle. I was supposed to be concentrating on school, not partying.

But I hadn't spent most of the night partying.

I had spent it watching movies with Cameron.

That thought made shivery butterflies take wing in my stomach, just like a lovestruck fourteen year old girl. It would have been embarrassing if I didn't enjoy the feeling so much.

Whenever I remembered that I'd also pulled off my panties in front of him and handed them over, those butterflies were replaced with an aching between my legs.

One half of me wondered why the hell I'd done that.

The other half scoffed and told me I knew exactly why I'd done that.

And I also knew it could never happen.

I continued going to my classes, doing my readings, and writing essays. I was beginning to get exhausted from all the schoolwork. I looked forward to coming home at the end of every day.

Home. I'd begun to think of Cameron's place as home. It was certainly more of a home than the room in the dorms had been at my boarding school. I'd shared it with a roommate. It hadn't exactly been a private space.

At Cameron's I had an entire floor to myself. No sharing bedrooms, or bathrooms, or common rooms. I could hide away in one of the libraries, snuggle up in a comfy armchair, and do my readings in peace. No risk of any students coming in to distract me.

I'd begun to wonder if my brother might agree to let me live with Cameron even when school started. I knew he liked the idea of my living in college dorms. There was round the clock security. Every building needed its own keycard to get in. I could use one of the campus volunteers to walk me home when it got dark. The entire thing was practically a commune unto itself.

But I'd come to enjoy the freedom I had living with Cameron. Coming and going as I pleased, not needing to account for my whereabouts every time I left the house… Living at Cameron's gave me more freedom than I'd ever thought possible.

And as much as I tried to ignore it, there was one more reason why living at the mansion appealed to me.

Every night before I went to bed, I opened the app Cameron installed on my phone and surveyed the grounds. I made sure all the alarms were on, that every door and window was secured. I made sure there was no way someone could be hiding in the house. There was no one lying in wait.

It was stupid. I should have been over it by now. But I couldn't deny the sense of safety and security I felt living in that mansion.

And Cameron. Even when he wasn't home, it still felt like he was there for me. He'd leave me extra slices of pizza in the fridge with a note to help myself. He'd turned the heat up on the pool one degree because I'd mentioned off-hand that the pool was a bit cooler than I had expected.

Cameron Thorne was turning out to be a much different person than I'd originally thought he was.

One evening when I was at home, studying as usual, I heard voices coming from the first floor. Cameron had been right that sound carried well in his mansion.

I wondered if it was Jen and Noah coming to visit. I headed downstairs, intending to greet them.

I stopped and darted back up a few steps when I found an older man and woman in the foyer. The man had salt and pepper hair and wore a business suit. The woman was a light brunette and wore a fashionable shift dress, high heeled pumps, and a casual yet chic updo.

Cameron was there, standing in front of the two of them. His expression was one of shock.

I wondered whether or not to interrupt. For a moment I wondered if these people were Cameron's lawyers — god knows what kind of trouble he could have gotten into — until the woman pulled him into a careful hug. She pressed a kiss to both his cheeks and stood back.

The man took Cameron's hand and gave it a firm handshake. Cameron returned it robotically.

"What are you guys doing here?" He sounded befuddled. "You're supposed to be in Tokyo or Milan or something."

"Plans changed," the man replied in a firm, but not unfriendly, tone. "I hope we're not interrupting anything?"

"No," Cameron murmured. "Just wasn't expecting you." He seemed to recover from his shock and gave them a bright smile. "It's good to see you. Really good, actually. Are you going to be here for long?"

"For the foreseeable future, yes." The woman gave him a bright smile. I could see traces of Cameron's mad grin in that expression.

These must have been Cameron's parents.

The ones who left him the moment he turned sixteen.

I had imagined them as cold, distant people. Without quite realizing it, I had mentally filed them away into my "bad people" category, reserved for strict, sour teachers and the mean rich girls at boarding school who looked down on me because I'd grown up in foster care.

But these people looked warm and friendly, or at least not unwelcoming. And Cameron seemed happy to see them, if not a little taken aback.

Cameron's mom looked around the place, taking in the details.

"You haven't changed the decor," she noted.

"No. It's fine the way it is. I mean, I like it the way it is," he said, almost stumbling over his words. "You did a really great job with the interior designer in the first place."

I found the exchange odd. Cameron didn't seem like the type to have any opinion on the decor in the first place. Precious rugs and antiques were regularly smashed during his parties, and he never seemed to notice, or care.

"What are you doing here?" Cameron asked. He seemed to realize how tactless that sounded and tried again. "I mean, why didn't you guys call?"

"We tried, but your cell phone number was disconnected," Sharon said.

"Right," Cameron winced. "It got leaked on the net and I had to change it. I left a message with your assistant to tell you."

"I recently had to fire my assistant," Grant explained. "He couldn't take the stress. That could be why the message never made its way to us."

"So we decided to drop in and hoped you would be home." His mother's eyes fell on me, still hiding around the corner on the stairs. "Cameron, you didn't tell me you had company."

I flushed and came out from hiding. I twisted the hem of my shirt in my hands unconsciously.

"Hello," I said with a weak wave.

"Mom, Dad, this is Lily." Cameron made proper introductions, gesturing to me. "Lily, these are my parents, Sharon and Grant."

"Very nice to meet you," I said politely.

The both of them scrutinized me carefully.

"Good to meet you, too," Cameron's father said eventually.

I stepped into the foyer, feeling oddly uncomfortable. I hadn't felt out of place at all since coming to live here. With Cameron's parents in front of me, with their shiny polished shoes and perfectly pressed attire, I couldn't help but scratch at a paint splotch on the sleeve of my shirt.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," I told them. "I just thought my brother might have been coming to visit me."

"Visit... you?" Sharon asked as she gave Cameron a forced smile.

"Lily's staying with me for a while," Cameron said.

"I see," was all his mother said.

Cameron shot me a look, almost pleading.

"It's like a roommate thing," I said, hoping that was the right thing to say. "I'm just staying with Cameron temporarily."

"How did the two of you meet?" Sharon practically jumped on me with the question. "Are you in the music industry, Lily? Oh, but you're so beautiful dear, you must be an actress. You did meet Cameron through work, yes? What exactly do you do?"

She shot the questions at me so fast I didn't have time to respond. I glanced at Cameron, confused and wondering why my choice in career was so important to her.

"She's Noah's sister," Cameron said quickly, as if to reassure her. "She's not a fan."

"Oh!" Cameron's mother let out a small pleased sound, looking relieved. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."

To my complete surprise she took me in her arms and gave me a squeeze. I looked at Cameron quizzically over her shoulder. This was overly friendly. He seemed pleasantly surprised at his mother's gesture.

She held me for a few moments longer than was necessary. Her perfume was flowery, but not overly sweet. She held me gently. Just like a mother would.

My breath caught in a small hitch as she let me go.

Aside from my brother, I couldn't remember the last time I'd been held like that, with such a warm, loving, embrace.

I blinked my eyes, forcing away the faint sting of tears, mad at myself for getting so emotional over something as simple as a hug.

"How nice for Cameron to have someone around who's not—" Grant paused in the middle of the sentence and cleared his throat.

Cameron's expression turned pained, the kind of look one got when being stabbed in the chest.

I wondered what exactly his parents thought about the kind of company Cameron normally kept.

"Cam, honey, why haven't you said a single word about your lady friend?" she scolded him gently.

"It's not like we talk much to begin with," he replied. He seemed to regret the words the moment they left his mouth.

Awkward silence fell over the room. Sharon and Grant shared a look.

"Our schedules are so different, I mean." Cameron hurried to say. "Time zones and traveling and all that." He let out an almost nervous laugh. "I should probably make more of an effort to keep in touch."

"Cam, honey, we were hoping to take you out to dinner sometime this week, if you're free," Sharon said. "We'd like to talk to you about something."

Cameron blinked. "Dinner?"

"We're thinking that new French place, La Côte Basque Winehouse."

"Sure, I'd love to," he said with enthusiasm after recovering from his surprise. "I've heard really good things about the restaurant. I've been planning on going there myself. I love French cuisine."

I almost snorted, thinking he was joking, but held it back. Cameron had sounded genuine. I side-eyed him.

This whole thing was weird. It was if he'd had a personality transplant the moment his parents arrived.

His mother turned her attention to me. "You must come out to dinner with us this week, Lily."

"Oh. Um." I glanced at Cameron.

Cameron shot me a look of disbelief as if he couldn't believe his parents had asked me out to dinner with them. I had to assume this was the first time his parents had ever extended an invitation to one of his friends. He seemed taken aback, but not unhappy.

"I have some exams to study for," I told her.

Sharon frowned, confused. "It's the summer, dear."

"I'm taking summer classes to get extra credits at college."

Cameron's mother beamed. "How wonderful. You must be a very driven young lady."

"I want to be able to focus on my art during the school year."

"An artist!" Sharon looked delighted. "I'd love to hear more. You must have dinner with us," she pressed. "I insist."

"If Cameron doesn't mind," I said hesitantly. "I'm sure you'd like to catch up with your parents alone."

"No, it's fine," Cameron said, a pleased look appearing on his face. "We'd love to have you."

"Any friend of Cameron's is a friend of ours," Sharon said.

And with that, the plan was set in stone.