When my summer classes finally started, I was too busy with schoolwork to keep track of how often I saw Cameron.

The study schedule was rigorous. We were given our readings and assignments to complete on our own, and attended day-long seminars once a week. The arrangement allowed students to continue working summer jobs while also getting ahead on first year credits.

My goal was to take English 101, Philosophy 101, and Psychology 101 so I could fit in more art classes in my freshman year. That meant I had three full days of seminars every week. It kept me busy.

On the days I didn't have class, I spent my time reading Shakespeare and Descartes, taking copious amounts of notes, and highlighting what seemed like every other sentence in my textbooks. I also tried to fit in as much work on my art as I could. I didn't want to get rusty.

If my brother wondered whether I spent all my time having fun at Cameron's crazy parties, he had nothing to worry about.

In fact, Cameron hadn't thrown any parties since I'd moved in. I'd thought perhaps he was doing it for my benefit. I hadn't been able to ask him though. I'd been too busy studying to track him down. We hadn't seen each other since that afternoon in the pool.

I'd said something that had made him run off. I didn't know what it was. Something to do with his parents. It must have been a sore point. I had made a mental note to not bring the subject up again, but it didn't matter. I'd hardly seen Cameron at all over the last week.

That was why I jumped and squeaked when I heard a knock on my bedroom door. I hadn't expected anyone to interrupt my study time — I looked down at the doodles I'd been sketching instead of working — what was supposed to be my study time, that is. Cameron was the only other person in this place.

My heart was still racing when the bedroom door swung open.

"Shit, did I scare you again?" Cameron gave me an apologetic smile. "I heard you yelp."

"It's okay," I said, still breathless. "I told you, I'm easily startled. I didn't think anyone was home."

I had been sprawled on my bed, lying on my stomach, surrounded by books, papers, and pens. No tablet for me. I was old school that way.

I'd nearly rolled off the bed in my surprise and found myself sitting on the edge, facing Cameron.

"Do you need me for something?" I asked him.

Cameron's eyes narrowed for a brief second as the beginnings of a smirk crossed his face. His lips twitched as he seemed to force it down. My insides fluttered as I wondered what thoughts he might have had to cause that smirk.

"I'm ordering Indian take out," was all he said. "Just wondered if you want some."

I wondered why he'd finally broken his silence and asked me to eat with him after acting like a ghost for days. I decided not to question it, and just be grateful he wasn't ignoring me.

"You're ordering spicy food in this heat?"

"I like to live dangerously."

I laughed. "I'll pass."

"Something else, then? Pizza?"

That was more like it. "I can always go for pizza."

"Hawaiian okay with you?"

I grimaced. "Fruit doesn't belong on pizza."

"A purist, are you? I can do plain cheese and pepperoni."

"I like broccoli and spinach."

Now it was Cameron's time to blanch. "You're one of those people?"

"Let's do half and half."

"I can live with that." Cameron pulled out his phone. He didn't make a call, just tapped a few buttons. "It'll be here in twenty minutes."

"Only twenty? That's fast."

"Time it and you'll see." He shoved his phone back in his pocket. He nodded towards the papers on my bed. "I thought you weren't taking art classes this summer."

He noticed my sketches. Some of the papers were covered with small lilies, a design I'd been drawing since I was old enough to hold a pencil.

I flushed when I realized what else I'd been absentmindedly doodling.

Cameron on stage. Sketches of his eyes shining, his hair flying everywhere as he played his heart out. Sketches of his fingers against the strings of his bass guitar. Sketches of his mouth tilted in that familiar smirk that sent my stomach fluttering.

I quickly gathered the papers and shuffled them, not wanting him to see.

"I was just taking a study break. I felt like my eyeballs were bleeding from all my readings."

He eyed my drawings with interest. "Can I see?"

I pulled out the one sheet of paper that was just lilies, no Cameron. I handed it to him.

He whistled appreciatively. "This is really good."

"I've been working on that design forever. It's gotten more and more intricate throughout the years."

"This is awesome. What else have you got?"

I panicked. "I don't like people looking at my unfinished work." It was a lie, but a reasonable one.

"When you're done, I'd love to see some more of it."

I flushed, imagining the look on Cameron's face when he realized what I'd been working on instead of studying.

"You've seen my other stuff already."

He nodded. "Right, Noah's tattoos. Those are some amazing pieces. But you do other art, right? Paintings and stuff?"

"I like to try a bit of everything but drawing and painting are my first loves."

"When you finish something new, I want to see it."

My heart began pounding. I didn't know why.

"Sure. I'll show you something."

Something that didn't reveal my obsession with him.

"Can I keep this?" Cameron gestured to the paper.

I looked to him surprised. "Why?"

He smirked. "I want to put it on the fridge."

I made a face. "I'm not a little kid."

"Don't I fucking know it," he murmured, eyeing me. He averted his eyes and looked around the room. "You've made yourself at home."

I cringed as I took in the pile of dirty laundry in one corner and empty cans of diet soda stacked on the nightstand. "I'm sorry. I'll clean."

"Don't bother. The maids will do it, if you leave your door open."

"You have housekeepers? I haven't seen any."

"They come in every Wednesday. Keep the place from turning into a filthy pigsty." Cameron's eyes stopped roving over my room and came to settle on mine. "Of course, if you have anything you don't want the maids to see, I suggest you hide it."

I frowned, confused. "Why would I care what the maids see?" All I had were clothes and books, mostly.

That smirk returned. "Are you telling me you don't have any fun toys laying around?"

"Toys?"

The smirk on his face grew wider as he took in my confusion. Understanding dawned on me. My face turned red.

"Oh," was I all said.

"You don't have to worry too much. The maids have seen anything and everything. I doubt anything you would own could shock them at this point."

A small fit of pique rose in my chest. Did he still think I was just an inexperienced kid?

Well, the inexperienced part was right, but…

"How do you know?" I folded my arms over my chest. "Maybe I'm into something really weird and kinky."

Cameron raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly might that weird and kinky something be?"

I wracked my brain. I couldn't come up with anything racier than handcuffs, and maybe a paddle for spanking.

"Don't strain yourself," he said, his eyes twinkling with humor. "I don't expect you to be well versed in the perverted arts like I am."

I suspected he was just making fun of me. "And what weird kinks are you into?" I challenged.

"Ever heard of Daddy Dom?"

I made a face instinctively. "You're really into girls calling you Daddy?"

"Is that judgment I hear in your voice?" he teased.

I fought to smooth out my expression. "Well. I mean. I guess if that's what does it for you…"

Cameron laughed in my face. "I'm just fucking with you. There's nothing weird about my tastes."

"What do you consider not weird?" I had a feeling Cameron Thorne and I had very different standards for weird.

He shrugged casually. "I like sex."

"That's it?"

"I didn't clarify how I like to have sex."

There were several ways I could imagine Cameron having sex. And I was vividly imaging it happening with me.

I swallowed hard as Cameron's eyes flashed, half full of wicked amusement, half full of simmering heat. As if he knew exactly what I was thinking. As if my thoughts were written across my face.

"Maybe little Lily Hart does have perverted thoughts after all?"

"Don't call me that," I said automatically. "It's bad enough when the twins do it."

"You have some sort of complex about that, don't you?" he asked curiously. "You hate it when people remind you how young you are."

"I'm not young," I retorted. "I'm older than you were when your band first hit it big."

"That's different."

"How is it different?"

"I'm not anyone's baby sibling."

"Just because Noah—"

"It's not just Noah," he interrupted. "I still remember when you were in knee high socks and pigtails."

"I never wore pigtails."

"It's a metaphor." Cameron gave me a rueful smile. "It's hard to look at you now and not remember the little girl you used to be."

I looked down at the papers and books on my bed, avoiding his eyes. "Is that really how you see me? Just a little girl? A little sister?"

He went silent.

"No," he said eventually. He didn't elaborate.

I met his eyes. "I've always been treated like a kid. First Noah acting like the protective older brother my whole life, then being stuck at boarding school. I hoped that by coming home I'd finally be able to live the kind of life I want."

Cameron cocked his head at me. "And what kind of life is that?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but paused.

"I… don't know," I said slowly. "All I ever cared about was coming home, going to art school. I didn't think much past that."

"You really have a problem with thinking ahead, don't you?" Cameron teased, referring to my failed plan to show up backstage and surprise Noah.

"I hate feeling like I've missed out on half my life," I blurted out. "I feel like I'm years behind everyone else."

Cameron looked at me thoughtfully. He strode across to room and sat next to me on the bed.

"Listen." His tone was earnest. "I know you're insistent on everyone treating you like an adult, but you're only nineteen. You have the rest of your life ahead of you. Whatever you think you missed out on, you've got time."

"I've never been drunk," I blurted out.

Cameron looked astonished. "Never?"

"The other women and I at my artists' retreat would have wine with supper. That's it. Anyone caught sneaking in alcohol at my boarding school got expelled, so few risked it." I took in a deep breath. "I've never gone to a rock show that wasn't my brother's. I've never gotten high. I've never snuck out of my bedroom window at midnight."

The appalled expression on Cameron's face would have been amusing, if I hadn't been so disgruntled. I gave him a helpless look and gestured wildly with my hands.

"I've missed out on so much. I want to finally experience life, and I don't want it to be under someone else's rules. Is it really that hard to understand?"

"No. I get it. I guess we had the opposite problem." Cameron ran a hand through his bangs, revealing both blue eyes. "As someone who had to grow up too fast, I can tell you there's nothing wrong with taking your time."

"I think my brother would have a word or two to say about you applying the word grown up to yourself."

"I haven't set fire to the place yet. That counts for something, doesn't it?" He flashed me a grin before going serious. "I promise, I don't see you as a little girl."

My heart thumped in my chest as I met Cameron's eyes.

"How do you see me?"

I knew what answer I wanted.

I wondered what answer Cameron was going to give me.

"Lily…" His face was pained.

Cameron's phone buzzed, saving him from having to respond. He gave it a quick glance.

"Pizza's almost here," he murmured. "Let's head down to pick it up."

I followed Cameron silently through the mansion. We didn't speak. Our footsteps echoed against the walls. This place was so empty. It wasn't creepy-empty.

Just lonely-empty.

I was beginning to understand why Cameron threw so many parties.

He met the pizza guy at the front door and pushed a wad of cash into his hand. From the look on the guy's face, the tip must have been over the top.

"Thanks, man!" he said with a wide grin.

"All the delivery guys fight over who gets to bring me my food." Cameron kicked the door closed with one foot, holding the box of pizza in his hands. "That's why it never takes more than twenty minutes for it to get here. They speed the whole way. They all want the big tip."

Cameron threw me a look, close to a leer, and wriggled his eyebrows.

Big tip.

I groaned. "That's awful." But secretly I was pleased. Cameron was back to his usual self, flirting and using innuendo around me.

"Lots more where that came from, Angel."

That pet name made me flush. It was the same thing he'd called me before. It reminded me of that night at the concert. Reminded me of his offer.

I had to stop thinking of that. Had to stop remembering those words on his tongue, and the look in his eyes as he said it.

We were just friends.

That's all we were ever going to be.