My first hint that Tuesday was going to suck was when there was no hot water, thanks to a burst main a few streets over. Not showering wasn’t an option, so I froze my ass off for the ten seconds it took me to have the fastest shower in the world.

Things didn’t get much better when I got to work. I sat in on assessments all morning and like always, the client was asked if my being there was okay. This woman said yes, the ten minutes later, started freaking out because I was there. She looked at me like she had no idea who I was and then she totally flipped out and demanded that I leave. I did, but she was going right off the deep end, to the point where she had to be sedated. It scared the fuck out of me. I spent the next half hour pacing the hallway out the front of the interview room, asking myself if I’m cut out for this. I still haven’t figured out the answer.

Every day seems to leave me closer to thinking maybe I don’t want this. I’m only on day five, thanks to my weekend shifts, but the problem is, the longer I spend here, the more trapped I feel. Mom, and now Jim have done so much to help me that I don’t want to disappoint them. Especially now, so close to the wedding.

I smile when I find Linton sitting in my spot.

“Do you mind?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Go for it.”

I sigh and sit down next to him, kicking off my shoes so I can dig my toes into the grass. It feels good to be able to relax and not think, because it’s been one of those days where everything has gone wrong.

“Hard day?” he asks.

“You have no idea,” I grumble. “I should’ve listened to my gut and gone with a career that’s boring and straightforward. Like finance. Or stripping.”

“So, why did you choose psychology?” he asks. “Maybe I’m wrong, but you seemed to hate it. Every time I see you, which granted, has only been a couple of times, but you’re wearing that same pained expression. Is there anything about it that you actually like?” he asks.

“I like messing with people’s minds,” I offer. “Does that count?”

I’m surprised to hear him say that, because I really thought I had everyone fooled. Or maybe I’m just not as good at bullshitting as I think I am? I think some more about his question and then elaborate on my answer.

“I chose it as my major, because I had no idea what I wanted. And I do enjoy it, I’m just not sure if I enjoy it enough to be doing it in twenty year’s time,” I explain.

“So, do something else, then,” he says, looking at me like I’m crazy. “Seriously, I’ve never understood why people settle for something, when there’s so many other options.”

“With a psychology degree and not much else, what exactly are my options?” I tease. “And what if this turns out to be the better option anyway? Who really loves what they do all the time?” I add. “Do you?”

“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,” he replies, smirking at me. “And bullshit you have no options. You have plenty of choices aside from this. The question is, what do you want?”

“That’s the problem,” I frown, thinking hard about it. “I don’t know what I want.”

It’s not like I haven’t considered doing something else, but I’ve invested so much time into this that the thought of doing something different is scary, especially when I don’t know what that is.

“Psychology felt like a safe bet, which is why I went with it.”

“But is safe always the better option?” he asks. “Is it safe to stick with something you’re going to resent in ten years-time, or is it smarter to change paths now?”

“Now, I guess, but I don’t want the last four years to have been wasted.”

“Sounds to me like you’re too scared to be honest with yourself over what you want,” Linton observes.

“Thanks for that assessment, Dr. Freud,” I tease. “Are you going to charge me for this session? And so what if I’m scared? Does it make me any less right?”

Linton sits forward and sighs as he adjusts his glasses.

“Let me try a different approach. Did you learn anything from your degree?” he asks.

“Yes,” I sigh, not sure where this is headed. “Of course I did.”

“Do you think what you learned could be put into other fields, outside of psychology?” he asks patiently.

“I guess so,” I nod.

“Then look at it that way,” he urges me. “Psychology is such a broad area of expertise, which means it can be applied into almost any field,” he says. “Let’s say you change your mind in five years and do something completely different. With a psych degree under you, how do you think you’ll compare to other applicants, when looking for a job?”

“I guess you make a good point,” I admit.

“I usually do,” he says with a wink. “Anyway, I better run. I have a group therapy meeting in a few minutes. They’re always a load of fun,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Okay,” I say. “Thanks for the talk. You actually helped.”

“Can you say that again and sound a little less surprised?” he teases.

My lunch break almost over, I dig through my bag for my phone when I remember a message from James, from earlier. The last conversation we had was this morning, before I went to work.

James: Okay, have fun at work. How’s the job going, by the way?

I’d briefly told him about it, but not enough detail that he could track me down. After the other guy turning up on the doorstep, I didn’t want to take the risk that I had another psycho on my hands. I was pretty sure he wasn’t, but you never really know. Especially with my luck.

Me: It’s great. Most of the time. Except when I hate it. I’m joking…kind of. At least I’ve made a friend, who is coincidentally into the furry scene for real.

James: I’m not shocked. It’s way more common than most people realize. What kind of things do you deal with there?

Me: Mainly things like drug induced psychosis, substance abuse, addiction, etc.

James: I used to have an addiction to eating soap.

Me: Really?

Yeah: but I’ve been clean for about a year.

I groan and choke back my laughter.

Me: That was a really bad joke.

James: Oh, I’ve got worse. Trust me.

The end of the day cannot come soon enough and as the second that clock hits five, I'm out of there. As I drive home, Linton's words keep rolling around in my head. He's right. If I'm ever going to decide to do something else, it should be now and not in ten years’ time. It’s actually kind of exciting, thinking about my future in a new light. I really can do anything.

Now, all I need to do is figure out what I want.

I pull into the driveway, behind Cameron’s car. I actually contemplate reversing back out and going over to Sasha’s, just to avoid being alone with him. Having him stay here is torture, because he seems to be going out of his way to get in my way. He’s just as irritating, only now I get to see more of him. I quietly let myself inside, careful not to make a sound. Just when I think I’m getting away with it, I hear my name.

“Darcy?”

I wince and then backtrack the few steps, until I can see Cameron sitting at the kitchen table. He grins at me, the sunlight filtering through the window, hitting his face at such an angle that he looks even sexier than usual. I snap out of my daydream when I realize I’ve been staring at him.

“Yes?” I prompt, raising my eyebrows, as if I’ve been waiting for him to speak.

“I’m having a few friends over for poker tonight if you want to join us?” he asks. His eyes twinkle. “I’m sure Lewis would appreciate not being the first out, for once.”

“On a Tuesday?” I query.

He nods. “Two of the guys work weekends and I’m off anyway. It won’t run late,” he adds.

“Are you sure you want to invite me?” I smirk at him. “Because you’ve got no idea what you’re unleashing. I’m a shark when it comes to poker.”

“I bet you are,” he chuckles. “Anyway, the offer is there. Twenty dollars will buy you in, winner takes all.”

“Great, I could use the extra cash,” I say. “You may as well hand over your twenty to me now. I’ll collect the rest at the door. Hell, why stop at twenty? Too scared to put in more?”

“Confidence is good,” he says, sliding his chair back. “But don’t get too cocky. You haven’t seen how dirty I can play. Besides, if you’re that desperate for money, I can think of a few—”

“Do not even think about finishing that sentence.” I warn him.

I plonk down into the chair opposite him. He smiles at me.

“You look like you’ve had a long day,” he comments.

“I feel like it.”

“If you want to talk about it…” He chuckles when I raise my eyebrows. “No pressure or ulterior motives and no crude comments. I’m offering brotherly advice as your future stepbrother,” he says.

He sounds genuine enough, but Cameron has never been this…well, nice to me. Why would he start now, without some underhanded reason? But the idea of some unbiased advice from someone who I know won’t bullshit me is too alluring to pass up.

“I hate my job,” I confess.

He smiles. “This is the one my father got for you?”

I nod. He chuckles. “Man, if you leave, my father’s gonna kill you.”

“He’d really be that upset?” I whisper, a sinking feeling forming in my stomach.

Cameron laughs. “No. I’m messing with you. Honestly? When it comes to shit like that, he’ll support you every step of the way, whatever you want to do. I changed my major two years into college.” I raise my eyebrows and he nods. “I started off wanting to be like him and study law, but I wasn’t feeling it. If he was okay with his eldest son not following in his footsteps, then I think you’ll be okay.”

I nod. He has no idea how relieved I am to hear him say that.

“So…what is it that you actually do?” I ask him. “Aside from not much? And I don’t mean that in an offensive way,” I quickly add.

He chuckles. “No, I can understand why you’d think I don’t do anything. I’m in property development. I’ll be the CEO of the LA office for one of the biggest commercial property development firms in the country by next week. If they get their shit together.”

I stare at him, shocked. At first I think he must be bullshitting, but there’s no smirk or sign that he’s lying.

“Wow, really?” I ask. “That’s great. I had no idea you were so…” My voice trails off, because I don’t want to offend him.

“Successful?” he offers. “I’ll also accept dedicated, smart, talented or passionate.”

“Passionate?” I roll my eyes.

“Hey, I’m passionate about many things,” he grins.

“I bet you are,” I say, getting to my feet. “I should get changed.”

“And maybe squeeze in some last-minute poker practice,” he suggests, his eyes shining.

“Don’t need it,” I say, winking at him. “The only thing I need to figure out is how far I ride you into the ground.”

I walk upstairs and down the hallway to my room, closing the door with my foot. I call Sash, because although she’s not much for poker, I know she’ll kill me if there were a group of single guys in the house and I didn’t invite her.

“Tonight? Sure. What time?”

“Come over whenever,” I say. “I’m just getting in the shower. Mom and Jim are out at some charity event tonight, so I’ll probably just order a pizza if you want in.”

“Okay cool. See you soon.”

I text Katie too, even though I know she’ll be busy. She's always busy. I know she's got a lot on between work and her boyfriend, but I feel like we never see each other anymore. 

We went from being friends who used to hang out at least a few times a week, to being lucky if we see each other once a month. I used to be closer to Katie that I was to Sasha, but lately? It’s other way around. 

Her text comes through and sure enough, she can't make it. 

Me: Can we catch up soon? I feel like I never see you.

Katie: I know, I'm sorry. I promise we’ll catch up soon.

I have a quick shower and as I wrap myself in a towel, my phone flashes. I pick it up and smile. Another message from James.

James: Thank God it’s Friday, huh? Big plans for the weekend?

Me: Hopefully whipping my soon-to-be-stepbrother’s ass.

James: Sounds kinky. And kind of creepy. If it were a stepsister, though, that would be hot.

Me: Of course it would be. And we’d have pillow fights and practice our kissing.

James: I feel like you’re messing with me.

Me: Maybe a little ;)

James: So you and the older stepbrother don’t get along?

Darcy: He’s okay, he’s just so cocky and full of himself. The whole world revolves around him.

Me: Ah. One of those people.

Darcy: Yep. I’m looking forward to showing him up.

James: He sounds like hard work.

Me: A total pain in the ass.

James: And about that shower…

Me: What shower?

James: Cough* pics *cough.

Me: In your dreams.

James: Every night. Only I have no idea what you look like, so I have to picture Betty White

Me: Betty White?

James: Yeah, from The Golden Girls?

Me: Gross, she’d be in her nineties by now.

James: Obviously I don’t picture her NOW… I mean her Golden Girl’s era. She was so much hotter at seventy. Anyway, it does the job, until I get some better material.

Me: You pretty much just admitted that if I send you a pic, you’ll jack off to it…

James: If that’s the worst thing you took from that entire conversation, then I’m worried about you.

Laughing, I glance at the time.

Shit.

If I don’t hurry up, Sash is going to be downstairs, alone with Cameron and his friends, which would be disastrous. It’s not that I don’t trust her…actually, yes, that’s exactly it. I don’t trust her. Nothing comes between Sasha and single men, so I don’t doubt for a second that she’d do whatever she had to do in order to break the ice, no matter how embarrassing or shameful it might be.

I quickly change into a pair of jeans and choose a fitted purple shirt with a very low cut front to pair with it. I run a brush through my dark hair, leaving it down, then I throw on some mascara and lip gloss. I’m not sure why I’m so intent on looking my best, or why I have gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that I only get when I like someone, but I choose not to think too hard about it. If I don’t read into it, then it’s not a problem.

I give myself one more look over in the mirror, then I bound down the stairs, two at a time. Cameron looks up from the table in the dining room, where he sits with two other guys.

Wow. A real, genuine smile from Cameron Hunter.

It’s just as quickly, it’s replaced with a smirk, but it was there all the same. Our chat today was more than I’d spoken to him previously, combined. It was nice to see another side to him.

“I hope it’s okay that I invited a friend?” I ask.

“Only if it’s the hot one.”

Mack?

I groan as he saunters over from the fridge with a can of soda. He sits at the table and grins at me. If I’d known he was going to be here, I would have warned Sash. She’s going to kill me.

“Aren’t you too young to gamble?” I ask.

He winks at me. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” Then he pauses. “Actually, that goes for many things that society may frown upon me doing with you. Or to you.” He pauses again. “Or your hot friend.” He grins at me and raises his eyebrows. “Or both of you...”

Cameron chuckles. “Keep your pants on Don Juan, or you’ll have to leave the table.”

“Don who?” Mack mutters, shaking his head.

Sasha texts me that she’s here, and then five seconds later, the doorbell rings. I let her in, leading her back into the dining room, where I introduce her to the guys. Well, to Cameron at least. She’s already met Mack, and Cameron’s friends I haven’t even met.

“That’s Sam, Dillon, and on the end is Lewis,” Cameron says, pointing to each of his friends.

I smile at them, then I glance at Sash, who is gazing at all three of them, a dreamy smile on her face. I giggle, because it’s a wonder she hasn’t thrown herself onto the table to dance for them.

“We’re just waiting on Jacob,” Cam says. “He shouldn’t be too much—”

The doorbell cuts him off.

“There we are,” Cameron nods, standing up.

He disappears out of the room to let his friend in. I smile brightly at his friends, and Sasha.

“Anyone for a drink?” I ask.

“I’ll help you,” Sash offers, nearly falling over her chair to follow me into the kitchen.

I laugh as she collapses over the counter and sighs.

“I don’t even know which one to go for,” she says, in a defeated voice. “Can I be honest and admit I think Cam is the sexiest?”

“Really?” I say, surprised. I sneak a look through the crack in the door at the group. Cameron isn’t back yet, but I’ve got a good view of his friends and they’re all pretty darn nice to look at. “What about Lewis?”

“Oh, he’s hot. They’re all hot, but Cameron is just…” She sighs. “No words.”

“I think the same thing every day,” I laugh. “But not in the same way you are.”

“You really don’t like him, do you?” she asks. She shakes her head, like she can’t comprehend the idea of anyone not liking him.

“It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s more that he likes himself too much,” I try to explain. “He’s such a tool. He’s arrogant. Cocky…I could go on for hours, pointing out all the things about him that irritate me,” I add.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

I gasp as Cameron strolls into the kitchen. He winks at me, then grabs two beers out of the fridge. I glare at Sasha, who is shamelessly laughing at the fact he just heard me say that.

“I’ll be out there, studying myself in the mirror,” he says on his way back out. “You know, because I love myself so much.”

Sasha’s eyes widen as they meet mine.

“Don't even say it,” I groan.

I grab the drinks and stalk back out, but I stop in my tracks when I see the latest addition at the table. He looks up and laughs when he sees me. Cameron looks back-and-forth between his friend and me, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Sasha nearly walks into me from behind.

“What’s wrong—oh god,” she says, giggling when she spots Cameron’s friend. “This just keeps getting better.”

“I'm missing something, aren’t I?” Cam asks, still looking from his friend, back to me. “Who wants to fill me in?”

His friend smirks at me and raises his eyebrows.

“Go ahead,” I say with a laugh. “You might as well tell him.”

“Remember I told you about the chick that I thought was going to get herself off, right there in front of me, but then she started dancing, Gangnam style?” Cam’s friend asks.

Cameron chuckles. “Yeah, why—”

He stops and turns to me, his eyebrow raised, an amused look in his eyes.

“That was you,” he realizes.

I shrug. “Yep.”

“Wow. I’m kind of impressed and oddly turned on right now,” he jokes. “Gangnam Style?” he adds with a laugh. “I’ve got to give it to you, Jacob here is pretty hard to fool. He also considers himself a bit of a ladies’ man,” Cam adds, which earns him a whack across the arm from Jacob.

““Gangnam style is just the beginning,” I say, winking at him. “You should see me when I'm in the mood Phil Collins.”

Sasha and I both sit down. In my attempt not to sit next to Cameron, I find myself directly opposite him, which is almost worse. I focus on my cards, determined to show him how you really play poker, but my excitement for the game quickly fades, because I’m having shit luck today. Every fucking hand I’m given is useless. Cameron winks at me as he deals. I narrow my eyes at him. If these aren’t good…

I sigh and immediately toss them into the center of the table.

Total shit.

“Bad night?” Cam chuckles.

“No, I’m just saving myself for later,” I reply. “Getting all the shit hands out of the way now.”

“Really?” his eyes twinkle. “I’m glad I’ll be around to see that, but I was referring to the game.”

“Trust me, there are no bad hands when I’m playing with myself,” I reply sweetly.

Everyone laughs, but Cameron doesn’t take his eyes off mine.

“What about when other people are playing with you?” he asks.

I hide a smile, ignoring his question when my phone beeps, with another text from James. I’m glad for the distraction away from Cameron, because I feel like one of us is five seconds away from doing something stupid and I’m not convinced it won’t be me.

James: How’s the floor wiping going?

Me: Don’t even ask.

James: Let me help. What are you holding?

Me: It’s my first decent hand. A pair of kings.

James: Nice. If you win you can take me out for dinner

Me: Who said we were playing for money?

James: Who would play without it?

Me: Why not? It’s so much fun

James: I can think of much better ways to have fun….

Even with good hands, and help from James, I keep losing. I’m starting to think he’s is bad luck, because he’s definitely not helping. I sigh and sit back when Sasha, of all people, knocks me out of the game. She gives me an apologetic grin, which reads sorry, not sorry.

Me: I blame you for this.

James: I can’t believe you’re blaming me because you’re shit at poker.

Me: Hey, I could kick your ass.

James: I bet you said the same thing to your asshole stepbrother?

I frown and shove my phone back into my pocket.

“So, the rules are, the first person has to perform an act for the current stakes leader,” Cameron informs me. I glance at his big stack and shake my head.

“And how many games has this rule being implemented in?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It’s not important when it became a rule, just that it is one.”

“Then why wasn’t it a rule last week when you were the first one out?” Lewis asks. “Or the time before that when you were also out first? And, ironically, the time before that, when, wait for it, you were out first again,” Lewis chuckles and looks around the table. “Is anyone else sensing a pattern here?”

“Interesting,” I muse. I grin at Cameron, who shakes his head and laughs. “The truth is finally coming out,” I continue, turning to Lewis. “When Cameron here, invited me to play tonight, he insinuated that you would be happy not to be the first out for once.”

“Oh, really,” Lewis raises his eyebrows at his friend. “So that’s how you score the ladies, by putting me, your wheelchair bound friend, down?” He shakes his head. “Is there no limit to how far you’ll go?”

“Oh, shut up. There was no scoring going on,” Cameron mutters.

I laugh, loving the fact that he’s embarrassed.

“So, you don't find Darcy attractive, then?” Lewis asks.

He narrows his eyes at Cameron.

“I didn't say that,” Cameron replies, while looking at me.

My heart races.

“If you’re not going to say it, then I will,” Mack pipes up. He turns to me. “Darcy, my brother thinks you’re hot, and I’m pretty sure he wants to fuck you.” He pauses thoughtfully for a moment. “Or should that be our brother? Because after next week, he’ll technically be your—”

“Enough,” Cam cuts in., looking like he’s fighting a battle between looking annoyed and amused. He glares at Mack, who shrugs innocently.

“Well said, Mack,” Lewis chuckles. “This wedding will definitely make things interesting if you two hook up.” He narrows his eyes at Cam and then at me. “If you haven’t hooked up already…”

“You’re quite the troublemaker,” I say to Lewis through narrowed eyes. “And here I was thinking you were the quiet and sensible one.”

“Quiet?” Cam shakes his head. “You obviously don’t know him very well. Just don’t get him started on his impersonations.”

“Why not? I do a pretty good x rated impression of your daddy getting his dick sucked,” Lewis retorts, raising his eyebrows at Cam. “Wanna see?”

“Have you been hiding in his closet again?” Cameron asks with a grin. “And no. I don’t particularly want to see that.”

Mack shudders. “Really, Lewis? Underage kid sitting right here.”

Lewis laughs and then starts moaning in a high-pitched voice.

“Oh God. Please stop,” I say with a snort, covering my face with my hands. “I’ll pay you to stop.”

“That’s what she said,” Lewis cracks. “Oh yeah, right there, that’s the spot—"

“Lewis,” Cam begins, looking past him uneasily.

“Oh God, Darcy’s Mom, you know just how to satisfy—"

“Lewis, is it?”

Lewis’ eyes widen while the rest of us struggle not to laugh. Mom stands in the doorway, frowning at Lewis, who looks too horrified to turn around. He curses to himself, and then slowly turns around, a fake smile plastered on his lips.

“Hi. Darcy’s Mom?” he guesses. She nods. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to what?” she asks.

I groan, feeling sorry for Lewis, because Mom is totally messing with him right now. I know she’s messing with the poor guy.

“You didn’t mean to offend me, or mock one of the most respected judges in the country?” Mom clarifies.

Lewis lowers his gaze and mumbles an apology. Mom nods, satisfied. I see the glint in her eyes and I know there’s more coming.

“Oh, and Lewis?”

He looks up.

She smirks at him. “His voice goes so much higher than that.”

She walks off and Lewis leans back in his chair. He breathes out.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “I’m gonna quit while I’m behind, I think. Thanks for the game, but I should be getting home.”

Cameron's other friends stand up too, along with Sasha.

“I think I better get going too,” Sasha says. “Work tomorrow.”

I roll my eyes, because I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with all the guys leaving.

She flashes a wide smile at Lewis. “Hey, you couldn’t by chance give me a ride home, could you?” she asks him. “I didn't bring my car and the wait for a cab is nearly an hour.”

I snort. “Really?” I say. “Because I could’ve sworn that white piece of shit out the front of the house is yours.”

She gives me a cold stare, while I laugh at her.

“When I said I didn’t drive, I meant it broke down when I got here,” she snaps, clenching her teeth together.

Lewis shrugs, unfazed. “Sure. I'd love to give you a ride home.” He wheels back from the table. “You wanna sit in my lap, or…” He chuckles at her expression. “I’m kidding.”

“Thanks,” she smiles sweetly at him, but then narrows her eyes at me, before following him out. Cameron closes the door and shakes his head.

“Told you it can get interesting,” Cameron says, winking at me. “Though I’m not sure your friend and Lewis are a good idea.”

“No, but I’m not going to stop them,” I say. “I can’t even get my own love life right so I’m not really in the position to be telling other people what to do.” He raises his eyebrows at my overshare. I look around, desperate for a change of subject.

“I’ll help you tidy up,” I say.

I walk back down to the dining room, grabbing a bag and then I start cleaning up. I glance at him every few minutes, still trying to work out why I feel so nervous around him. I can handle myself in front of anyone—except Cameron, and I’m not sure why.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks.

I nod. “A lot.” More than I should have. “Thanks for asking me.”

“You’re welcome. You put up a decent fight, but you were never going to beat me.”

“From what I heard, everyone else usually does,” I tease. I shake my head. “I swear I’m usually better than I was tonight. Near the end, I had some really good hands, so I’m not sure how you kept beating me,” I add with a frown.

“Maybe you were distracted by our obvious chemistry?” he suggests.

I laugh. “I’m pretty sure any chemistry you’re feeling is just how much you irritate me.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, that win meant nothing,” he says with a shrug. “Money is nice and all, but I was really hoping for something else,” he murmurs. He sticks his hand in his pocket and pulls out his wallet. “Will a hundred get me some Gangnam Style?

Well, if he’s willing to pay for it…

I saunter over to him, until I’m close enough to touch him, then I look into his eyes and bite my lip. He stares down at me, his expression intense.

“Make it two hundred and you’ve got yourself a deal,” I say, lifting my eyebrows.

“You’re serious?” He murmurs after a moment.

I nod. “Deadly.”

He rummages through his wallet, then hands over two hundred dollars.

“There.”

I nod. “Okay, give me a moment to prepare.”

I pull out my phone, quickly find what I’m looking for then I pick up the tv remote and turn it on. He looks at me, confused, when I hit play.

“Night, Cam.”

I start walking out of the room just as the video clip begins to play on the television.

“Two hundred dollars and you’re giving me the video clip?” he growls.

I grin at him. “I told you. I’m a shark when it comes to gambling.”

I give him a wink just before disappearing around the corner.