Cameron was just one text away. All she did was send him, “Dinner?” and he met her at the dining hall within minutes. That was kind of nice. That was one thing she couldn’t get at home.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking for when she texted him. A friend? A way to release this weird pressure that kept building and building in her chest? Just an hour ago, she was thinking of all the different ways she could jump his bones. But now, with her mind a little less on something sexy and a little more on something murderous….

Cam looked far better than she did, considering the morning they had. Color in his cheeks, even a pep in his step. She tried to sort herself out when she waited for him, but she didn’t get very far. She was still stuck somewhere in between angry, aching, and anxious.

“Well, don’t you look nice,” Cameron said with his charming smile, referring to her black dress for her presentation. She found herself mirroring his smile, even despite her mood. “Craving for anything?” She tried not to blush when his eyes took their time looking her up and down.

“Something cold,” she answered, attempting not to sound too short. “I’m fucking pissed at your stupid roomie.” The previously-cheery expression he wore faltered. “And I might fail a class, which I’ve never done or even come close to, and I’ll lose the only scholarship I have, and I’ll disappoint my family, and have no hope of ever getting out of--”

“How about a deep breath?” Cam interrupted. Cat huffed at him. “Food first, then rant?” Well. That she could do. She was rather ravenous. Maybe food would get her stomach out of its knots. “Something cold…. The chicken Ceasar salads aren’t bad. One might even dare to call them...decent.” She couldn’t help it. The way he put a hand over his mouth to feign drama, the way he gasped; she giggled. Maybe he was exactly what she needed right now.

“Fine. No ranting until food.” And she kept her promise. She obeyed the etiquette of smalltalk while they waited in line for the fridge section of the market, asked how his day went, and didn’t even get irritated when he said he slept the whole day away.

“Just came back and crashed. Only woke up a few hours ago.”

“Must be nice.” She grabbed them both biodegradable forks, and he reached for a couple cups for drinks. “Just water, please. Thank you.”

“Could use more water, myself,” he muttered as he walked to the fountain to fill their cups. Cat spotted a semi-clean, plastic table by some fake plants in the middle of the food court, and set their tray down to claim it. Cameron came back with their waters, seemingly steeled for battle.

“Alright, lay it on me. I’m ready.” He grabbed his fork like he was holding some sort of weapon, and stared at her with such a serious expression, she couldn’t help but feel her anger sizzle away with the small giggle she allowed him to have.

“I guess when you put it that way, it might not be that big of a thing. At least...sitting with food and stuff, taking a breath…. I don’t think I’m going to jail for murder.” He remained silent, still looking up at her periodically as he peeled away the plastic seal to his salad bowl. And so, with his undivided attention, she caught him up since her rant yesterday afternoon, which really just...consisted of Peter being a dick during class, and then the teacher being absolutely unreasonable and kicking them out. She should still be in there, now, sitting and staring at the clock while two other victims pretended to take certain sides on an issue everyone already formed an opinion about….

“So it just kind of escalated,” Cameron summarized when she finished. Cat pursed her lips, then finally peeled back the plastic seal on her salad bowl.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have blown up in class like that. I’ve never been kicked out of anything…. I can’t afford to fail a class, or to even get less than a B. But she said she was going to fail me….”

“Nothing an apology can’t fix,” he said with a full mouth.

“Hm?”

He swallowed. “Just say you’re sorry. Go to her office hours, apologize for the outburst, promise it won’t happen again. Easy.” He shrugged at her, and she tried to let his words sink in. It sounded simple that way. But the anger, the way Professor Harlem screamed….

“Is it?”

“I’ve done it enough times. It is. At least if you’ve had practice.”

“How did you even get into this school?” It was a bit of a joke, though he didn’t find it as funny as she thought he might.

“Sports, obviously.”

“Swimming?” He didn’t have any tan lines at the party. And he had that certain physique that led itself to those delicious v-looking muscles that pointed straight down to the….

“Yeah, how’d you know?” When Cameron looked at her, she dropped her gaze and shrugged, pretending to be absolutely focused on finding the right chunks of salad to stab with her weird fork. “You been checkin’ me out, Cat?” His tone said he was joking, but when she looked up at him through her lashes, his smile had a mischievous edge to it. It damn near stopped her heart. Well, she did intend to hang out with Cameron more, in one way or another. And she was already feeling better.

She feigned a bored sigh. “I did. But I mean, kind of been there, done that with you.” She didn’t look up at him again, but she could see out of the corner of her eye that he dropped his jaw, a little offended.

“‘Been there, done that’?” he echoed, still with a playful edge to his voice. “What, last night?”

“Yeah, I mean….” She pursed her lips together, then finally met his gaze, giving him a look of pity. “It was fine and all. But the dream I had of us after was hotter than what we had.” Maybe she was being a little mean. But by the way he scooted just a little closer to her, she sort of doubted he minded a little teasing.

“Dream?” he prodded, suppressing a grin. “What happened in your dream?” His salad remained abandoned while she picked at hers with her tongs.

“Well, I can’t be sure if it was you in my dream or not,” Cat started with a shrug. “But we were--or rather, me and this Dream Guy….” She regarded him, first his hair, then the rest of him, her gaze slow, borderline objectifying. “Blond, swimmer’s body…. Anyway, we tried to go upstairs, but we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I ended up just straddling him on the steps until we couldn’t take it anymore.” Crunch. She stabbed a chunk of lettuce with her fork. “The way he touched me, oh….” She moaned for effect, but the intrusive thoughts forced themselves to the forefront of her mind, and for the briefest of moments, she could feel his hands on her thighs, pulling her close against him, her knees digging into the wooden lip of the landing. She returned to the food court in a blink of an eye, flushing ever-so-slightly. God, she had goosebumps. “But then I woke up.” She let her words hang there for a moment, watching him out of the perrefrial of her sight. “But anyway, sorry for getting off-topic. How can I apologize to the professor when her office hours are during the time I work?”

“Huh?” Poor guy had whiplash. But he recovered fast enough. “Oh, um…. You could email her.” Suddenly, Cam remembered he had a fork to eat his salad with. “Maybe I could help you draft it.” She smiled, catching her bottom lip in her teeth.

“Would you?” She tried to confirm his intentions with a knowing smile, which he returned, winking.

“Of course.”

“Great. Could you come over tomorrow, maybe at four?” It was partially to keep him guessing, to give him a little taste of the feeling he’d plagued her with all day. Partially pragmatic.

Cameron looked confused again.

“I’ve got to head to bed after this. I’ve got work at five.”

“Oh, that sucks. Working at five on a weekend….” Yes, yes it did. Especially now.

“Yeah, every Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. Five-thirty to two-thirty.”

Cameron frowned. “You don’t get a single day off, do you?” Well. She hadn’t realized that until he said it like that. Now she frowned, too, with the edge of her excitement dwindling away.

“I guess not. But I worked like this ever since I was sixteen, so I guess I’m used to it. And this past year I took as a gap year to work two jobs to pay for this, so….” When she said this, Cam stared at her with raised brows, nodding as if he saw something impressive.

“You look like the type that can handle anything.” He sounded so genuine when he said it, too. Cat smiled.

“Haven’t found something I haven’t been able to handle yet.” And, just to keep it fun, she added a wink.

Work was unbearable. Catherine couldn’t sleep last night. Between bouts of excitement for spending the evening with Cam, anger that then rooted from remembering who Cam’s roommate was, and terror of remembering why this all came about in the first place, trying to sleep eventually became more stressful than the idea of waking up at such an awful hour in the morning on a Saturday. And work always ended up being a competition of who was more tired.

The afternoon promised to be better. So, after a quick shower, changing into a light, floral dress, Cat had her bag on one shoulder, and her in-progress braid on the other. Cam was going to meet her in the library in an hour; apparently he had lunch with a friend that ran late, and she did actually need to apologize to her professor, so she figured the library was the best place to start. Then, later, they could move somewhere else, if the mood called for it. Which she hoped it did.

Cat sat on the sixth floor of the library, in the computer lab section, with her communications book flipped to a chapter they wouldn’t address until much later in the semester: interpersonal conflict resolution.

No one got to a nearly perfect report card for every year of school life without a little bit of kissing ass. So here she was, reading ahead, to try and obviously sprinkle in some of the concepts from the chapter into her email apology.

Cameron was late in meeting up with her, but she didn’t say anything when he arrived. She’d finished her draft, just needed his expert opinion.

“Hey!” he called quietly. The library was mostly empty right now, especially this floor, which was why she chose it in the first place. The rows and rows of computers were off and unoccupied, giving her plenty of peace and quiet to work--and giving them a little privacy if things went the way she wanted.

“Hey yourself.” Cat patted the desk chair beside her, and he sunk into it. Again, he was so much more rested than she was.

“Cute dress. You look good in floral.” Though as he said it, he seemed more to be looking at the hemline that stopped above mid-thigh while she sat down. Her cheeks burned, her spare hand gently stroking the bottom of her braid.

“Thank you.” She scooted over a little bit, and motioned for him to bring his chair over to her workstation. “I started a draft on my letter. Could you look it over?” He waited until she looked back to him, rather than stare at the screen, to move closer, butting the sides of the wooden chairs beside each other. This was a much better distance. Or lack, thereof, considering their legs were close to touching, now.

He was quiet when he read, frowning, concentrating. On more than one occasion, she smoothed out her dress in her lap while she waited. He was a slow reader. Granted, it was a bit lengthy of an apology. Two pages, so she had enough space to cite the book.

Cam eventually leaned back with his lips pursed.

Catherine frowned. “What?”

“Would you mind if I edited it a little?”

“Oh, go ahead! Please, if you see any mistakes. I don’t want to send it with any typos.” Though she was fairly certain that she had gotten all of them when she looked it over. Cam leaned over the keyboard and mouse, then scrolled to the top of the file, and began to highlight, delete, and type.

Though she intended for them to be working this close, physically, he was far too focused as he typed away; he didn’t seem to notice that she let his arm brush against her chest while he worked. And then, after about five minutes, she gave up attempting to get his attention and actually looked at what he wrote.

A little. Sure. Cat stared at the virtually unrecognizable letter. From two pages to two paragraphs. No citations.

“Um,” she sounded, one hand tapping the book in front of her. “I was trying to….”

“You were writing an assignment, not showing regret,” he answered for her. He said it so candidly. Cat raised her brows. “You are sorry, right?”

“Of course! I’ve never been kicked out--”

“I don’t mean if you’re sorry for you, I mean if you’re sorry for the professor.”

For a brief moment, Cat stared at him, shocked, borderline offended. Whose side was he on? “Obviously I feel bad for interrupting the professor and for not following instructions!”

“It just wasn’t coming across. It sounded more like you were trying to kiss ass.” He shrugged, diffusing her that simply. Her shoulders slouched.

“Did you keep anything I said?”

“Oh, of course I did. I kept the first and last sentence of every paragraph, and just combined them in some cases. Look.” He gestured to the screen for her to look. She was skeptical, but he was true to his word. It still felt a bit light to her, though.

“How will she know I mean what I said?” Her fingers picked at themselves in her lap as she looked for his answers. He was gentle, and turned in his chair to face her completely and place a warm hand on her knee.

“Because you do. Adding to the word count isn’t going to change that.” Cat could only blink at him. This was Man-Slut Cam? The one who couldn’t handle anything serious at all, slept with anyone he could? Hannah didn’t really give him justice. Then again, wise people could still have inextinguishable sex drives.

With a small smile, Cat placed a hand on his to give it a small squeeze--and to, subtly, bring it up her thigh an inch or two.

“That’s some fortune cookie gold, there.” Saying this prompted a laugh from him. “I guess I should print it.”

“Did you want to still hang out?” He still hadn’t moved his hand away, and she didn’t make any attempts to move it for him. He looked at her, studying her expression. When his eyes drifted to her lips, she was thrown into her memory of the other night, the intense make-out session that put her on such an edge. Her cheeks burned.

“I was hoping to. Hannah’s still house-sitting.” His eyes snapped to hers. She wasn’t being very subtle, she realized when his expression shifted to something a little more mischievous.

“Sure,” Cam said with a smile, “sounds like fun. Are you happy with your letter?” She hadn’t decided yet. Her smile faltered.

“I’m going to read it a couple times again, just to see. Should I print it or email it?”

“Printing and presenting it in person seems more sincere,” he replied without missing a beat. She nodded, then leaned closer to the computer to scan the letter a couple more times. His hand remained right on her thigh, and she brushed it gently with her thumb to reassure him that it was okay with her. She did notice, however, that he inched a little further in on her leg, and now his fingers brushed against the hemline of her dress. Smiling to herself, Catherine took her hand away to move the mouse cursor over to the “Print” button, and Cam took the opportunity to lean a little closer. After she selected which printer to go to, she hesitated at fully returning to her seat, and twisted a little to look at him. He used his free hand to play with the ends of her braid on her back.

“You smell really good. Coconut?” She nodded, and leaned back to let him drape his arm over her shoulder. Not the smoothest of moves, but it was better than pretending to yawn to get his arm around her.

“I put coconut oil in my hair before I wash it.”

“You smell like a summer vacation--like a pina colada or something.” Or something. Cat offered him a giggle, snuggling a little closer.

“A little less alcohol content at the moment.”

“Just as intoxicating.” She gave him a full laugh at that. If he didn’t say something so stupid just now, she might have let him lean in to kiss her. But when he leaned in, she decided he deserved a little more teasing, and stood up right at that moment. Cam seemed confused, a little worried when she stood up so quickly, but she reassured him by leaning down, inches from his face.

“Just going to go pay for my letter. Then we can head back to my place.” The tension grew, but before Cameron had any chance to help alleviate it, she swept her bag up from the floor and headed toward the printer tables.

Cat smiled to herself as she dug in her bag for her wallet. This was going well. Cam was an apology expert and he was into her advances. The anticipation of some sort of relief from this constant growing heat in her gut just intensified as she approached the payment kiosk. She clicked for the name of her document, then pulled out a dime and a nickel for the coin slot.

For a brief moment, she let herself get distracted and considered pressing the option to buy a Printer Card Account, but the moment she dropped her wallet back in her bag, she felt a presence behind her. His hands gently rested on her hips. In the reflection of the screen, she watched Cameron dip his head to plant a light kiss on her shoulder. To welcome the chills that ran down her spine, she tipped her head so he could access her neck more easily.

Finally, he stepped up completely flush against her back, his warmth seeping through her clothes and lighting her skin on fire. His lips were so soft up and down her neck; she leaned into him, fully accepting his affection with bated breath.

But she only let herself enjoy this sensation for a moment. Cat twisted around to pause his gestures, though his hands remained on her hips and now gripped her tighter. Be strong, Cat! she told herself.

“We’re in a library,” she reminded him in a whisper. Cam chuckled, then leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. Catherine fought the urge to close her eyes.

“Then we’ll have to be quiet, won’t we?” If he didn’t immediately close the space to kiss her, she would have moaned. Her purse dropped from her shoulder, thumping by their feet as his lips crushed hers, hot and fast and hungry. Her heart hammered hard in her chest; giving in, her arms snaked up to his shoulders and she tangled her hands in his hair to keep his lips on hers.

Kissing him was different sober. Back at the party, he seemed to be trying to restrain himself, but now, his fingers dug into her hips, he pressed himself into her, her back against the kiosk she still had to complete her transaction with. The cold metal shocked her skin, was such a strong contrast to his warm hands. One of them snaked down her leg a little, urging her to move it just slightly. Without a second thought, she lifted it to curl it around his hip, giving him better access to step closer, between her legs. He broke away from her lips to continue kissing her neck; she arched to accommodate him, intensifying the warm tingles that spread up through her most sensitive nerve endings.

Cameron grinded against her with his one hand snaking further up her thigh, underneath her dress, inching underneath her underwear as he pulled her against his movements. Oh god. Was this happening right now?

Cat leaned her head back against the kiosk, out of breath. “What if someone sees?”

His breath was hot on her ear. “Then they’ll have a show.” She didn’t mean to moan. She did manage to stop it half way, but couldn’t help but let it go completely when he nibbled on her ear. But reason muttered in the back of her mind.

“I don’t--we have to go back to my place,” she breathed. “I don’t have--oh!--protection.”

“I do.” Oh, did he? Who was playing who’s game?

But Cat still had her hesitations. “I’m allergic to latex, so unless….” At this, Cameron finally sighed and slipped his hand out from under her dress. All it did was stoke the fire inside her.

“Should I run to the store?” She had a feeling it’d be the fastest run to the store he’d ever done, but she shook her head, finally looking to him.

“I have some in my room. Let me just print my paper.” Unfortunately, the damn machine timed out, so she had to pay an additional fifteen cents while Cameron ran his hands down her back and kissed her neck and kept overall being very distracting. But eventually she seized her paper from the printer, folded it into thirds, and shoved it in her bag so they could rush to the elevators for a little more guaranteed privacy.

It was difficult to keep things as tame when the elevator doors guaranteed at least a few seconds of privacy. The string of tension pulled tighter and tighter as they descended into the light traffic of campus on a Saturday; thankfully, it was just across the quad to the giant grassy hill that separated them from their dorm building.

They joked on their way, giggling too easily at jokes that weren’t that funny, just to get out some of the nervous energy that crept up on them the longer their hands weren’t exploring one another’s bodies. Eventually, Cat settled on lightly holding Cameron’s hand, mostly at the fingertips, as their dorm came into view.

“Oh, look, there’s Peter!” Now why did he have to go and ruin the mood like that? “Off to work again?” Cat squinted into the sunlight and used her free hand to shield her face. Peter walked out of the main doors of the dorm, dressed in his usual button-up and dress pants. Did Cam say “work”?

Peter frowned at his roommate, eyes flickering to Cat. “Yeah, picked up an extra shift.” His icy gaze then dropped just a bit to their entwined fingers; an eyebrow twitched, judging. “See you later. Have fun with that.” And before she could yell at him for calling her a that, Peter continued on his way, and Cameron pulled her forward, toward the doors.

“What a prick,” Cat muttered as they went inside. Cameron asked her what she said, but she didn’t repeat herself and instead led him to the elevator.

The instant she was able to shut her dorm room door, Cameron returned to the hot and heavy touching, kissing, licking, nibbling. His hands were all over her, exploring every inch, removing her clothing faster than she’d ever been able to do on her own.

He was generous, in both delaying himself and ensuring she was at least twice as satisfied as he was before he let himself finish. She never found herself wanting; wherever she put his hands, he stayed there and pinched, kneaded, rubbed until she told him otherwise. Every moan she awarded him with gave him new vigor, made him work harder and faster until she seized around him, breathless and dizzy.

As much as Cat enjoyed herself, and as much as she would do it again, it wasn’t what she expected. Cameron collapsed on her bed beside her, clearly pleased with himself. She wasn’t sure what feeling she thought this would bring. But she thought it would be something. Instead, she lay there, a little tired and a little less horny, but that was it. The relief didn’t bring anything with it. No feeling of completeness, no fulfillment.

Cameron stared at her, his arms acting as a pillow for his head, and grinned. “Ten out of ten, would do again?”