Hell on the Heart

Kiss me in the dark
Roll me through the night
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Hit me with your heart
Tell the more to lie
Let your skin talk to my soul
Kiss me in the dark

-Randy Rogers Band

Part XV

She knew she had questioned why she'd liked him before, but this was getting to point where she almost couldn't take it. He was ignoring her, even more than normal, except he kept giving her sly, smug looks that broke her heart. She realized how stupid she was. She was a fool to believe that he loved her back; he was just picking fun at her. She had broken up with the sweetest boy in the world for some jackass that decided he didn't really like her. She was angry at herself for being tricked, but for some reason she couldn't be angry at him. Mainly because she was now sure she was in love with him.

And dammit, she didn't want to be anymore.

He was nothing special, just another jackass that broke her heart and she should have seen it coming. He had had his way with her and he really didn't want anything more. She must have been lying to herself when she thought she saw compassion in his eyes. She must have been seeing things.

"Cammie," her brother's voice bought her out of her dreary thoughts.

"Yes Ashton?" she muttered, not really paying attention.

"Who's the boy?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's a boy."

"Don't you have something better to do?"

He laughed. "Then bother you? Of course not." He was quiet for a moment. "It's Zach isn't it." It didn't sound like a question.

Her eyes drew to him, and she felt insanely tired of lying to him. "Yes."

He looked surprised, as if he had expected her to deny it.

"So you lied to me earlier."

She nodded again, staring out the window rather than meeting his eyes.

"Why?"

"I didn't think you'd approve."

"I don't."

She didn't say anything.

"But . . ."

She wasn't making an argument because Zach obviously didn't want anything to do with her anyway.

"I could," Ashton said. "Zach's a good guy."

"Great," she muttered.

"I thought you liked him."

She smiled grimly. "And I thought he liked me."

Ashton could tell what she meant. "You meant— I'll go talk to—"

"No," she snapped. "Please don't. I'm fine Ashton, sorry for lying to you."

"You don't deserve this."

"I'm fine," she said. "It's not like I won't get over it."

Ashton sighed but nodded, and Cammie knew he would keep his word and not do anything. He didn't like confrontation anyway.

"Thanks," she mumbled, and then dragged her butt up and returned to her room. Except along the way a hand snatched out of a door and caught her arm, pulling her inside. The next thing she knew she was pinned against the guest bedroom's door, Zach's body covering every inch of hers.

"Zach what are you—"

He hushed her quickly, placing his hand over her mouth. She looked up at him with what he hoped were angry eyes.

"Be quiet for a second," he muttered. Downstairs the front door closed and an engine sounded, disappearing in the distance.

He removed his hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, not bothering to keep her voice down.

He looked at her, his green eyes unreadable, as they always were.

"I want to kiss you," he said simply, leaning in, touching his lips to hers.

She couldn't deny how much she wanted that but she forced him off of her, her female hormones enraging her.

"You don't get it do you," she said, watching him as he turned to her, obviously not on the same page.

"Get what?"

She shook her head. "Of course you don't. You don't understand what I gave up for you do you?"

"Cammie what are you talking about—?"

She glared at him. "I gave up Taylor for you. I broke up with him for you, and all I get in return are cryptic remarks and one night stands."

"I'm not following. . ."

"Of course you aren't," she said, ready to storm out. "I guess you wouldn't."

He caught her arm. "You aren't making any sense."

"What doesn't make sense is that you told me you wanted to be with me, that you would fight for me, you seemed willing enough to stab your best friend in the back, and then I tell you that I'm in love with you and what do I get?" she snarled, showing her teeth at him in a sarcastic smile. "You walked away from me."

"Cammie that isn't—"

"You've been avoiding me. You know when I was with Taylor I had this feeling that maybe you cared about me more that some hole for you dick, I guess I was wrong."

She ripped the door and open and stomped out, walking at a fast pace to get to her room. Right as she tried to slam the door a foot caught it.

"GO AWAY!" she yelled, tears falling down her face.

"Cammie," he said, and Cammie felt a little bit better hearing the distress in his voice. At least it showed he care a little bit.

"Zach I can't deal with this right now," she said, trying to hide it so that he couldn't hear that she was crying.

"Cammie," he said again, just repeating her name. "Please open the door."

"No!"

She heard him sigh, and he pushed back, obviously stronger than she was. Annoyed, she let the door open under his weight and like a child, sat down on her bed, burying her face in her pillow.

She was there for about a minute before she felt the bed creak, and warm, soft fingers stroking her hair.

"Stop it," she snapped.

"I love you Cammie."

She jolted up, and looked at him. "What?"

His green eyes were warm now, even though she saw traces of guilt. "I love you, I'm in love with you."

"Great," she said and wiped at her eyes. "Now you're making fun of me."

He kissed her softly, relieved when she didn't try to pull away.

"I am not," he said softly.

"Then why were you avoiding me?"

"Because I couldn't get you alone."

"You didn't have to be such an ass," she said.

"Who would I be without my assyness?" he asked.

She laughed lightly. "You mean it?"

He nodded. "You were right. I would have kill Taylor if it would have gotten me you," he said. "I have no idea why but I always felt he wasn't good enough for you."

"And you were?"

"I knew if you would ever be mine I wouldn't let your heart stray."

A few minutes ago her heart felt like it was about to break, or that it had already been broken, but now it felt like it was about to burst. His words were the sweetest anyone had ever said to her.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

She smiled, almost to herself. "For not being the asshole I thought you were."

He smirked. "I love you," he replied, as if that was more important, which, she supposed, it was.

"It took me a while," she said. "But you know I love you too."

Fin.

(Sorry for the lame ending)