He reaches over me, lifts the phone off the base and presses a few buttons. His eyebrows bunch as he takes me in, eyeing me up and down. He clears his throat, the sound repeating through the speakers of the building. "Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch, please return yourself, and all your Good Vibrations, back to your office. There's a beautiful girl sitting at your desk. No need for alarm. Apparently she's just here to sniff around."

A moment later, Mark walks in. He tries to contain his smile, but it's evident he found it just as funny as I did. I don't laugh though, or even smile, because if I did... smirk-the-jerk wins.

He smacks Cam on the back of the head. "What did I tell you about using the PA system as your own personal microphone?" He winks down at me. "You want me to tell the beautiful girl at my desk about that time when you were ten and you thought you could beat-box? And how I had to upgrade the entire phone and PA system because you spit so much saliva into the receiver there was a permanent crackle in all the speakers?"

Cam's smirk disappears.

And I laugh.

All out laugh.

It completely takes over me.

I've laughed a few times since Mom died, but not like this. Not so hard that I can't control it. I hold my sides, trying to ease the pain. When I finally settle and open my eyes, Mark's gone. Cam is leaning back against the desk watching me with an emotion on his face I can't decipher. He pushes off the desk and blows out a long, heavy breath. "You make my world stop, Lucy."

***

He's changed out of his baseball uniform and into workout shorts and a loose tank. Apparently, he works at the dealership sometimes—washing cars and whatnot.

I don't watch him just outside the office window. I don't note that boys like him shouldn't look like that at fifteen. I don't constantly zone out thinking about the way he kisses me. I don't stare at him at all. Nope. Not for a second.

I'm not even watching him as a girl comes up and starts talking to him. He stops what he's doing, drops the hose, and walks up to her. I don't notice that he glances into the office quickly. He won't see me watching, because I'm not.

She cocks her hip to the side and crosses her arms just under her breasts, pushing them higher. I recognize the girl—she goes to our school. A junior.

She laughs at something he says and rubs his arm up and down. I'm on my feet, intensely not watching them. Then she steps closer, so close they're almost touching. I don't even realize I've left the building until the sun hits my skin—the heat of it matching the heat of my blood that's pulsating in my ears. Before I know it, my eyes are shut, the hose is in my hand, and I'm pulling the trigger.

Her squeal causes me to snap my eyes open.

Cam's back is to me. His shoulders are lifted and his body's rigid.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she shrieks.

Cam turns around with a glare already in place. When he sees that it's me, the glare fades. He crosses his arms to match hers. "I think you owe Gabby an apology."

"Oh my God," Gabby cries, before turning on her heels and stomping away.

I do the same.

"Where do you think you're going?" Cam yells after me.

"Calling Logan," I shout over my shoulder. I snicker to myself—proud that I was able to come up with a retort so quickly.

It doesn't last long before a cold burst of water hits my back. I freeze. My hands form fists at my sides as I turn to face him. "You're a jerk!"

"Yeah?" he says, dropping the hose. "I know someone that might disagree with you." He flips his cap backwards, and I know what it means. It's the sign. The thing he used to do right before he'd kiss me. I play it out in my head—him stepping toward me, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me to him. And then he'd kiss me.

But that's not what happens.

He turns his back to me and marches off. "Yo, Gabby!" he shouts.

And I lose it.

He was right. He makes me crazy.

I run after him and jump onto his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

He bends over himself, and I think he's going to try to shake me off, but somehow, he swings me around so we're face to face with my legs still around him.

He smirks. "What are you doing?"

Stupid smirk. "I'm going to wipe that stupid smirk off your face."

He chuckles. "How?"

"With my fist."

"Do it with your mouth," he challenges.

My body tenses, and I look around. The reason I didn't do this stuff at school still stands. Nothing's changed. Nothing but Gabby—who's now standing only feet away. "Did you call me?" she asks Cam.

And a fire burns in the pit of my stomach. I know what the fire is now. It's jealousy. "Yeah." I glare at her. "He called you a whore."

Cam chuckles. I don't know why, it's not funny.

"Who the hell are you?" she clips.

I roll my eyes and watch Cam's smirk widen. It pisses me off so much that I wipe it off... with my mouth. I kiss him, harder than I've ever kissed him before. Because it's not just a kiss, it's a message.

When I pull back, he quirks an eyebrow in question. With my legs still around him and his arms holding me in place, I shrug. "I don't like sharing."

"Good," he says before moving in for another kiss. My eyes shut, my lips anticipating the feel of his. But it gets cut short when a burst of cold water sprays us both.