Beauty and the Brit by Poppy St. James

CAMRYN

I’ve just awoken after the most amazing night of my life. Sterling was so attentive, so giving and loving, and I was so lost in the moment, but now I’m freaking out a bit.

“Cami?” he says groggily, sitting up beside me. “Is everything okay?”

I give him a curt nod but the truth is, I’m not sure.

I rise from the bed, tugging the sheet with me to try to preserve some of my modesty, since I’m butt naked. But of course it’s tucked into the ends of the mattress like it’s locked in a vise grip. Seriously? Why do hotels do that?

I drop the sheet and heave in a deep breath. Sterling’s just going to have to see the dimples in my butt and the extra flesh on my belly. But hey, he totally encouraged that cake. He’s a cake pusher. Cake pushers can’t judge you for a little extra flab. That’s like, a rule.

“Cami?” he asks again.

“Just a minute.”

I pick my dress up off the floor and head into the bathroom, where I close the door behind me. The fluorescent lights are much too bright, and I squint at my reflection. Messy hair and sleepy eyes stare back at me.

When did he start calling me Cami?

Cami is much too intimate. Cami is a girlfriend. Someone you watch football with on Sundays while scarfing down an entire bacon pizza. But I don’t even know if Sterling likes American football. He probably watches soccer. I shake my head, trying to force away the fragmented thoughts in my brain.

I slip my dress over my head, realizing that I have nothing to wear underneath it.

After using the restroom and splashing cold water on my cheeks, I try to compose myself before facing Sterling again.

When I exit the restroom, Sterling’s sitting on the end of the bed, and he looks up at me with an encouraging smile. He’s dressed now, thankfully.

“You sure you’re okay, love?” he asks, his voice soft but steady.

I gulp down a sigh and nod again. The mood in this hotel room has changed drastically in the last five minutes. I was worried about tonight changing things between us, and I was right. Things feel different—more complex and cloudy. There are now layers of gray lurking between our once-happy friendship and playful banter.

Shoving my bra in my purse, I slip my bare feet into my heels.

“You’re leaving?” he asks, rising to his feet to stand before me. “I thought we’d stay together tonight . . .”

The gleam in his eyes also says he was hoping this would be the case, but there’s no way that’s happening. The need to escape is far too great.

“I can’t tonight. I need to make sure I’m ready for tomorrow,” I manage to say, my voice shaky.

He nods swiftly. “Right. Tomorrow. Of course.”

The truth is, I need to be in my own space, need to process this. And I can’t wake up next to him and then head off to the recruiting event together. No way. I still can’t believe we went all the way tonight. I have no idea where his head is at. Maybe it was just a bucket-list thing on his part—all I was to him was one last hurrah before he has to tie the knot.

“I hope you understand,” I add.

“Sure,” he says, curtly. “Let me make sure you can get into a taxi okay.”

A flash of disappointment crosses his features so briefly, I’m sure I imagined it.

I shake my head. “The valet outside will help me. I’ve got this.” Heading to the door, I heft my purse strap higher on my shoulder.

His fingertips curl around my wrist just as I’m about to open the door, and he turns me to face him. “Tonight was—”

“I know.” I have to stop him; I can’t hear him say that it was the best, most amazing night of his life, because I know it was for me. I can’t hear him say that and walk away, just to work alongside him tomorrow like this never happened. It’s best to turn around and leave, so that’s what I do.

Moving as though I’m trapped in a deep fog, I put one foot in front of the other, and then I’m in the elevator under the harsh lights.

All the gray murkiness fades away once I’m standing outside on the curb, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

I love him.

The way Sterling’s scared to believe in love, but still wants to, the way he takes care of his mother, the rough gravelly sound of his voice when we made love, the way he listens to all my opinions and nods, the way he pleasures me like no one else has . . .

I love him.

And I’m terrified about what will happen tomorrow.