You and Whose Army?(AU,C/C,ADULT) AN 12/29/04 [WIP]

[Applebylicious]

Title: You and Whose Army?
Authors: Lindsay and Dee
Category: Cameron/Channon
Rating: ADULT
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell belong to The WB, Melinda Metz, and UPN. However, the characters of Cameron Evans and Channon Davis belong to Applebylicious and Deejonaise
Summary: Tag to My Life as a Teenaged Superhero

Author's Note: Hi all! This is the Cameron/Channon completed sequel to My Life as a Teenaged Superhero that was originally only to be posted over on the Land of Dreams. But lately I've received several PM's from people who either couldn't access it there, or who wanted me to post it here, as well. So...I've decided to do so. Please note that even though I'll be the one reposting these parts, this story was written by both me and Deejonaise. Credit is due to both of us, even if Dee is no longer with us. If you've yet to read this, I hope you enjoy it...




You and Whose Army?



~Cameron~


“Cam…don’t stop…”

I pull away from Michelle with a groan, ignoring the aching in my groin that demands satisfaction. Sitting up, I wipe at the sweat beading on my forehead and reach over to grab my shirt. I pause as I feel her come up behind me, pressing her naked chest against the bare flesh of my back.

“Cameron…” she moans. “Please…” She accents this comment with a nip to my shoulder. “Why did you stop?”

I turn and offer her a small smile. “You know why,” I answer huskily, unable to keep from glancing at the tempting sight of female flesh presented to me. When she purses her lips, I let out an exaggerated sigh, lightly tracing her mouth with a finger. “Don’t pout, babe…you knew this wasn’t going to happen.”

“Why not?” she demands, tossing her hands wildly. “Cameron…you’re nineteen! This little virgin quest is getting a little ridiculous, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t,” I reply coolly, removing her hand from its descent towards my lap. “I never lied to you, Michelle. I was very upfront about my expectations when we started seeing each other.”

“Yeah, well what about my expectations?” she asks. “Cameron, I think it’s very sweet and all that you respect women so much…but I promise, you aren’t pushing me into anything I don’t want.”

With that she attempts to draw my lips back down to hers, and for a moment I allow myself to succumb. My hand comes up to caress the fullness of her breast, dragging forth a moan from her lush lips. Just as she begins to reach for my zipper, the phone lets out its distinctive ring.

I pull away as she growls with frustration. “This will just take a second,” I promise, although I’m secretly glad for the distraction. Judging by the glint of frustration in her eyes, she knows it. “Evans,” I speak into the mouthpiece, turning away and running a hand through my hair.

“Hey, College Kid.”

“Max,” a giant grin plasters itself across my lips. “Damn, good to hear from you, cuz. What’s going on?” I can hear Liz’s soft voice in the background, and static sounds for a moment before my cousin’s voice rings out again.

“I’ve got some news for you,” he laughs, and he sounds so damn happy that it makes me chuckle as well.

“Don’t tell me,” I tap my chin thoughtfully, leaning over to stare out of my second story dorm window. “You and Liz decided you felt so terrible for missing my graduation party, that you’ve decided to come visit and make it up to me?”

“Yeah…you know we wished we could have been there,” he says seriously. “If spring training hadn’t just started, I would have been there in a heartbeat.”

“It’s no biggie,” I brush it off. “I understand how it must be for a huge football star. After all, you only have a few years left before you’re too old to go running around and have to retire,” I rib him goodnaturedly.

He answers me with a lewd comment that has me laughing and Liz reprimanding him in the background. I hear him apologizing and have to shake my head at just how whipped my once playboy cousin has become. “Tell Liz I said hi,” I add, glancing over to see Michelle silently collecting her clothes.

“Well, you’ll get the chance to tell her yourself,” he answers. “Because you were half-right. We’re ten minutes away from your dorm, so grab your shit and get ready to come home for the weekend.”

“You’re kidding,” I state, pleasant surprise collecting inside of me. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me, asshole?”

“If I had told you, I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of ruining whatever plans you have with whatever gorgeous female you’re going to end up breaking them with,” he answers with a smirk.

“Funny,” I answer with a wince as I recall that I indeed do have plans. “So, what’s the occasion?”

“You’ll find out when everyone else does,” he answers vaguely. “Oh, and I should probably warn you…”

“What?” I ask in a slow drawl.

“Well…Liz called Taylor already and told her to come…” As he trails off, a feeling of dread begins to creep inside me. Sure enough, his next statement sends me into orbit. “She’s bringing her roommate.”

“What?” I bellow, and Michelle jumps a few feet away from me. I offer her an apologetic glance and motion for her to hold up. “You’re kidding me. No way is that going to work, Max. That girl hates me, and well, the feeling’s pretty damn mutual.”

“Suck it up,” he answers sternly. “For God’s sake, Cameron. You and Channon are both nineteen, you attend the same college…it’s time to put a few minor differences from your childhood behind you, don’t you think?”

“Minor differences?” I echo, shaking my head as tightness fills my chest at the thought of seeing Channon Davis again. Not that I don’t see her practically every day around campus. We run in the same circles, know the same people…but we go out of our way to avoid each other.

At first it caused some talk to spread as to the nature of our dislike, but thanks to my reputation nothing much came of it. Eventually people just assumed the truth – we just can’t stand each other.

I ignore the fact that every time I see her, something inside of me nearly bursts with the desire to touch her…just to see if her skin is as soft as it appears to be, or her hair as sweet as it smells whenever I catch the scent on the wind.

“—get into it while you’re here,” I tune back in to hear Max say. “Just stay out of her way if you two can’t get along.”

“You can be sure I’ll do just that,” I mumble, squeezing the phone. “Anyway, let me go grab a shower and I’ll see you guys when you get here, okay?”

As I hang up, I turn to see Michelle staring at me with an unreadable expression. “Sorry about that…it’s my cousin, he’s—”

“Max Evans, the football guy,” she answers. “Yeah, I know. So I guess you’re blowing me off for this weekend?”

I wince theatrically. “It isn’t like that at all. It’s just…” I trail off, not really sure what I mean to say. “Michelle…”

“I guess you aren’t interested in finishing where we left off either,” she interrupts bluntly. “Cam, can I ask you a question?”

“Uh…sure.”

“What are you waiting for?” she asks softly. “I mean…obviously you aren’t moving forward with things for a reason. I just…what’s the reason?”

I gaze into her questioning blue eyes, her words echoing in my mind. What are you waiting for? And as I stare, those eyes take on a different shape…and different color. The face transforms into someone else entirely, and it leaves me shaken. “I’m waiting for it to feel right,” I answer gruffly, banishing the forbidden thoughts from my head.

“And it doesn’t feel right with me,” she surmises wistfully. I don’t respond and she sighs. “It’s all right, I suspected as much. I have to say, I don’t like it…but I guess I understand.” She steps forward and presses a soft kiss against my lips, pulling back to caress my cheek. “You’re a good guy, Cam Evans. Different…but good. I envy the girl who puts you in your place.”

With those enigmatic words, she’s turns and leaves. I stand there for a minute before turning back to the window. As I gaze across the grassy quad, my eyes immediately seek out the figure sitting in her usual spot beneath a large willow tree.

Her long, dark hair is pulled into a tail that slides across one silky shoulder as she shifts to bring one long leg beneath her. In one hand she holds a small paperback novel, probably a trashy romance – one of her self-proclaimed addictions. I watch as she uses her other hand to bring an apple up to her shiny lips, munching happily as she reads.

That same peculiar sensation creeps through me as I stare unabashedly. During moments like this, I can hardly understand why we rub each other in such a wrong way. But from personal experience I know that if I was to go down and speak to her, she’d clam up and that serene expression would turn to one of pained aversion.

I’ve learned not to bother, and not to let it bother me. I’ve also become a helluva good liar, judging by my ridiculous inner monologue. The sad truth is, I care too damn much. I’ve never understood why Channon would rather chew nails then be in my presence. During high school when kids were busy hooking up, I was a self-proclaimed virgin. There wasn’t a person in school who didn’t know of my one dating rule, yet I never received anything more than some goodnatured ribbing from the guys. But none of that moved Channon, who still looked at me like I was off corrupting generations of young women with my crooked ways.

Deep down I know that I haven’t exactly acted the same way around her that I would any other more normal female. But there’s nothing normal about Channon…and she drags out every egotistical trait I possess. That’s another reason why I can’t stand her. She turns me into a different person, makes me want things I’m not ready for.

I stare for a long moment, then let the curtain fall back as I prepare for Max’s arrival. Thirty minutes later, I’m just zipping up my suitcase when a loud knock sounds on the door. Grinning, I leave the luggage where it is and walk over to open the door.

I’m immediately pulled into soft arms and Liz squeals, “Oh my God! I can’t believe it… you get more gorgeous every time I see you.”

“Ditto, gorgeous,” I quip, placing a smacking kiss against her lips before pulling back to stare into her pretty face. “Wow, you look…radiant.” It’s the only word to describe my cousin’s wife as she smiles back at me.

Her normally golden-tinted skin glows with an attractive flush, her deep brown eyes sparkling. I can’t help but grin back at the small tilt of her nose, she’s just so damn cute. Always has been.

When I was younger, I nearly believed myself to be in love with Liz Parker. Something about her is just…perfect. And as I turn to glance at my cousin, I glimpse the same sort of awe shining in his eyes as he gazes at his wife.

Squeezing Liz’s shoulders one last time, I quirk a brow. “Break any bones lately, Gramps?” I direct towards Max as he makes a face at my teasing. The fact that he’s been playing professional football since a record young age has always been a source of amusement for our family, seeing as how Max is generally a decade younger than his teammates.

At twenty-six, Max Evans is still the same athletically toned picture of physical fitness that he was at eighteen. He’s a bit stockier now, thanks to the tough regiments of working out he’s had to do for the Saints.

“I can break some of yours, pretty boy,” he answers, but reaches forward to pull me into a hug that contradicts his gruff statement. “I can’t believe I missed your smart mouth.”

“My mouth’s yet to receive any complaints,” I wink towards Liz, who shakes her head and giggles. “God, you really do look beautiful.”

“Stop hitting on happily married women,” Max knocks me upside the head. “You’ve got your hands full as it is, or so I’ve heard.” He smiles slowly, filled with devilish amusement at my expense.

I let out a groan. “Mom’s been talking, huh?” I wince. “Really…it isn’t as bad as she makes it out to be.”

“The way she’s talking, you’re never going to settle down…you’ve dated hordes of women – and let me emphasize that was her phrasing – and yet you’ve never stayed with any of them long enough to let the dust settle before you’re kicking up your heels and moving on to new conquests. Once again, her words, not mine.”

“That makes Cam sound like he’s a womanizer,” Liz frowns. “I don’t agree with that at all.” I flash her a smile, grateful for her defense, when she adds, “He just can’t make up his mind, is all.”

Ignoring Max’s snicker, I discreetly elbow him in the ribs. I think my elbow receives more damage than the rock he passes off as a stomach. “Jesus, what do you feed him? Cement?” I yelp, rubbing my arm.

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice about making a move like that,” Max smirks, leaning against the doorjamb. I watch as the door across the hall opens and two females walk out, nearly tripping over themselves as they catch sight of my cousin.

“Ho-ly…” one of them mumbles, practically drooling as Max turns around to catch them staring unbashedly at his butt. His ears turn bright red as they smile flirtatiously at him before walking off to giggle like school girls. “Have a good weekend, Cam!” one of them tosses back before they disappear beyond the corner.

“Friends of yours?” Liz arches a brow, appearing disgruntled at the blatant appreciation of her husband by two leggy co-eds.

“Hmm…” is all I say, trying not to grin as she shoots Max a fulminating glare, to which he looks hopelessly lost.

“Let’s just get outta here,” he mumbles, striding in to grab hold of my suitcase. With ease, he throws it across his shoulder and starts down the hallway as Liz and I trail behind.

“Seriously, how have you been?” I question, wrapping my arm around her stomach and squeezing. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“I’ve been good…everything’s been really good,” she answers, sliding her own arm around me as we follow Max out the main doors. “I’m even starting to get used to that crazy football schedule. I won’t be traveling anywhere for awhile though, but all in all…it’s great. I love New Orleans.”

“Liz Parker in The Big Easy,” I grin, shaking my head affectionately. “Who woulda thought it?”

“That’s Liz Evans,” she pinches me lightly. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Right, you’re an Evans now,” I state, hoping to hide the emotion in my tone. “Not that you weren’t one before Max put a stupid ring on your finger.”

“Oh Cameron…that’s so sweet,” I can practically hear her tearing up, and sure enough as I glance her way she’s wiping at the corner of her eye. “I really have missed you.”

“I missed you guys, too.” I pause and pull her into a full on embrace. “And I’m glad you came down for the weekend,” I state into her hair. “This beats the hell out of what I had planned.”

“Be sure not to mention that to…Mischa?” she grimaces apologetically.

“Michelle,” I grin shamelessly. “And I doubt she’d mind. We kind of broke it off before you guys got here.”

“Another potential down the drain?” she asks, but there’s no reproval behind her tone. If anyone understands my behavior, it’s Liz. And Max, too. “One of these days you’re going to meet a girl who isn’t going to let you keep her at arm’s length, you know. Then what will you do?”

“Marry her and live happily ever after,” I quip. “But that’ll never happen, because the only woman for me is already…happily married.” I send her a woeful expression that she responds to by giggling. I’m about to place another kiss on her cheek, when a throat clears.

“Every time I turn around,” Max states blandly. “Romeo, take your hands off my wife and put your crap in the trunk. We still gotta pick up Taylor and Channon from across campus.”

With his words go my good mood. “Oh…wonderful,” I state with as much enthusiasm as a person about to be sentenced to the electric chair. “Let’s get right on that, shall we?”

“Don’t be like that.” Liz flicks the back of my head as she walks past. “You and Taylor get along just fine when you want to.”

“I don’t think it’s Taylor he’s worried about,” Max smirks. I send him a look that promises retribution, but his sneer only widens.

“Oh,” Liz looks surprised. “Channon? But she’s so nice…why wouldn’t you like her, Cameron?”

I squirm uncomfortably as Max tags on, “Yeah, Cam? What gives?”

“Blow me,” I mutter so that only he can hear. He snorts as a plaster a smile on my face. “Nothing. Channon’s very nice…I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”

God, help me.

[Applebylicious]

<center>Chapter 1</center>

~Channon~


“What are you waiting for…a miracle or something?” Flopping onto my back, I glance up absently at Taylor’s exasperated question. She’s glaring at me, hands plunked on her hips.

“Huh?”

“Unless you know something I don’t your clothes aren’t going to magically pack themselves,” Taylor points out tartly, shoving my suitcase at me, “Now get off your ass and start packing, Chan.”

“But I don’t wanna go!” I whine, rolling over fast first into my bed with a groan, “I can be a loser and stay here for the weekend. I’m secure enough to do that.” I don’t think she hears me because my face is turned into my pillow, muffling my words but a second later I feel a disrespectful smack to my butt. “Taylor!” I screech, whipping back over to rub my stinging cheek and shoot her a glower.

“Channon, get up!” she orders fiercely, bustling from one end of the room to another as she haphazardly packs her clothes, “They’ll be here any minute!”

“Great,” I mutter under my breath, “Rah-rah.”

Don’t get me wrong. I love Taylor’s family. Since my parents split in the divorce Taylor and her family have been my oasis. At my house bitterness and recrimination have become the norm, truthfully were the norm even before Mom and Dad went splitsville. When my folks aren’t busy tugging war over who screwed up more they’re screaming and accusing each other of the vilest things. Suddenly their great love is gone. If not for Taylor and her unflagging support I would have run away from home years ago.

The Evanses have been really good about taking me in and, in the five years since my parents divorced, I’ve practically become a part of their family. Taylor’s cousins have become my cousins, her aunts and uncles my aunts and uncles, her brother… Eh…no we haven’t quite made that much progress yet.

I can’t exactly pinpoint what it is about Cameron Evans that rubs me the wrong way but there are days when I could cheerfully beat him unconscious. He’s obnoxious and rude and he certainly thinks he’s God’s gift. And then there are days when he’s noble and sweet and honest to a fault. There are days when he’s all I can think about…

Oh no…not gonna go there. I’m smarter than that now, wiser. I learned the hard way that beneath the exterior of a “good guy” beats the heart of a bonafide dog. Cam might have his high moral standards about sex and all that but he’s still a player. He zips through an endless supply of women, breaking hearts left and right. That alone puts a big fat, red, bleeping, “Danger,” on my radar. Haven’t I already been involved with a guy who proclaimed to be all the things Cam does and didn’t I get my heart broken as a result? Fool me once, shame on you…fool me twice… Well, nobody fools me twice.

It’s only a small miracle I didn’t actually give Mark my virginity. God knows I was close…but then I found out he was cheating on me before the deed could be done. Thank God for Taylor…again. If she hadn’t snapped me out of it I would have ended up doing something I would have regretted for the rest of my life.

That’s why I steer away from guys altogether now. There’s no such thing as a “good guy.” They’re all out for one thing: themselves. Cameron Evans is no different. Oh sure, he’s good-looking and charming on the outside and I’ll admit that his virgin status makes him somewhat seductive but I know it’s just all a part of his ploy. He touts his virginity as a badge of honor, not to beat the women away but to bring them flocking to him in droves.

Nearly every girl in high school wanted to step up to the challenge. Cameron was popular, charismatic, athletic and…a virgin. His openness about that fact was tantamount to walking the halls of West Roswell stark naked. He wanted attention and he got it. Like I said…guys are out for themselves. The exceptions are few and far between. There’s certainly no such thing as happily ever after. My parents proved that in spades. Yeah, I am a little young to be so cynical and embittered but I think after the last near decade of my life I’m entitled.

“Channon, come on!” This time I oblige Taylor enough to roll upright but that’s the extent of it. She offers me a sympathetic look. “It won’t be so bad,” she promises, “You can crash at my place the entire time. You won’t even have to see your mom.”

And that’s the crux of it. I’d rather spend my weekend at the dorm with a handful of strangers than travel home for the weekend and deal with my mother’s wild mood swings and my own abandonment issues. I haven’t spoken to my dad in nearly six months now. It’s my personal opinion that my mom drove him away with her continual ranting but Lord knows I’d catch hell if I ever said so. But the resentment is there, so close to the surface I feel like a volcano on the brink of eruption. Avoiding home doesn’t only seem an easy decision but a wise one as well.

“This isn’t just about my mom,” I grumble a bit dishonestly, “I really don’t want to go. It’s your family, Taylor. I get tired of feeling like the fifth wheel.”

“Since when have we ever made you feel that way?” she cries in a hurt tone, “Channon, you know my folks love you. They’d probably trade you in for Cam if it was legal.”

I have to grin at that, but I’m still not ready to acquiesce. “Tay, just forget about me,” I sigh, “Go home and spend time with your family. I’ll be fine here…I promise. I’ll just catch up on my studying or something. Maybe I’ll actually pass Biology. I’m hanging on by my fingernails, you know?”

Taylor flops down beside me, apparently pained by the very suggestion. “I’d never be able to enjoy myself knowing you were here all alone,” she pouts, “And with no one but creepy Barbara Jennings to keep you company.”

“Hey, she’s not that creepy,” I joke laughingly, “And if she tries anything I have a whole bottle of mace.”

She doesn’t laugh as I hoped. No, Taylor Evans is on a mission now and she will not be deterred. “Channon, come on,” she whines again, “It’s not going to be as bad as you think.”

“Stop it, okay,” I groan with an eye roll, “Even if I were able to avoid my mother the entire time, which is virtually impossible, your brother and I will be at each other’s throats the whole weekend. I just don’t need the stress, Taylor. It would be easier for everyone involved if I just stayed here.”

“Cam isn’t going to be a problem,” she decides.

I arch one brow in challenge. “Why? Are you going to hogtie him and stuff him in your dad’s freezer? Superglue his lips together? What?”

“My cousin is going to be down, too, remember? Cam practically worships the ground he stands on. He’ll be too busy following Max around like a little lap puppy to give us grief.” She loops her arm about my shoulder and gives me a tight hug. “Are you really going to say no to me?” she wheedles, “Do I have to do the face, Channon Davis?”

“Oh God, no…not the face,” I mock cry, shoving her away to grab up my suitcase, “But just remember if there’s bloodshed…it’s on your head.”



<center>****</center>



We’re in his cousin’s Lexus SUV three minutes, me in the middle and Taylor and Cameron in the very back, before I want to kill him. It’s not that he says anything. He never has to. It’s the condescending way he eyes my novel as I climb into the seat. I see that eyeroll and immediately begin grinding my teeth.

“Troll,” I greet tersely.

“Hag,” he returns blithely.

“All right…cool it,” Max interrupts before we can really get on a roll. He swivels around in his seat to regard Taylor, Cameron and me. “Okay, this is the deal…there will be no snarking, no namecalling, no pinching or biting. There will be no bickering of any kind,” he stresses, “The first time I hear it you’re on the side of the road.”

“She started it,” Cameron grumbles.

“She started it,” I mimic disdainfully, “What are you? Five?”

He very casually flips me off. “Bite me,” he mouths.

“Fuck you,” I mouth right back.

“Okay, you guys, stop it,” Taylor hisses in annoyance, “If I’m going to have to sit back here with you both for the next two and half hours I refuse to listen to this crap! In fact, Chan, let’s just switch seats…that way you and Cam can sit next to each other while you snark.”

Her suggestion has me whipping around with an incredulous glower. “Are you crazy?” I burst out, “There’s a free seat right here.” I gesture to the empty seat next to me. “Why should I move?”

“You know he’s going to be irritating you the entire way,” Taylor replies glibly, already unbuckling her seatbelts to switch seats, “And you don’t know how to ignore him. So sit back here and that way you can put him in his place all you want.”

As she shifts from the front and I shift from the back, Max and Liz seem to take all our movement in stride though I’m sensing having us switch seats while he’s driving is a little distracting for Max. Meanwhile, Cam is sputtering hard to defend himself.

“This is complete bullshit!” he cries, “Hey, I didn’t say--,”

“Oh, Cameron, shut up,” Taylor snaps before he can even begin his argument, “You always start shit with her and I’m tired of it. Grow up already!”

“Me?” he bleats in dubious affront, “Excuse me but she’s the one who started hurling insults!

“You know you aggravated her!” Taylor tosses back unfairly.

“Yeah, you aggravated me!” I pipe obnoxiously.

“Aggravate this.”

The crude gesture he makes has me gasping and sputtering at the same time. “You are so…so…” I flail around for the perfect insult while he just grins.

“So what?” he ventures, “Good-looking? Smart? Sexay?”

“In your dreams, Ca-Moron Evans.”

“Oooh, that burned,” he mocks, “Like when I was six!”

“Ahem,” Max clears his throat from the front, “This is your first and last warning. It’s a long, hot walk back to Roswell, New Mexico, guys.”

“Amen!” Taylor grouches, “Now maybe I can get some sleep.” With that, she leans her head back against the seat and closes her eyes.

Cameron and I remain dutifully silent with Max’s warning and I don’t miss the secret smirk Max and Liz exchange over our antics. Their looks of amusement quickly develop into soft looks of love, however, and I watch as they twine their fingers together over the armrest.

Seeing how in love they are with one another after more than seven years of marriage strikes something deep within me. I want that for myself…I really do. I want a man who will look at me with the same blind adoration that Max directs at Liz, but then there’s also part of me that believes such desires are a pipe dream.

Remember when I talked about the exception to the man rule? That would be Max Evans. His affection for his wife is something he displays openly. There’s no shame about it. He adores her and he lets everyone know it. I can’t imagine them ever saying the hateful things my parents have said to one another. I can’t imagine them ever trashing the life they’ve built together for someone else.

But the cynical part of me says that it won’t last, just like nothing else does. After all, Max Evans is a big hotshot pro football player. He’s on the road like 80% of the time. I’m sure Liz can’t be with him all the time. She’s a career girl, after all. And, to reiterate, Max is on the road a lot, not to mention the fact that the man is a stone cold fox. He’s got to have groupies. So how long until he gives into temptation and…

Yet, even as I consider the scenario it seems impossible. Not when the joy he garners from just stroking her fingers is written all over him. Not when she looks at him as if he’s the only thing in the world she can see. Not when they are obviously so much in love with each other that it hurts to even be in their presence. Why couldn’t my parents be like that? Why couldn’t they love like that, too?

The questions bring with them tears and I’m mortified to realize it. The last thing I want to do is have an emotional breakdown when Cameron Evans is there to witness it. He’d never let me live it down. For the sake of my dignity I turn my gaze out the car window and watch the desert roll by. It’s easy to let my tears fall then because no one can see them.

When my emotional moment has passed, I take up the Judith McNaught novel I’ve brought along with me, an oldie but goodie, and start to read. Taylor is fast asleep by now, as is her norm during road trips, Max and Liz are engaged in soft, private conversation up front and Cameron…looks bored out of his mind. He’s definitely not a conversation choice so distracting myself with a book seems like the most reasonable thing to do.

I’m pretty heavy into the chapter, right after Jordan removes Alex’s rusty helmet after she’s knocked from her horse and faints, when Cameron’s insufferable voice interrupts my flow. “I don’t understand how you read that crap,” he sneers.

Mentally, I count to ten before glancing up. “Maybe because I like it,” is my tart reply, but low enough that Max won’t hear us and know we’re bickering again.

“It’s just the same plotline regenerated over and over,” he remarks in the most condescending tone, “I’d get tired of reading the same recycled crap if I were you.”

“How would you know it’s recycled?” I seethe, “Are you a closet romance reader yourself?”

“Why do I need a book when I can have the real thing?” he tosses back airily. I set my teeth, refusing to respond to his goading but he’s not finished with me yet. “Maybe if you took your nose out of those books long enough you might actually get a real date and some real romance. It’s just a thought, Davis.”

I bare my teeth in mocking imitation of a smile. “Why, Cameron…I didn’t know you cared so much.” My expression falls deadpan. “Please don’t.”

“I don’t care,” he shrugs, “But it’s not like you’re a freak of nature or something. I mean…you’re passable enough. It just seems a waste that you’d want to spend all your time reading books instead of hanging out and having fun.”

“I’d expect something like that from you,” I retort flatly, “And, for your information, I know how to have fun! I happen to think reading is fun!”

“Whoo-hoo! Davis, you party animal, you!” he mocks before swiveling around completely in his seat so that we’re face to face.

I don’t know if I like the position because it affords me with an unobstructed view of his beautiful face and I can’t pretend it doesn’t affect me. Truthfully, he affects me more than he probably realizes, more than I want to acknowledge. I just don’t get myself. There are times when I loathe being around him but then I yearn for it at the same time.

“I see right through you, Channon,” he declares softly, his gaze oddly probing, “You hide behind those stupid books and you know it. You read about fake people’s love lives so you don’t have to deal with your own.”

“Thank you, Sigmund Freud.”

“You know I’m right.”

“I know you’re an ass,” I hiss carefully when I notice the warning glares Max shoots back at us. I scowl at him. “You’ve gained all this insight just based on what I read? Whatever. Not all of us feel that Busty Biker Babes is primo reading material. I’m so sorry I can’t fit into your view of what normal is, Cameron Evans, but, given the sort of person I know you to be, I hardly doubt your approval matters all that much!”

He snorts but I see a flash of something in his eyes that makes me feel regret over my outburst. And then, without warning his demeanor changes completely and he goes from droll and snarky to quiet and reflective. Instead of reaming me with another insult, which I expect and I’m totally prepared for, he levels me with a saddened, thoughtful look instead. “You think I’m pretty depthless, don’t you, Channon?” he asks softly.

His calm, thoughtful tone takes me aback and I almost miss my opportunity to zing him. “And you’ve proven me right over and over again,” I reply blandly, “Don’t act so hurt…I know my opinion doesn’t matter a damn to you, Cameron.”

I’m pretty steady right now outwardly, but inwardly I’m a ball of confusion. I’d be lying if he sudden seriousness doesn’t leave me shaken. I’ve gotten so use to putting up a wall whenever I talk to him that it’s hard to turn it off…even when he’s being real.

“Maybe there’s more to me than you think,” he suggests.

Now it’s my turn to snort. “Doubtful,” I sneer, “Surely, such a miracle would have manifested itself by now.”

He shrugs again, but I could swear the action is affected this time, like he’s trying to cover hurt feelings. “You just don’t know me as well as you think you do,” he tells me and it’s almost like a promise, “One day I’m going to surprise you, Channon Davis, and you won’t know what hit you.”

I don’t know why but for some reason that fruitless promise makes me shiver.

[Applebylicious]

<center>Chapter 2</center>


~Cameron~



I’m awakened an unknown amount of time later by the sound of a car door slamming. My eyes drift open and through my lashes I see Max fiddling with the gas pump, Liz asleep in the passenger seat. I move to stretch my muscles, sore from the cramped surroundings, but my arm doesn’t budge.

I’m suddenly aware of the warmth pressed against my side and glance down to find Channon curled up against me, her head lolled peacefully upon my shoulder. One dark curl falls across her cheek, her lush lips parted to emit tiny, even breaths. I have to force myself not to react to the shock of having her this close to me, when I look further down to see her hand gently cupping my crotch like a baby would a teddybear.

Every lingering remnant of sleep dissolves from my mind, leaving me completely awake and aware as I stare down at her soft palm against the denim of my jeans. I clench my teeth, struggling not to move as my breath turns heavy, arousal pumping through my blood. By all rights, I should reach down and remove her hand from my lap before she wakes up and awkwardness ensues. But a perverse part of me has my free hand reaching down to press hers more firmly against my rapidly growing erection. Her fingers twitch in an unconscious caress and a small sound escapes her lips, a sort of breathy moan that makes it hard for me to remember that we’re technically not alone.

She shifts, nuzzling her cheek against my shoulder and sighs, “Cameron…”

The second my name leaves her lips she stiffens and I hold my breath as a ragged gasp leaves her lips. Exploding into motion, she yanks her hand away from me and bolts upright, nearly clipping me in the chin with the top of her head. She doesn’t meet my eyes right away, and I glimpse the blush coloring her cheeks.

When she finally slants a glance in my direction, her teeth are bared in a nasty scowl. “You’re such a pervert,” she hisses, reaching over to slap me on the arm. “Is this how you’re used to getting women? By groping them while they’re sleeping and unable to defend themselves?”

I hide the hurt her words cause by affecting an expression of nonchalance. Mirroring her tone, I pointedly gaze downward and sneer, “I wasn’t the one groping, baby.”

Her jaw clenches and she turns away. “So typical,” she mutters, brushing her hair away from her face. “You’re such a guy.”

“Was that supposed to wound me?” I hold a hand to my chest, pretending injury. I’m about to speak again, when the sound of a cell phone begins to ring in the tense atmosphere. Liz and Taylor come awake, blindly groping around for their purses as I hold Channon’s gaze. “Mine,” I state out loud, pulling the tiny device out of my pocket. Taylor mumbles sleepily and changes positions while Liz steps out of the car to speak to Max.

“’Lo?” I speak into the mouthpiece, laying my head back as I stretch my legs. I’m barely cognizant of whoever’s on the other line, simply making sounds of agreement while being too aware of Channon’s gaze still upon me.

“Cameron? Hello??”

“Huh, what?” I start, clearing my throat sheepishly. “Sorry, babe…what were you saying?” I hear a snort come from beside me, and have to force myself not to look at her. I’m sure her expression is filled with the familiar disgust and condescension that always appears whenever we’re around each other.

“Cam, where are you?” the female voice pouts on the other end. “Kelly and I went to your room earlier…I thought we were all going to the lake this weekend?”

“Something came up,” I answer, shifting and purposefully grazing against Channon’s bare thigh as I do so. She stiffens and nearly hisses as I flash her an unrepentant smile. “I had to go out of town this weekend, babe.”

“Babe,” she mouths, rolling her eyes and staring out of the opposite window.

I end the phonecall, keeping my eyes on Channon as she picks up her novel and starts pretending to read it. I say pretend, because her gaze is moving way too fast to actually be comprehending anything. I roll my eyes and reach forward to shake my sister on the shoulder.

“Hey, hook me up with five bucks,” I state, my stomach growling as I glance over at the gas station vending machines. “I had you on the last stop.”

“Thanks for ruining a perfectly good dream about me and Brad Pitt,” she mutters, smacking my hand away. “Ow! Leave me alone, Cam!”

“Taylor…” I sing, finding the ticklish spot beneath her arm that has her squealing with laughter. “Give me the money, Taaylorrr.”

“Cameron!”

“Oh for God’s sake, here’s five dollars,” Channon tosses a bill at me. “Do you mind? I’m at a very crucial scene here, and quite frankly, your voice is ruining it.”

I lean over far enough to read over her shoulder. “…Jordan stroked his hand down her arm to her rib cage, then upward, cupping her breasts, circling her nipples with his thumb—”

“Cameron!” she jerks away and glares at me as Taylor starts giggling. “God, you’re such a perve!”

“I’m not the one reading about Alexandra’s blossoming nipples,” I point out, jumping out of the car before she can reply. Not bothering to hide the grin stretching across my lips, I saunter inside the gas station, whistling over having the last word with Channon.

I grab some snacks and the latest issue of Sports Illustrated, prepared to toss in some of my own cash to cover the difference. As I make my way towards the counter, I pause and pick up a last minute selection.

Flashing the bored cashier a quick grin, I pay for the items and make my way back out to the car. Seeing Liz’s back to me as I approach, I grin devilishly before sneaking up behind her, growling into her ear, “Don’t move. There’s a giant bug right in your hair. Oh shit… are those claws?”

“Oh my God!” she squeals, spinning around and batting at her head as I double over laughing. “Ohh…Cameron!” she smacks my arm, rolling her eyes as she fights a grin. “You’re evil.”

“You’re such a wuss, babe,” Max chuckles. “And gullible, too. How many times has he gotten you with that one?”

She sticks her tongue out at both of us and gets back in the car. I catch my cousin eyeing her butt and clear my throat loudly. “Dude, you gotta stop staring at her so hard…don’t you get a headache from it?”

“I wouldn’t be talking if I were you,” he smirks, tucking the gas pump back in place. “Like you aren’t purposefully baiting Channon, hoping she’ll lose her mind and possibly throw herself at you?”

“What…I…what…” I sputter indignantly. “You’ve lost it, man.” I can feel the heat creeping up my face as he starts snickering. “I don’t give a rat’s rear end what that girl thinks.”

“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that cuz,” he pats me on the back. “Maybe one day, you’ll start believing it.” His eyes fall to the items in my hand and one thick brow quirks. “Since when did you start eating granola?”

I follow his gaze down to the bag in my hand and my flush darkens as I avoid his knowing smirk. “It’s not for me,” I mumble. “It’s for…Channon. I don’t know, she gave me the money, I figured I could get her…” I trail off as he starts laughing. “Screw you.” I yank open the car door as he continues guffawing behind me. “Thinks he knows every damn thing,” I mutter, sliding into my seat.

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Channon snarks in a hushed voice, not moving her eyes from her book. “Wow…think you’re related?”

“You’re so funny,” I state in an exaggerated tone of awe. “Like, you really know how to get me…right where it hurts.” Rolling my eyes, I toss the bag of granola at her then yank open my own bag of cheddar cheese and sour cream chips. I’m munching away when I glance over and see her staring at the granola.

“What’s this?” she demands in a funny voice, blinking like she’s never seen the like before, then looking up and meeting my eyes.

I tap my chin thoughtfully, leaning forward to ponder the bag. “Looks like that healthy crap you’re always eating to me,” I state sarcastically. “I don’t know why you’d rather eat a bunch of nuts and berries than the good shit. Don’t you know what you’re missing?”

She doesn’t respond to my jibe, simply continues to stare at me. “But…why?” she asks softly. “I mean, why did you get this? For me?”

I pause mid-chew, noting her uncertain tone. Swallowing, I glance away and shrug. “It’s no big deal…I figured it was your money, it’s the least I could do.”

She doesn’t answer, and when I glance back over I’m shocked to see tears gathering in her eyes before she glances away. Something inside of me tightens and I state gruffly, “Look, if it bothers you that much, I can just take it back.”

“No,” she says quickly, sniffling as she turns away from me. “No…I…thanks,” she settles for. “It was…nice of you. Thank you.”

Our gazes collide and something dangerous sparks through the air. Shaken, I search for something to say to bring us back to a safe place. The first thing out of my mouth is, “Just be careful, you might get buck teeth and start hopping around if you keep eating that crap.”

She rolls her eyes, but relief also floats across her expression before she answers, “At least I don’t eat the poor bunnies.”

“Vegetarian hag.”

“Carnivorous troll.”

Taylor turns around and says, “Don’t you two ever get tired of arguing with each other? I swear…ya’ll remind me of Michael and Maria.”

“Shut up!” we both snap at her, our faces turning bright red as we scoot as far away from each other as possible. “Don’t you have a boyfriend to call and warn – I mean, let him know you’re coming home?” I flutter my lashes innocently.

“You’re an asshole, Cameron,” she glares. “And Steven already knows I’m coming…he’s meeting us at Mom and Dad’s.”

“Oh wonderful,” I mutter. “An evening with Steven the Plaster Saint.”

“You’re just jealous that I’ve been in a committed relationship for two years, whereas the length of yours last about as long as it takes you to change your underwear.”

“You’re sick, keeping up with my underwear habits,” I grimace mockingly. “And me, jealous of Steven? Please, don’t make me laugh…I’d rather save it up for someone who deserves the gift of my sex-ay chuckle.”

“All right, it’s my turn to pick a CD,” Max calls out as he slides in and starts fumbling with the giant folder of music. “I’ve had about enough of this chick power music.”

“Hey, I like Tori Amos,” Liz answers in affront as I shout, “Amen, brother!”

“Sorry babe…but that is strictly Pussy Music,” Max returns, and gets a slap on the arm for his efforts. “Ouch! Damn woman, that’s gonna leave a mark…what am I gonna tell the guys, that my wife was beating me up?”

“Hey, put in some Chili Peppers,” I suggest, leaning back and taking a swig from my drink. “Maybe some…Californication.” I wiggle my brows as the girls all groan. “What?”

“That’s a good idea,” Max nods, pulling out the CD and sliding it inside the player. “An oldie but a goodie.”

Max and I sing along with Anthony Kiedis, grinning as Liz plugs her ears and Taylor groans long and loud. Channon simply ignores us, obviously too enraptured in her novel to care what we listen to. A devilish thought enters my mind as I stretch my arm out along the back of her headrest.

With a quick tug on her hair I yelp, “Oh crap, Chan! There’s a huge bug…and it has claws!”

She squeaks and nearly jumps out of her seatbelt as Liz turns around and gives me a look. “Oh my God, where is it?” Channon demands, nearly spilling granola all over herself as I start cracking up. “What’s so funny?!”

“Nothing,” I gasp, holding my stomach as I lean forward. “The look…on your face…”

“Cameron, you’re such a freak!” Taylor announces. “And Channon, I can’t believe you fell for that.”

“They all do,” Max mutters wryly. “Gullible…every single one of them.”

“It’s the baby face,” Liz decides. “He just looks so innocent about it.”

“Hey, I am innocent,” I grin shamelessly. “As a baby angel.”

“What a sacrilege,” Taylor mumbles as I look over to see Channon glaring at me.

“One of these days…and you won’t know when or where,” she promises direly, picking up granola flakes from her lap. “But it will be so worth it.”

“Anytime you’re ready, babe,” I state with casual indifference, despite the fact that my heart’s racing from her threat. Not out of fear, but out of anticipation.

“I’m not your babe,” she growls through her teeth.

I shoot her a doleful glance from beneath my lashes. “I was just trying to be like one of the guys from your porn novels.”

“It’s not porn!”

Everyone turns around to stare at us and I have to hide a snicker as Channon’s face turns dark red. “Whatever you say…babe,” I tag on deliberately, unable to keep from grinning as she sends me a look that could fry a hole through my brain.

“So worth it,” she repeats in a mutter, returning to her novel with lips pressed tightly together.

[Applebylicious]

Since this doesn't seem to be getting much feedback, I'm guessing that most of you have already read it over at LOD, lol. Well...here's two chapters for today. Enjoy...

- Linds


<center>Chapter 3</center>

~Channon~


“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

I tear my reluctant gaze from my front door and swivel a glance around at Taylor. There’s part of me that wants to take her up on her offer. The weak, insecure part that dreads facing my mother, that dreads the bitter encounter we’re sure to have but I have too much pride to ask her to stay. Taylor has already paid such a high price to be my friend that I don’t want to ask her for more.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I tell her with forced bravado as I climb from the SUV, “I know Steve is waiting for you.”

“We can wait around if you like,” Max offers generously, “We’re only going next door.”

I smile at him, aware of Cameron’s probing stare the entire time. The last thing I need is for him to witness my embarrassing family drama. He’d happily gloat over it and definitely never let me live it down. No, thank you. I’ve gone this long hiding the sordid nature of my home life from everyone with the exception of Taylor. I’m not about to let that change any time soon.

“I’ll be fine,” I say to Max before tossing Taylor another glance, “I’m just going to spend an hour here tops catching up and everything and then I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” she agrees tentatively, bending forward to give me a reassuring hug, “But remember dinner is at six. My mom is expecting you.”

“Yeah, we’ll be sure to save you the garnish Mom uses for the steaks, Bucky O’Hare,” Cam tosses out sardonically, a comment which has him ducking Taylor’s flying purse a few seconds later. “Hey! Violent much? You nearly took out an eye!”

I roll my eyes but for the most part ignore his antics. Right now I’m too wound up over the prospect of seeing my mom to insult him properly. “I’ll call you,” I promise Taylor again, waving them off as the SUV pulls away from the curb and into the next drive before disappearing into the garage.

And then I’m alone, just me, my house and my mother. Yay me. My stomach rumbles as I start up the walk. I find the key under the potted plant on the porch, where we’ve kept it for as long as I remember. When I push open the front door I’m greeted by the murky interior of our foyer.

Despite the fact it’s still rather early evening every light in the house is off and not a single blind is open. I might have assumed Mom wasn’t home at all if I didn’t hear the faint static of the tv coming from the den. In a shaky voice I call out, “Mom? Mom, are you here?” She doesn’t answer, not that I’m surprised, and I have little choice but to follow the sounds of the television through the house.

I find her passed out on the floor, just in front of the couch. An empty whiskey bottle lies near her head, it’s contents soaked into the carpet. However, I know my mother well enough to discern that she’s soaked up a good deal of the liquor as well. With a long-suffering groan, I hunker down beside her and begin slapping her cheeks to bring her to.

“Mom? Mom?” I hiss sternly, trying not to gag on her overpowering scent, “How much did you drink this time?”

She rolls open bleary eyes and smiles up at me drunkenly. “Baby…look at you,” she slurs, fingering one unruly curl that has escaped from my ponytail, “When did you get home?”

“Mom, I told you I was coming for a visit, remember,” I whisper gently, stroking her sweaty hair back from her face before pulling her into a sitting position. She leans back heavily against the couch. I can’t conceal my disappointment when she gropes beneath the cushions and pulls free yet another bottle. I have to curb the natural instinct to snatch it back out of her hands.

“I thought you said you were going to stop.” I hate the petulant whine in my tone. I hate the fact I care when she’s obviously hell bent on destroying herself but… God, I just want her to be my mother again. “We agreed, remember?”

“Aww…shit, Channon, don’t start with me today!” she gripes, twisting off the top to her bottle and taking a long, unapologetic swig, “You don’t know the fucking week I’ve had.”

“This is getting out of control,” I mumble, “I think you need some help.”

“You think I need some help?” she cries irately, “You think I need help, little girl? Well you know what I think? I think you should mind your own fucking business is what I think! Don’t fucking tell me what I need, you little bitch!”

I learned a long time ago not to respond to her outbursts or give them any merit, although they hurt like hell. But I’ve become quite accustomed to blinking back my tears. I can be a stonewall when I have to be, which is probably why I’ve earned the name “Ice Bitch” from certain others.

“I’m going to clean this place up,” I announce gruffly, “It’s a mess.”

“Ahh, baby…” she groans when I move away to begin picking up the trash, clothes and debris that litters the living room, “You know I didn’t mean it. I’m just in a bad way. I don’t mean to treat you so bad, Chan. It’s just your fucking father--,”

“You’ve heard from Dad?” I exclaim hopefully, whipping around so suddenly that I knock the coffee table askew.

In those seconds it doesn’t matter that I haven’t spoken to him in six months or even seen him in a year. My heart is pounding with the mere knowledge that Mom has had contact with him at all. And, if she’s heard from him, surely he’ll be contacting me soon as well. Unbidden fantasies of him swooping down to take me away from this place flitter through my mind even as I register that the possibility is beyond remote.

“What did he say?” I demand excitedly, falling back down to my knees before her, “Did he ask about me? Did you tell him about how I’m doing in school?”

She snorts a mocking laugh and tips her bottle up once more, chugging the contents hard so that golden trickles of liquid escape the corners of her mouth. “He don’t give a fuck about you, girl,” she sneers when she’s done, “He don’t give a fuck about me. He’s moved on with his life.”

“Moved on?” I echo dumbly, “Mom, what are you talking about?”

Her face suddenly crumples with my question and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look more pathetic than she does right then. She leans her forehead against my shoulder and begins to sob. More out of duty than desire, I let my hand drift up to cradle her against me. “He’s getting married, Chan,” she sniffles into my shirt, “Your dad’s getting remarried.”



<center>****</center>



I watch them laugh and cavort through the window, representative of everything I don’t have in my life.

Their very normalcy mocks me, makes me ache inside. I know if I were to walk in right now they’d accept me effortlessly into their circle just as they always have but something holds me back. I’m saturated with the innate awareness that no matter how open their arms I’m still an outsider. An outsider in their family…an outsider in my own.

It’s raining now. When does it ever rain in New Mexico? Yet it’s coming down hard right now, like cold, stinging needles soaking me straight through my clothes. However, I hardly feel the chill that comes with the rain. I’m numb all over. My mother’s words continue to reverberate in my skull.

Your dad’s getting remarried. Two hours later and it still hasn’t sunk in. Dad has indeed moved on with his life. New life…new wife…new daughter. According to Mom he doesn’t want us mucking up the good thing he has now. He wants to forget he knew us. He wants to forget me.

I’m surprised by how much the knowledge hurts, literally rips me apart inside. I can’t even breathe. Here I haven’t spoken to the man in months. You’d think I’d have a clue by now but… I realize now that there’s something irrefutably wrong with me. There has to be…why else would my own father turn away…? And now he has a new daughter, one not scarred and broken and closed off. A perfect daughter and he’ll love her because he can’t love me.

I lurch back reflexively into the shadows when Taylor comes to peer out the window, no doubt looking for me and wondering why I haven’t called. I wonder if she’s been over already looking for me. After leaving my house I wandered the streets of Roswell with no particular destination in mind before finally turning for Murray Lane when the rain started.

But I can’t go in. I can’t be greeted with their smiles and cheer. I can’t be in the presence of their joy when I feel so empty inside. Unfortunately, I also can’t stay outside in the rain. My clothes are plastered to me like a second skin and I’m starting to shiver. I have two options available to me: either stride through the front door and put on a fake happy face or sneak inside to weep out my misery in the solitude of the basement. The latter wins by a landslide.

I make my way around the side of the house to find the small window. It’s almost never locked and I’m still petite enough to squeeze in through the opening. Taylor and I used to do it all the time when we were younger but that was when it was all open space and concrete.

Sometime during our tenth grade year the Evanses decided to have it refurbished and transformed into a bedroom with a full bath. Upon its completion Cameron claimed it for his own. However, I’m almost certain Cam won’t be around because his family is congregated upstairs so I’ll have a few moments to compose myself before finally joining the others.

However, I’m in the process of shimmying my way through the window and cursing my boobs for making my task less easy when I hear an incredulous, “What the fuck are you doing?” sound behind me.

I groan aloud in acute mortification. It is official. God hates me. Why else would he let the last person I would want to see right now be a witness to what is probably the most miserable moment of my life? And it’s too late to turn back. I’m already halfway in and Cameron has already taken hold of my hips to assist me down.

The moment my feet touch the ground I jerk away from him. “Don’t touch me!” I hiss irately, pushing my wet hair back from my face. “I don’t need your help!”

“Well, excuse me for trying to keep you from breaking your neck,” he retorts, groping around on his bed for a t-shirt. He tosses it at me and it smells so much like him I almost want to cry. “Dry off. You might want to try using the front door next time, genius!” he snorts as I begin dutifully drying my hair and face. He rakes a dubious look down my sodden person. “You look like a drowned cat.”

“I see why all the ladies label you as a smooth talker,” I throw back glacially, flinging his shirt back against his chest when I’m done, “God, how do I keep from falling all over myself?”

I know my sarcasm isn’t lost on him but he ignores my snarkiness for the time being. He sets the shirt aside to regard me with a probing stare and I ignore the fact his scent clings to my skin now.

“Taylor’s been worried sick about you,” he reprimands, “You were supposed to call an hour ago. Did those novels you read fry your brain so bad you forgot how to tell time?”

I open my mouth to come back with a scathing rebuttal but instead the only sound that escapes my mouth is a bubbling sob. I’m mortified to be losing my composure and in front of him of all people but once the tears have started I can’t possibly dam them. I hide behind my hand as the sobs literally tear from my body.

Cameron’s reaction is vehement and instantaneous. “Jesus, Channon!” he cries in dismay, “What happened?”

He makes a grab for me, I guess…I don’t really know what his intention is but I dance out of his reach. I swear if he’s kind to me right now, if he even touches me in a comforting way I’m just going to lose it. “C-Cameron,” I sob, “C-Can y-you please just b-be a d-decent p-person and l-leave m-me alone r-right now?”

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is wrong!” he explodes softly, “What the hell happened? Did somebody hurt you?”

There’s so much sorrow rolling around in me right now that I feel sick with it and the protective thread in his tone just makes things worse. I know I’m not going to be able to hold myself together much longer. I’m too fucking raw. And if he sees me lose it…

“Nobody hurt me. Please just go away,” I practically beg him.

“No! This is my fucking room!”

“Fine, I’ll go then,” I scream unfairly, “Thanks for nothing!”

But I haven’t taken two stomping steps towards the exit before he catches me around the waist and hauls me back against him. He cradles me into his body, seemingly impervious to my wet clothes. The gesture is so gentle, so compassionate, so un-Cam-like that I start crying all over again. And then I just don’t have the strength to fight him anymore. I turn my face into his shirt and just cry like I never have.

I realize that my tears aren’t only for that horrible few hours with my mother but for every moment since their divorce and even before, for every moment I’ve stored and compartmentalized and refused to feel. All the emotions just come crashing down on me at once, so violent and strong that I feel dizzy. The greatest irony is that, in my most vulnerable moment, it’s my archenemy that ends up comforting me. He hugs me close, whispers soothing words into my hair and makes me feel safer than I have in a very long time.

Later, when my tears have died down to soft hiccups, it just makes sense, seems right to bare my soul to him. We sink down in the middle of his floor and Cameron continues to hold me in his arms as I tell him the things in my heart, things I’ve never even told Taylor. The words rush from me unbidden, compelled by his gentle stare.

“My dad doesn’t love me, you know,” I confess gruffly, “At first I thought that it was just the divorce…because he and Mom split but when I think back on it we never close. He never spent time with me. I always felt like I was…this burden to him.”

Cameron brushes away the new tears falling on my cheeks and I stare up at him in wordless uncertainty, caught between wanting to give myself over to him completely and wary suspicion. “He’s getting remarried,” I tell him.

“How do you feel about that,” he asks me.

“How do I feel?” I snort bitterly, “He’s trashing his family for another one…how am I supposed to feel?” I nibble my lip for a moment, stunned by the amount of anger inside of me. “Maybe this is my fault.”

“I think that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Cameron utters softly.

“No, it makes sense,” I insist, rearing back to stare at him, “Maybe I’m the one who drove my dad away…maybe I just wasn’t enough. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t love me because…because I’m unlovable.”

“That’s not true,” he denies with soft vehemence, “If your dad is flaking out on you, Channon, that’s his cross to bear, not yours. You shouldn’t blame yourself and you definitely shouldn’t think you’re unlovable.”

“You don’t know,” I say, shaking my head in protest, “My mom can barely stand to look at me, my dad won’t talk to me at all, and my boyfriend…” I look away, hating myself for revealing so much to him already.

But it’s too late to censor myself with him and Cameron won’t be deterred. He grasps my chin gently and turns my gaze back to his. I find myself falling into his intense stare, getting lost for a minute. “What about your boyfriend?” he queries softly.

“Ex-boyfriend. He cheated on me,” I mumble self-deprecatingly, “I was actually thinking of giving him my virginity but that wasn’t enough for him… God, I’m such a stupid idiot to think I could ever make anyone happy. I wasn’t enough for Mark or my parents. I’m not good enough for anyone! So don’t tell me that it’s not me, Cameron, because I know better. It is me. Hell, even you hate me.”

“That’s not true.”

“What’s not true?”

“I don’t hate you, Channon,” he whispers.

I nearly snort with laughter. It’s either that or start crying again. God, is this what it’s come to? Am I so pathetic right now that he feels the need to patronize me and blow smoke up my ass? The thought makes me grow cold all over. Channon Davis is nobody’s charity case.

“I really need to go,” I declare, pushing back from his arms, “The last thing I want is your fucking pity, Cameron.”

But he doesn’t let me go. In fact, his hold tightens around me, pulling me uncomfortably close. My heart flutters up to my throat in a maddened dance when his fingers skim over my cheekbone, catching the drops of moisture that continue to fall there. His aberrant tenderness stuns me into immobility.

“I don’t hate you, Channon,” he murmurs again and then he does the last thing I ever would have expected.

He kisses me.


<center>Chapter 4</center>

~Cameron~


I can’t help myself.

Staring into those vivid green eyes, her lashes spiked from the tears that tracked down a face that haunted my dreams, I can no longer fight what’s inside of me.

I reach out to grab her arm, pulling gently as she lands directly in my lap. Our eyes meet, lock, and the strangest feeling invades my stomach.

What are you waiting for?

Everything I’ve been waiting for…it’s come down to this moment in time. This perfect moment, where everything feels…right.

“I don’t hate you, Channon,” I whisper in wonderment, framing her face and brushing away the dampness caused from her tears and the rain pouring outside. My lids begin to lower as our mouths grow closer. I can feel her breath against my lips, and I slowly open my own over them…

There’s nothing gentle about our first kiss. We both sink into it, mouths opening wide and tongues tangling on ragged sighs. Her fingers slide into my hair and pull me closer as my own fall to her hips, dragging her more firmly into my lap as a groan escapes into the darkness.

“Oh, God…what are we doing,” comes her breathy whisper, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything she nearly tries to crawl inside me, her legs wrapping around my middle and bringing our bodies flush together. “Cameron?”

The vulnerable hint in her tone gives me pause, and I pull back to stare at her, watching as her lids flutter and a moan of protest spills from her throat. I try not to stare at her glistening lips, swollen and pouting from our fervor. “Yeah, it’s me,” I answer gruffly. “Channon…look at me.”

Her eyes slowly open and lightening cracks outside of the window, illuminating our faces in the dark. She inhales shakily, and whispers, “I just…don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone, Cam.”

“Oh, baby…” I whisper, tracing her cheek with my finger as my heart breaks at the expression on her face. “You’ve never been alone.” Our foreheads touch and I bring her hand up to my lips, nibbling gently on her knuckles. “I’m here…and I’m not going anywhere.”

A long moment of silence ensues, then hands are feverishly roaming across heated flesh, teeth nibbling and tongues gliding. I don’t even realize that my shirt is gone until I feel her fingers trailing along my collarbone, raising goosebumps of pleasure in their wake. I can’t help but shudder when she traces one flat nipple, my breath coming heavily.

“God, you’re ridiculously beautiful,” she whispers in an awed tone, glancing up as I make a rough sound. “What is it? Am I…doing something wrong?”

“God, no,” I laugh thickly. “You’re doing it too right. Come here…let me do it to you…” I plead shamelessly, whispering into her ear and licking the outer shell as she trembles. “Channon…you’re so beautiful…”

“No, I’m not,” she answers sadly. “Don’t lie to me, Cameron…please…”

“I’ve never lied to you,” I murmur, gently sliding her top over her head as our breath mingles. “Why would I start now? God…you’re so soft…” I groan, cupping her heavy breast in my hand. “Just look at you.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but trails off on a gasping moan as I lower my head and take her nipple within my mouth. Her fingers tighten in my hair as I suckle her hungrily. “C-Cameron!”

“Does that feel good?” I ask softly, flattening my tongue across one hard crest as she arches her back. A small smile stretches across my lips as she moans in answer. “I guess it does…” I close my eyes, switching to her other breast and licking gentle circles around her swollen nipple.

“Oh, God…you have to…you have to…” her voice breaks as my teeth scrape across her nipple. “Ohh…”

“You want me to stop?” I manage, lifting my head to regard her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Channon?”

She answers by wrapping her arms around my neck and pushing me to the floor, plastering her naked chest against my own as our lips crash together. My hands grip her waist, squeezing as she grinds against me, lost in the passion of the moment. I can barely think myself, and for the first time in my life I don’t experience the familiar warning signals that tell me things are getting out of control.

I flip us over, laying myself across her as I nuzzle her nose, drawing on her lower lip with my teeth. “So…fucking…long,” I groan out loud, knowing she has no idea what my disjointed words mean. How could she? She’s never been aware of my feelings for her. Hell, I’ve done such a good job hiding them, that it’s nearly like a brick to my own stomach.

Her hands begin to fumble with my zipper and I lift my hips willingly, anxious to feel her hands on that part of me that I’ve always been careful to keep a lid on in these kind of situations. As she pulls my fly apart, dipping her hands into my boxers, I let out a groan and rest my head against her breast as her fingers close around my erection. “Oh, God…”

“Wow…” she whispers, obviously awed as she strokes my length. “Well…Cameron…I mean…wow,” she settles for, squeezing me and dragging forth another groan from my lips.

“You have no idea how good that feels,” I admit roughly, looking up and capturing her lips. As we lose ourselves in the kiss, her fingers still and I reach down to hold my palm against hers. “Don’t stop, baby…” I whisper, holding her gaze as together we stroke my cock. “Fucking incredible.”

“Oh, God…” she laughs, but it sounds more like a choked sob. “Am I losing my mind? Here I am, throwing myself at Cameron Evans…” A strange light appears in her gaze and she stills. “Isn’t this the moment when you pull back and start spouting off about your virginity?”

I swallow, my voice husky when I announce, “I…probably should…” She looks away and I sigh before nudging her with my nose until she meets my gaze again. “I want you. I want you more than…anything,” I admit hoarsely. “God, I…I can’t stop thinking about you, damn it. I’ve never been able to stop…damn you for being so stubborn.”

Her eyes widen at my quietly uttered words, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she gives me a giant green light by reaching for my free hand and bringing it between her legs. “Touch me, Cameron…make me,” she inhales shakily, “make me forget.”

My nostrils flare as I slide her skirt and panties down her legs. “You won’t forget this,” I state fiercely, and before she can reply I plunge my fingers inside of her, our groans mingling as she closes around me like a hot fist. “Oh…hell…”

Within moments, we’re completely divulged of our clothing and rubbing against each other, perspiration dotting our naked flesh as I run a hand down her hip. I can barely keep my eyes open as she grasps me in hand and leads me towards her entrance. “Wait,” I state hoarsely, closing my hand over her with a rough swallow. “What about…protection?”

“I’m on the pill,” she answers breathily. “I started it back when Mark and I got together.” I’m less than happy to hear this, but at the moment…there’s more important things to think about. Like the fact that she’s now gripping my buttocks, easing me inside her as I let out a deep hiss.

“Holy fucking shit,” I groan, throwing my head back as I sink inside of her. “Channon…God, am I hurting you?” I manage to keep from driving myself fully inside of her tight sheath, meeting her glazed eyes.

“It feels so…” she trails off, gasping lightly as I shift. “It feels so…real…” Tears fill her eyes and she drags my mouth down to hers, effectively keeping me from demanding an answer to those enigmatic words. “Make love to me, Cameron.”

“I am,” I groan, moving my hips and sliding forth another inch. “Babe…you’re so…hot…and wet…and beautiful…” As the tip of my cock brushes against the thin membrane that represents the loss of both of our innocence, I pause and glance down into her flushed face. “Look at me,” I demand thickly. “Look at me…I want you to remember…”

When she meets my dark gaze, I lean forward and kiss her, keeping my eyes open as I thrust forward and join us completely. She gasps into my mouth and I groan, unable to keep my lids from falling shut as she spasms around my flesh. Then we’re both panting with need, rearing up into one another as I drive inside of her.

Incoherent words spill forth from my lips, words torn from my very soul as I lose myself inside of her. Memories flash through my mind, images of the past…all of her. Thoughts and feelings long buried but never forgotten.

“God…”

“Yess…”

Her mouth falls open on a silent gasp at the same moment that I let out a long groan, jerking forward as her inner contractions pull me in deeper than I ever thought was possible. I collapse onto her, hips pumping lightly as I ride out the most amazing orgasm of my life…and the only one I’ve ever shared with another person.

Her nails rake down my back as she arches into me, making the sexiest sounds in the back of her throat as her own climax erupts. I lift my head, needing to see the look in her eyes as she comes. She stares back at me, her gaze going soft and heavy, her pupils dilated wide.

“Cameron…” she gasps.

“Channon,” I whisper tenderly, brushing back a damp lock of hair from her face and kissing her lips.

For several long moments we lie there, spent and sated as the rain continues to pour outside, the occasional burst of thunder echoing in the distance. Gradually, I feel her begin to stiffen against me, and I tighten my arms around her as I pull her up against my side. “So…” I murmur softly. “That was…” I trail off, unsure of how to put my feelings into words.

It’s easy to say I love you, especially coming from a family like mine where the words are an everyday part of life. But from what I’ve learned tonight, it hasn’t been a part of Channon’s. Everything inside of me is saying, “Tread with caution, Cameron.”

But before I can speak, she pulls away and sits up, presenting me with her naked back. I prop my head on my hand, shifting on my side to regard her as I reach a hand out, drawing it lightly down her spine. She jerks away, leaving me frowning. “Channon?”

She doesn’t answer at first, simply clears her throat. Then, in a casual voice that completely contradicts the stiffness in her spine, she says, “Well, that was crazy.”

“Crazy?” I echo inanely. The sweat hasn’t even dried from our skin, and she’s already running from me. “Channon, turn around—” I reach for her again, but she’s already grabbing for her clothes and moving away. My hand falls heavily to the ground as my heart begins to beat a thick pulse.

“Look, things got…out of hand,” her voice cracks, but she refuses to look at me. “We can deal with it like adults, right? I was obviously freaked tonight…and you helped me. So…thanks.”

“Thanks?” I snap gruffly, sitting up and raking a hand through my tousled hair. Cursing, I grab for her, but she neatly evades me. “Damn it, look at me!”

“I can’t,” she snaps. “Just…we helped each other out, Cameron. It was nothing more than that.”

I ignore her desperate tone, jumping up and striding towards her as she yanks her shirt over her head. Completely unrepentant of the fact that I stand there naked and still semi-aroused as she wiggles her skirt back up her hips, I fold my arms across my chest and glare at her. “Bullshit,” I state succinctly, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. “Helped each other out, Chan? Is that what it was?”

“Yes,” she hisses, finally spinning around to face me. Her eyes are round and wary, a wall obviously thrown up to defend her against me possibly getting too close. But damn it, I’ve already been close enough. “Cameron, we hate each other…”

“I don’t hate you!” I shout. “God damn it!”

“Fine!” she steps back, obviously shocked by my vehemence. “Fine, you don’t hate me…but let’s face it, Cam…you don’t like me. And I…I don’t like you either.”

“Bullshit,” I repeat softly. “Look at me and say that. I’m over here, Channon!”

“It was a mistake,” she adds shakily, as if I had never spoken. “A very…pleasurable one, and I thank you for that. I could have lost my virginity in worse ways.”

“I lost mine, too, don’t forget,” I point out huskily. “And now I’m being tossed aside. Funny, I’ve always thought it was supposed to happen the other way around.”

“Don’t be nasty,” she whispers.

“Nasty?” I answer roughly. “You’re running away from me, and you don’t want me to be nasty. You’ve got some fucking nerve…” I bite my tongue, turning around and swearing sharply.

“Look, Cameron…”

“No, you look!” I explode, spinning around and striding forward until we’re nose to nose. “I’m not going to let you do this, how about that?”

“It’s not your decision,” she stands her ground, but her body is trembling from the dire warning in my eyes. “You don’t get to decide.”

“Oh yeah? Well, as the man who was just buried inside of you, who just fucking saw stars because of the way you took me in like your life depended on it…I say differently,” I hiss, perversely enjoying the way her eyes widen at my bold words.

“You…you…” she sputters, and I smirk as she can’t find anything to say.

“Yeah, you think of something to say to that while you’re breaking bread with my family,” I whisper. “This isn’t over.”

“Yes,” she states crisply, jerking her arm away from me. “It is. And so are we.”

“Wanna bet?” I answer softly.

“Leave me alone,” she answers with a shaky sneer. “I’m going upstairs now. Don’t you dare say anything.”

“I’m not the one in denial!” I return as she turns and practically runs away. I stare after her, jaw clenched and eyes burning.

I’ll be damned if I give up.

[Applebylicious]

I almost forgot to drop this off. Thanks again, guys! All the nominees were outstanding, and the fact that you chose Cam as the best...it's hard to believe. But thank you. Dee and I are thrilled.