Never Say Never Rachael Sommers (story read aloud txt) 📖

always seemed to know when Camila was lying. When the server brought a fresh glass of scotch, Camila quickly brought the glass to her lips.

“You do. That’s why she’s such a touchy subject!” Jenny smirked, pleased with herself for uncovering Camila’s secret.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel anyway,” Camila said, tapping her fingers against her glass, “because like I said, nothing’s going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“I already told you.”

“Age is just a number, and I don’t see why dating her would mean she can’t look after your kid anymore.”

“And when it ends?” Camila asked, because it always did. “What then, hmm? I’m out of a nanny and a girlfriend, and my son will be wrecked.”

“You don’t know that it will end.”

“Yes, I do,” Camila said fiercely, her jaw clenched. “She’s young and naïve, and I would destroy her like I do everyone else.”

“Camila…”

“Don’t.” She held up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Jenny. I mean it.”

Jenny looked like she might not drop it, then she nodded, draining her drink and waving down the server. “We’d like two piña coladas, please,” Jenny said, and Camila glared when the drink was set in front of her.

Camila would get her back with the next round. She studied the menu, trying to decide what Jenny would detest the most, and pushed all thoughts of Emily from her mind.

* * *

The sound of Camila’s key in the lock at ten after eleven awoke Emily from where she had been napping on the couch.

She waited, but when the door didn’t open, she went to investigate. She saw Camila through the spyhole, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth and a frown on her face as she tried and failed to unlock the door.

“Having trouble?” Emily asked, pulling open the door and catching Camila by the arm as she stumbled through the entry. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” But Camila’s words were slurred, and Emily could smell alcohol on her breath as she stepped inside, swaying as she kicked off her shoes. She hovered, ready to catch Camila if she fell. Even drunk, she looked amazing, the tight black dress hugging her in all the right places. Emily’s breath caught in her throat, and when she looked away, she saw Camila burned onto her eyelids every time she blinked.

“I’ll get you some water.” Emily hurried to the kitchen to fill a glass, and when she turned around, Camila was watching her, her eyes sharp despite her drunken state.

“Why are you helping me?” Camila’s voice was quiet, uncertain. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I want to make sure that you’re safe because Jaime needs his mom.” It wasn’t the only reason, but it was the truth.

“He’s in bed?”

“Has been since eight,” Emily said. “He was as perfect as always.”

Camila disappeared down the hall to see for herself, the glass of water in one hand. She returned and set her empty glass on the breakfast bar, surprised to find Emily still in her kitchen.

“Why are you still here?”

Certainly Camila didn’t mean that in a bad way—she sounded merely curious, but it still made Emily bristle, made her feel defensive, and her back straightened as she struggled to maintain her composure.

“I told you. So I know you’re safe.”

“Well, here I am, safe and sound in my own home.” Camila cocked her hand on her hip and quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not in any immediate danger, and yet you’re still here.”

“Because I care about you, Camila, okay?” The words burst out of her, and she lowered her voice so as not to wake the sleeping child down the hall. “I’m sorry if that’s unprofessional.” She spat out the word, desperately trying to control her erupting emotions, but it had been so hard around Camila for the past two weeks that the words came spilling out of her, all her pain and anger. “I’m sorry that I give a shit. I wish I didn’t—then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

Camila blinked, silenced for once. Emily worried that she had said too much, but with the amount Camila had drunk tonight, she doubted she would remember any of this in the morning, and that was her only salvation.

“I…I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Camila whispered. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

This was wrong, Emily thought. They shouldn’t be having this conversation, not when Camila was drunk, not when she had no inhibitions, not when she might say things that she wouldn’t dare say if she were sober.

“It’s okay,” Emily said, though it wasn’t true, and the words stuck in her throat because she didn’t mean them, and Camila didn’t seem to think so either, from the way she shook her head, but she needed to say something, needed to stop this, needed to get out the door before Camila said something she might regret.

“It’s not.” Camila’s voice was soft, her eyes tortured, and if the breakfast bar weren’t between them, Emily would wrap Camila in her arms to soothe her. “It’s not, but I didn’t know what else to do. I had to push you away because if I didn’t I’d end up—”

“Stop.” Emily held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it.” But God, she did, she wanted to know so badly what Camila was going to say. The unspoken words were going to haunt her, drive her insane with the possibility, but it felt dishonest to let her continue when she wasn’t sober. “And I’m going to go,” she finished. She refilled Camila’s glass with water and pressed a box of Advil into her hands. “Take these before bed, okay? It’ll help with the hangover.”

She slipped away before Camila could say anything else, before she could try to stop her, and she slumped against the wall of the elevator, her head in her hands, Camila’s words still ringing in her ears.

Chapter 15

Camila woke up with a killer hangover.

She groaned, pulling the covers up to hide for a few more minutes before facing the