Cami gasps, pushing hard against my chest, and I release her. She sneers and takes off to her room, slamming the door behind her.
I can’t help laughing as I make my way to the kitchen to clean up the mess. She has no idea what she’s in for if she thinks I’m just another person who’ll give in to her demands with the snap of her fingers. Granted, I want to fuck her senseless until we’re both panting, but I’m not giving in that easily. If she wants me, she’s going to have to work for it.
After everything is cleaned, I take Bruno outside for his daily exercise, then jump in the shower. I can’t wipe the grin off my dopey face when I relive Cami’s lips on me. That image will forever be ingrained in my mind no matter what. It’s a fantasy I’ve had since I was a teenager, and as soon as it became a reality, it was programmed into my eternal memory.
I reply to emails and take a couple of video calls to appease my boss, but it’s a waste of time, considering nothing’s changed in the past few days. I’m keeping in contact with my clients and trying to prove myself, but I refuse to be annoying and pushy when so many jobs have been furloughed, and people have been laid off. I’m fortunate I can do some of my work from home and still earn a paycheck, so I’m not taking that for granted, but I’m also empathic.
I can put people first and be good at my job, regardless of what my supervisor thinks.
Checking my phone, I notice a missed call from Ryan and immediately worry. I return it, but he doesn’t answer, so I text him instead.
Elijah: Sorry I missed your call. I was on a conference call. Everything okay?
Ten minutes later, he finally responds.
Ryan: As much as it can be, I suppose. Shit is freaking crazy here. Just checking on you guys. Cameron said you had an asthma attack yesterday. Are you alright?
I’m surprised Cami told him or that she’s talking about me to him period. I’m tempted to ask if she mentioned the panic attack she had the other day, but I won’t air her business in case she doesn’t want him to know.
Elijah: I’m fine. Freaked her out, though. She nearly nose-dived the concrete running to get my inhaler.
Ryan: She would’ve had a royal meltdown if that had happened.
Elijah: Trust me, I saw a glimpse of that while she changed the smoke detector battery.
Ryan: You mean you got her to actually help? What kind of spell did you cast on my sister?
I’m tempted to fuck with him and tell him what else I got her to do, but I don’t need him thinking I’m using her because I’m not. I also don’t want a brotherly speech from him about not hurting her. He knew how much I crushed on her in high school, but he has no idea it never stopped.
Elijah: It’s the quarantine, man. She even loaded the dishwasher this morning.
Ryan: Shit. I think she’s cracked.
Elijah: Haha…wouldn’t surprise me. She’s gonna have a hard lesson in doing laundry soon.
I chuckle to myself because I’m almost certain she’s gonna need to wash her clothes in a few days.
Ryan: Just don’t let her near the stove. She’ll burn down the cabin, and then you’ll both be homeless or recovering in the burn unit.
Elijah: Considering she doesn’t know how to turn it on, I’m not too worried. I’ve been cooking to prevent any hazards.
I feel guilty talking shit about Cami to her brother, but if I start throwing out compliments, he’ll grow suspicious.
Ryan: Good. I wouldn’t be surprised if this shit lasts for months, so get comfortable.
I’m torn on how I feel about that. Honestly, I don’t mind being away from the city, especially with Cami here, but the consequences of an epidemic are terrifying. What long-term effects will it have on the people and our economy? Only time will tell.
Elijah: Please be safe. I worry about you.
Ryan: I’m doing my best with what we’ve got. Taking all the precautions I can.
Ryan: I gotta run. Love you, man. Take care over there, okay?
Elijah: Will do! Stay safe!
I set my phone down and say a quick prayer for my best friend and all the frontline workers. I’ve always looked up to him, but now even more. Ryan’s my hero.
Though I read the news every morning before I get out of bed, I only allow myself ten minutes because the government’s handling of this is a mess. No one can agree on anything, and it’s like watching toddlers fighting over toys. Watching the press conferences or reading the briefings only spike my anxiety and nerves, and if there’s anything I can control during this time, it’s how much outside noise I allow in while keeping my ass at home.
Deciding I need a break and to leave this room, I head downstairs with Bruno, plop on the couch, and click on Netflix. I’m in the mood for something that’ll keep me interested for a few hours, so I end up clicking on an original documentary about a guy who owns a tiger zoo and needs a different hairdresser. Within thirty minutes, I’ve asked myself what the fuck at least a dozen times.
“This guy is bat-shit crazy,” I mutter after finishing the second episode. It’s a train wreck, but I can’t look away and end up clicking on the third episode.
“Who’s bat-shit crazy?”
I look over my shoulder and see Cami holding her cat as she walks toward me.
“This redneck with a bleached mullet,” I explain. She’s quieter than usual and looks nervous. “What are you doing down here?” I assumed she’d stay in her room the rest of the night, doing homework
