CAMILLA RENÉESATURDAY."Good Morning gorgeous."Jimmy is outstanding at fooling facial expressions or my dad and Dylan leaving as he enters are of little regard for him.Still, he sheathes his arms around my neck and clasps his lips against mine.Extra credits for confidence Jimmy. My dad could return any moment from now.I part my lips and let his tongue evade mine."Morning."I momble and he pulls away, invading the seat Dylan vacated minutes ago.We engage in small talk; I apologise for not telling him about Dylan. He smiles back and waves the topic off. That easily.****They toasted breakfast eggs and bacon served from the motel, my mother's cooking beats this any day, but I don't have a choice, so I bite it down along with the bile in my throat.I've never been seated at a more uneasy table for seven. Clinging glasses and forks are the only sound for ten minutes and it's excruciating. Dylan is

CAMILLA RENÉESUNDAY.My day in one word is—fast-paced. Jimmy and I moved around the city. Zoo. Ice cream. Park. Children. Kingston High stood closed because of the weekend. Funny how I didn't spend a waking second relishing it. My physical body dwelled beside Jimmy, but everything else was back at the motel. Back at last night. Back at his kiss. Back at him.Each time tugging more fiercely and swearing curse words. To who exactly? Dylan for kissing me? Myself for allowing him? Reciprocating? and then enjoying it? or my father for interrupting us? So many deeds in one night.I went directly to my room and fasten the door, my heart racing as I paced from edge to edge. Eventually, I slumped behind it and listened to the footsteps. I held my heart in my hand and watched him zone past me. Or my father? I didn't know.I lingered in that position, slept in that spot and woke up with an ache in my back.Then as the coward, I am, I t

CAMILLA RENÉETUESDAY.Over twelve hours have run by since Athena William's title was spoken into my ears. I haven't been able to form a mental picture ergo Dylan hadn't given away physical features.I may or may not have struggled not to search the web and then vacated the bed at three am to scribble a note to request more details on what she looked like. Okay fine. I did.I also prepared notes on further questions. I need to know; What did she do? How does he feel used? How did they break up? Does he still have her contact? Why is he still in love with her? Among other many questions?Then I scaled them in order of preference. All thirteen questions. Only then was I able to slumber. I placed my notebook between my fingers. If this is the surge I get from one patient, I can't wait to have sessions with more of them."We have a meeting for the project today. Maybe you and I can have our session there afterwards."—Dylan"Sure—"

DYLAN EMERTONTUESDAYLoad shedding. Relief. Inner peace. A strike able balance between my mind, body, and soul.That's how good it felt to open up about her. When I returned from the wedding, I kept fretting, although the kiss had awakened a fire inside of me; I craved to do more. Just not yet.My past will always tow me down to a dark, lonely, and quiet cell. I need to free myself. The shackles of Athena Williams had to be broken.And they are. They are because of Camilla. Just when I reckoned I couldn't love her less, she pushes the line a little further.I'm utterly smitten by her. It took years to say those words and I mean them now. I'm in love with Camilla Renée.I breathe sharply walking beside her in silence. What I would give in exchange for a confession. I lost it back there.So beautiful. So worship-able. At her feet, given the infinite pleasure of beholding her features."I love you."The words were on my mind yet stuck in my throat. I jerked back. I already made out with

CAMILLA RENÉE.THURSDAY.This is pungent. The setting. The outfits. Even the words used are hot. I'm not speaking completely about Dylan—sure he's standing out with that suit. Not the kind on Saturday—but an actual black suit vest, the hand-less jacket has come off his torso and hanging over a chair. He's not wearing a T-shirt, but a full-sleeved shirt. Tight. Sexy. So good. I can peak at the frames of his chest.Aside from Dylan, the entire exhibition is heated. Sizzling.Dylan spoke coherently, outgoing, with a little humour now and then. His role was to cite facts and evidence procured during the investigation. Seeing him say words like "Reconnaissance" does a lot to my lower parts. Words have always been this huge turn on. There's nothing sexier than a guy who's able to express himself using words. A guy who's not afraid to speak on exactly the things he feels."Perfection. Divine."I smile softly recurring his messages and the impact they had on me."Sincere Expression. Unintent