Pyke

Chapter 8

PYKE

For the first time, Kyland invites me to his apartment—the same apartment he’s sharing with Camila. Just the thought of her makes me edgy.

She turned me down again, twice in a row now. Okay, four times in a row.

She turned me down in a threesome. Honestly, that was a dick move. Secondly, when I met her at the coffee shop. Thirdly, she refused to take the phone that I bought for her. I’m not bribing her into accepting my last offer. I just feel guilty for lying. She didn’t take the bait when I offer her some cash. I can’t decide if I should be impressed or simply pissed off.

I must say, she’s different, but it makes me more determined to win her over. I’m a Hughes for a reason. Hughes never takes no for an answer. Everyone knows that—it runs in the blood.

Surprisingly, I miss her annoying big mouth. It’s been a week since the last time I saw her. I was expecting her to show up and tell me she finally decided to take my offer, but to my dismay, she didn’t. She’s so stubborn and difficult.

I follow Kyland to their small but welcoming living room.

Camila’s eyes grow big when she sees me. She immediately stands up, walking in my direction. Undoubtedly, she’s not expecting me to come with Kyland—I can see the glint of surprise in her eyes.

My heart thuds as she gets closer. This woman is a hot vixen, I admit that. It’s annoying that there is something in me ignites—the excitement just upon hearing her name because this shouldn’t have happened. She’s off-limits to someone like me.

The plan, Pyke! My stupid brain reminds me.

My lips spread into a mischievous grin, but Camila is Camila, instead of saying hi, she welcomes me with a scowl.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Wow, you must be lost. Pyke Kennan Hughes, it’s not safe for you to be here in this kind of neighborhood. There are too many gangsters lurking around. They can assault you, steal your car, or worse kidnap you for ransom. I can show your way out.”

My smile grows even wider. She amazes me, or is it her clue to talk with me alone? Hmm, interesting.

“Sure,” I say, gesturing to their door. I don’t think Kyland will risk her safety choosing this apartment if they have a dangerous neighborhood, though their two-bedroom apartment is located on the lower east side of New York, I know Kyland when it comes to her.

“Save the sarcasm, Cam. We already talked about this many times. Be nice to Hughes, and I invited him to come over,” Kyland interjects.

“It’s okay, man. I want her to show me around. If you don’t mind,” I tell him.

He nods subtly. “Okay, bring us some pizzas,”

“Sure, any preferred toppings?” I ask. That’s when I notice Cam is not alone.

“Oh, hey girls,” I greet them, waving at the two girls sitting on the upholstered brown couch. They’re attractive, but nothing compares to my cantankerous.

Shit! I just claim her mine.

“I’m Pyke.” I extend my hand. A slender with chin bob cut dark hair shakes my hand. She smiles in a flirtatious, but friendly way, but I have my eyes already on someone else.

“I’m Megan, Cam’s best friend.”

“I’m Cam-T’s friend, too.”

Her dark brow arches. “Cam-T?”

Camila groans beside me.

“Nice to finally meet the infamous Pyke in person,” the tall blonde with hourglass figure says with sarcasm. Her remark tells she knows something about me, and she’ not impressed.

“And you are?” I ask, offering my hand.

“The best friend, Bianca.” She walks closer and barely shakes my hand like I have a disgusting infectious disease.

“Did we—?” I ask cautiously.

Kyland clears his throat louder than necessary. Okay, I get it, man.

“Just kidding,” I say amicably.

“Do you want to join us, guys?” I ask, hoping they will say no.

“You guys can go,” Kyland says.

“Let’s go, babe,” I tell Camila who shoots me a glare in response.

“Be right back, guys.”

“Take care, Cam,” the best friend says more like a warning.

***

“What are you doing?” she asks firmly as soon as we get inside my car—she doesn’t beat around the bush.

“No hi and good to see you again?” I don’t care if she’s angry for showing up without a warning. I went with Kyland and not to see her. Okay, that’s bullshit. She’s one of the reasons why I go with Kyland.

“If you’re scared that I will tell your cousin about my offer, you have my word. Trust me, I will not tell a soul.” I steal glances at her as I pull my car out to the driveway.

She’s breathing heavily—she’s not so happy to see me unannounced.

“I still don’t get why do you want me to be your female model. You can just hire a professional who has experience in doing such things like that.”

“I still want you and not them. I don’t care about the experience.” I like you, don’t you get that? “It’s only a one-time photo shoot, Camila.”

“Why did you offer me a large amount of cash then?”

I look at her longer when the traffic light turns red. She’s so beautiful than ever with a makeup-free face. The freckles scattering around her nose bridge make looks her fresh and enticing. Her brown eyes are filled with intensity and questions. The more I look at her, the more I’m drowning in her beauty. I heard from Kyland that her mom is half Latina and half American. My mom is half Italian and half American, but I didn’t get Mom’s color.

When is she going to genuinely smile at me? She scowled most of the time.

“It’s not a large amount. I can give you more if that will make you agree.”

Her head snaps at my side, glaring. “I don’t know if either to feel insulted or flattered. No doubt, you came from money, but you can’t buy me for that shoot. Find someone else who is comfortable with you.

I’m not the one you’re looking for.”

My hands tightly grip the steering wheel. I swallow the lump in my throat. I break my gaze from her and just focus on the traffic light that will change into a green anytime soon. I try hard controlling the anger that wraps around my system because I feel a loser and desperate, and to be honest, I am desperate. And I find this is more than just a bet.

I hate rejection. I’m used to getting whatever I want. I work hard for it, but this woman challenges me more each day—more than what my father did to me. I have only less than three weeks to execute my plan—I’m definitely running out of time.

“If I will offer you less would you take it?” I ask quietly.

“Still no.”

“A job?”

She looks at me intently. “A job?”

“Yeah, a job, work, position.”

“I know what job means, Pyke. I’ll think about it.”

I chuckle, glancing at her, “What is your dream job, Camila?” I ask with sincerity.

“I want to design a car, either exterior or interior, but I need a job even as a salesperson right now.” Ah, desperate, Camila.

“I will not allow you to work as a salesperson.”

Her brows meet.

Shit! I sound like an overprotective and possessive boyfriend.

“I mean why would you take a job as a salesperson if you have a better opportunity to work as a designer?” Kyland mentioned that Camila just graduated from college with automotive design.

“I’ve been searching for jobs. I passed tons of resumes but none of them have replied to me because I don’t have experience.” She desperately needs a job I get that, but I can’t let her be a salesperson. Men will take her instead of a car.

Fuck! I can’t imagine her flirting with men. Sick curls inside my stomach.

“I have connections, Camila, but how can I contact you if you don’t have a phone?” My inner self celebrates. Good move, Pyke!

“I have a phone at home.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. She’s so stubborn. I open the glove compartment and grab the box, handing it to her.

“Take it. That’s for you, without a hidden agenda,” I tell her. “And don’t tell me you can’t take it or you will pay me later. Consider that as a gift.”

We arrive at the pizzeria. I park my car and look at her checking out the box.

Her lips curve into a smile then wider until it reaches into a full grin. Fuck me if she’s not stunning. I don’t realize I’m smiling until my facial muscles ache.

“You should smile more often. You’re beautiful.” I open my door not waiting for her reply. I might not like what she’s going to say back.

I walk to her side to open her door, but she’s already getting out. I never did like this before for anyone, only for Mom and my cousins, but I don’t know why I’m doing this and suddenly become a gentleman.

“Thanks,” she mutters.

“For the door?”

She looks up at me. “Both?”

I can’t contain my smile anymore. My heartbeat never calms a little bit, and it continues to freak me out.

“You’re welcome.” I pushed the door open for her. Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

The smell of dough, herbs, and spices makes my mouth water, adding to that are the smell of melted cheese, fresh tomato sauce, basil, and olives. My stomach almost grumbles.

I scan the Italian inspired room for us to find an empty booth. We can get something to munch on while waiting for our pizza to be done. My hand instantly places on her back before my brain can process what I am doing. I feel my fingers tingle at the contact. The sensations send right to my aching cock. I groan internally. Not right now, dude. Please, not now.

“Let’s take a seat here,” I tell her when we find a table for four. She immediately grabs a chair—the same chair I have my hand on. My hand touches hers, and as cliché, as it sounds my body reacts to our skin contact.

She freezes and gasps enough that I can hear. Instantly, my body heats at the boiling point.

I pull my hand back. “I’m sorry.” I even clear my throat as it gets raspy.

“It’s okay,” she mumbles, taking a sit.

“Pyke!”