The Two of Us (Love in Isolation Book 1) Read online

  Cameron St. James is the epitome of perfection—gorgeous, smart, and an heiress.

  Unfortunately, she knows it too.

  A girl like her would never give a guy like me—lower class, wage-earning real estate agent—the time of the day. Though a decade ago, she looked at me like I hung the moon, and it ended as quickly as it started.

  “I was about to ask you the same.” Closing the fridge door, I walk over to pick up the statue that miraculously didn’t shatter and set it on the island. My attention is quickly brought to Bruno who’s chasing the cat. “Bruno! Come.”

  He immediately stops, rushes over, then sits in front of me and begs for a treat. He’s a one hundred pound Doberman who’s as tall as I am when he stands.

  “Chanel!” Cami runs to her butt ass ugly hairless cat. She grabs her and holds it tightly. My eyes lower to her chest as her tank top slides down, nearly revealing everything.

  Swallowing hard, I avert my gaze. “Uh, Cami…you might—”

  “You need to leave,” she snaps before I can continue. “How’d you get in? The alarm is on and active.”

  “Ryan said I could stay here,” I explain. Her brother is my best friend and gave me the keys and security codes. “Told me to make myself at home, but failed to mention you’d be here too.”

  “I haven’t had the chance to talk to him yet,” she says. “But it doesn’t matter because you’re not staying.”

  “Yes, I am,” I argue. We’re in the middle of a goddamn pandemic, and as New York City is the epicenter of it, it’s the last place I want to be right now. Not to mention, my three dumbass roommates aren’t taking it seriously and will be exposed any day now because they’re not abiding by the CDC guidelines and staying the fuck inside. All of them can work from home, but they are still going out like nothing has happened. “The cabin is plenty big enough for the both of us.”

  “Chanel, stop,” she scolds. The hairless rat is trying to wiggle free from her grasp. Bruno just wants to play and keeping him away from Chanel will be difficult.

  “Bruno, heel,” I command, but he’s not always the best listener. I swear he gets way too hyper around other people.

  “Big or not, my boyfriend, Zane, is coming tomorrow.”

  “Alright, so I’ll stay in my area, and you stay in yours. Problem solved.” I grab my duffel bag, then step around the gigantic kitchen island.

  “Like hell it is! You can’t. I’m already here and made plans.” She pouts, and it’s stupidly adorable. Cami is used to getting her way, but she won’t this time. I’m not going anywhere.

  “Watch me.” I flash her a toothy grin on my way toward the staircase. “I’m guessing you took the master?” I ask over my shoulder, then continue before she responds, “I’ll take one of the guest rooms on the second floor, so you won’t even know I’m here.”

  “I doubt it,” she mutters.

  Bruno walks behind me, and she squeals when he gets too close. “Don’t worry, he only bites entitled New York princesses.”

  “Funny.”

  “It’s called having a sense of humor, Cami. Did you lose yours, or is it still up your ass along with that stick that’s been stuck there since we were teens?”

  “You know, I could call the cops and have them remove you.”

  “Good luck with that. We’re in a national lockdown, and they’re only responding to life or death calls, so in this case, they wouldn’t come to your rescue.” I throw her a wink, then take the steps two at a time with Bruno next to me. Of course, I’m agitating her on purpose, but if I know Cameron St. James as well as I think I do, she’s about to have a rich-girl tantrum.

  “You better keep that stupid mutt away from my cat!” she screams as I reach the second floor. “Or I’ll feed him to the mountain lions!”

  I snort, shaking my head at her dramatics. Bruno won’t hurt her naked cat, but he’ll have fun taunting them both in the process. And so will I.

  Once I walk inside the spare room that Ryan typically uses when he stays here, I set my stuff on the bed and look around. It’s bigger than my entire apartment, and sadly, I’m not even exaggerating. There’s a bathroom down the hall, and the jet tub alone cost more than a year’s worth of my rent.

  I sit and look around. Without knowing, you’d never suspect Ryan is a St. James. He’s two years older than me and an ER doctor in the city. While doing his residency, he’s smack-dab in the center of this epidemic, and that scares the shit out of me. Ryan’s humble and loyal to a fault and will work as long as he needs to fight this and save his patients.

  Being his best friend growing up, I know all about Cameron and their family’s billion-dollar fashion company. I’m from a completely different world, and the only reason we met is because my mother was their housekeeper for years. When the sitter canceled at the last minute, she’d take me and my little sister, Ava, with her, and though we promised to stay hidden and quiet, the moment Ryan saw us, he encouraged us to play with him. I was ten years old when he showed me that money wasn’t as important as kindness and compassion. A lesson the rest of his family has yet to learn.

  Clara St. James didn’t approve of our friendship at first but warmed up to the idea. Her husband, Bradford, was never around to be with his son, and Ryan needed a real friend because he hated his uppity private school classmates. After a while, Clara approved for my mother to bring Ava and me along. Ryan and I developed a strong bond that’s lasted for fourteen years.

  Cami was eight at the time and wasn’t allowed to play with us—Ryan’s rules. He couldn’t stand his annoying little sister, but for some reason, he didn’t mind Ava. Probably because she wasn’t a stuck-up sass machine, but I think that’s why she never wanted to play with Cami either. They were the same age but had nothing in common. As time went on, Cami grew on me, and the four of us hung out and played. It was the first time I felt included in a group.

  But that was ages ago, and I’m not that boy who easily gets his feelings hurt anymore.

  My mother saved as much money as she could and made sure we didn’t go without even though she had nothing. I never knew my dad but didn’t care much about it based on the stories my mother told me about him. When I met Ryan, he opened up and talked about how dysfunctional his family was too, which made me feel not so alone. He was the older brother I always wanted and still is.

  I keep Bruno in the bedroom and head back to my rental car to grab the rest of the items I brought. Since I take the subway to the office, owning a car in the city is unnecessary. Parking’s a bitch and expensive, but I got my license for random road trips.

  After popping the trunk, I grab as many bags as I can. I brought enough perishables, medicine, drinks, cleaning supplies, and toilet paper to last for weeks. Of course, that was before I knew other people were staying at the cabin, so it might not last that long.

  My goal is to stay quarantined for at least a month before I have to make a trip to the store. Last weekend, my roommates were out partying and could’ve infected me. It’s why I had to get the hell out of there as fast as I could. Cami’s a student at NYU, and it only shut down yesterday, which means she was around dozens of people too. So it’s best we steer clear of each other, which shouldn’t be an issue. This place is massive.

  I have plenty of work and reading to keep me busy. Between that and taking Bruno out for walks and playtime, there’s no reason to be around Cami and her tool bag boyfriend.

  “What are you doing?”

  She’s so loud that I nearly jump out of my skin. “Jesus.” I groan, shaking my head as I continue to the kitchen and set the bags down. “What’s it look like?”

  “Looks like you’re doing the opposite of leaving.”

  “Very good. You’re so observant.” Pulling the items out of the bags, I start cleaning them with disinfectant wipes, then look over at her. “Why do you care if I’m here? You’ve done an incredible job of ignoring me for years. So, it shouldn’t be a problem for you now. Right?”

  She cros
ses her arms, tilts her head, and squints at me. “Why do you insist on always being an asshole? Is it ingrained into your DNA or something? Or do you just enjoy pissing people off?”

  I hold back a smirk because I’m getting to her as much as she used to get to me. “Nah. Just you, princess.”

  Cami rolls her eyes, and her arms fall to her side. She’s still wearing next to nothing, but I’m sure she doesn’t care. She’s used to people gawking.

  “I already stocked the fridge,” she says after I open it and try to make room.

  “Yeah, I see that.” I move her stuff around and shove mine in. “Except this shit will go bad in just a few days. Unless you plan on growing a garden in the middle of winter, you’ll be out of food in a week.”

  “I have plenty of frozen meals. And I can make a grocery order and have it delivered,” she states matter-of-factly.

  “Out here? Not likely.” I grab the boxed food and put it in the pantry. “Not to mention, they’re all booked out two weeks or more with the increased demand.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “Guess I didn’t think about that.”

  “Do you even know how to cook?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Cameron St. James can’t boil water. She may be brilliant in school, but she’s not common sense smart. I can’t even place the blame on her for it, though, because it’s not entirely her fault. Unless Cameron was interested or invested in something, she didn’t care to learn more, and her parents never forced her to do anything for herself. It’s common knowledge that she’ll take over their family business, and she’ll have staff who’ll do her dirty work while she keeps it afloat.

  Cami blinks and nervously shuffles her feet. “Well…not really. But it’s not like I was going to bring a chef to isolate with me. We’ll figure it out.”

  “I take it Zaney boy can’t cook either?” I chuckle as I finish putting everything up.

  “We never have to.” She shrugs unapologetically about her privileged life. “It can’t be that hard.”

  I’m unable to hold back my laughter this time, and she scowls. I’m well aware of what Cami’s lifestyle includes—gourmet chefs, housekeepers, drivers, family jets, personal shoppers, extravagant everything. She’ll never know the sick feeling of not being able to pay bills while barely scraping by.

  “You’re going to either burn the house down, burn yourself, or starve. The virus isn’t even your biggest threat. It’s your inability to feed yourself.”

  “Do you always have to be such a dick?” she scolds with her hands on her hips. “Are you capable of being anything other than a condescending ass bag?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Are you able to determine the difference between sarcasm and country club asshole traits? I’ll give you a guess which one your boyfriend is,” I say smugly. “And I’m ninety-nine point nine percent positive you’re not with him for his great personality.” Zane Vandenberg is the equivalent of a thirteen-year-old Justin Bieber who was just handed millions of dollars. His maturity level is the same, too.

  “Ugh!” She throws up her arms, then stomps away.

  “You need to get a sense of humor, Cami!” I shout through my laughter. “You’d think with all your billions, you could at least buy one! Maybe I can order you one and pay for overnight shipping?”

  “Go to hell, Elijah!” she screams from the staircase.

  “Don’t worry, I’m already there!” I yell back. Moments later, her bedroom door slams with a loud bang.

  “Well, this is gonna be fun,” I mutter to myself.

  I have no idea how long this crisis will last, but Cameron St. James may kill me before it’s over.

  Chapter Three

  CAMERON

  DAY 2

  I wake up to the sun streaming through the window and quickly remember I’m at the cabin with Eli.

  There’s no way I’m spending weeks, possibly months, with him. Since we were teenagers, he’s lived to torment me. Only God knows why my brother is friends with him, but if I had to guess, it’s to piss me off.

  I considered Elijah Ross a friend once. When his hormones turned him into the asshole of the century, he became my number-one enemy instead.

  The only thing that lifts my spirits is knowing Zane arrives today. I’m not worried about being around him every minute of our isolation because of how we feel about each other. After graduation, he’ll propose, and our engagement and wedding will be the event of the decade. The St. James and Vandenberg marriage will make the front page of every paper and magazine.

  We’re already the perfect power couple, and the media loves sharing photographs of us together.

  Zane and I ended up in all the same business classes together and inevitably formed a relationship. When we started dating my second year of college, our parents were over the moon and have hinted about us getting married for years.

  Deciding to get out of bed, I head to the bathroom and clean myself up before making my way downstairs. Before going down the second staircase, I stop and listen closely. When I don’t hear anything, I tiptoe into the kitchen. Hopefully, that means Eli’s still sleeping or is staying in his room away from me.

  “C’mon, Chanel. Breakfast time,” I say quietly with her following me. She rubs against my leg as she prances along the hardwood floor.

  “Why are we whispering?”

  Spinning around, I smack right into Eli’s broad chest. When I stumble against him, he grabs my arms and steadies me. Once it’s obvious I won’t fall on my ass, he releases me with a smirk.

  “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on people!” I scold and playfully slap him. Putting space between us, I then realize he’s shirtless. His shaggy, dark hair is pulled back and sweat drips down his neck. Stupidly, I lower my gaze and notice his ripped abs and that sexy V that leads below his workout shorts.

  The clearing of his throat brings my eyes back to his. “You always this uptight in the morning?”

  “Only when creeps refuse to leave my house,” I retort, pissed he caught me staring. I don’t want him thinking I was drooling, but it’s hard not to when he’s half-dressed and looks more muscular than I remember.

  Eli pops a brow with an amused grin on his face. “You get that a lot?”

  Groaning, I walk to the fridge and grab what I need. I twist the cap off Chanel’s water, then pour it into her dish.

  “Did you seriously just use a ten-dollar bottle of water for a cat?”

  Technically speaking, it’s more like thirteen dollars, but I don’t give him more ammunition to taunt me. He already has enough in his arsenal.

  “Cat has expensive taste just like her owner.” He cackles.

  “Why are you still here?” I ask, then get up to grab her cat food. “You need a shower.”

  “Thanks for noticing. I was about to before I saw you trying to Tom Cruise your way into the kitchen.”

  Rolling my eyes, I proceed to feed Chanel. If he thinks her water is high maintenance, he’d probably burst a blood vessel at her custom-made organic cat food. She purrs and immediately rushes over.

  “Why are you sweating anyway?” It’s in the thirties outside, so running shirtless outside isn’t an option.

  “Wanted to work out before starting this beautiful first day of quarantine with you.” He beams, furthering my irritation.

  “You’re taking the whole make yourself at home thing to the next level.” I grunt that he used the home gym that my mother insisted on building in the basement. Not sure why she bothered, considering she visits once a year, and it’s never to work out.

  “And for my next trick, I’m going to cook breakfast.” He flicks his fingers in the air, mimicking a magician. Then he grabs a pan and sets it on the stovetop. “Or is that off-limits, too?”

  “At this rate, I’d expect nothing less.” I force a smile, push off the counter, and grab a mug from the cabinet.

  “I’m making an omelet. Would you like one?” he asks, digging into the fridge as I mess with the espresso machine.

  I raise an
eyebrow. “Depends. Will it be poisoned?”

  “If by poisoned, you mean it won’t be some fake meat bullshit, then yes. But it’ll taste heavenly.” He whips eggs in a bowl, and considering my options are cereal or a granola bar, I contemplate it. Then on cue, my stomach roars and grumbles loudly.

  “Fine, but at least use the low-fat cheese in mine.”

  He snorts. Fucking snorts, then laughs. “Whatever you need to make yourself feel better.”

  “What the hell does that mean? Do you have to make a comment about everything I say?” I shake my head.

  “Only when you say things like low-fat cheese. Sounds gross and would ruin my masterpiece.” He grabs more ingredients from the fridge. “If you’re going to survive being in a house with me for God knows how long, you’re gonna have to loosen up.”

  “Or you could just be a decent human and stop antagonizing me every second?” I push buttons on the espresso maker, and it starts grinding the beans. Thank goodness. I can’t deal with him much longer without caffeine.

  “But bothering you is the only thing on my to-do list today.” He flashes a devilish smirk.

  Groaning, I open the silverware drawer, grab a spoon, then slam it closed.

  “C’mon, Cami. You can’t be this wound up all the time. Let your hair down and relax a little.”

  “Easy for you to say. You don’t have paparazzi following you everywhere. If I’m bloated one day, pregnancy rumors are blasted the next week. If I yell for them to stop following me, they say I’m on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.”

  “Sounds like you can’t win either way, so why bother? Just be you, and they’ll get bored.”

  I shoot him a death glare. “Are you inferring that I’m boring?” Turning away, I grab the sugar-free creamer, and when I spin around, Eli’s standing in front of me so I can’t move.