The Pursuit of Camila Cabello

Chapter Eight: Surprise Boobs!

The sound of the doorbell ringing woke Lauren up. Her blinds were open and light was pooling in from the window. It hit her exposed back, warming her to her bones. Unfortunately, she couldn't enjoy the warmth because of the skull-splitting headache she found herself nursing.

Thinking someone else would answer the door, Lauren tried to drift off to sleep. Then the doorbell rang again. Then for a second time. A third. A forth.

Finally, a fed-up Lauren threw the covers off of her and marched down the stairs. Whichever asshole was lurking behind the door was about to get their head bitten off by her. She didn't even stop herself when the room began to swing.

Lauren ripped the door open and before she can snarl out the words, she recognised the asshole.

Camila stood in front of her, basically perfect in everyday, and wore an unimpressed expression. One of her eyebrows were raised and her lips were pursed as she eyed Lauren. Her face said, "Really, Lauren. You were going to yell at me?"

"Oh, hey," Lauren said, her face softening completely, "it's you."

Camila didn't answer, however, because she was suddenly looking at Lauren as if she was a monster. Well, not so much Lauren as she was below Lauren's face. Looking down, Lauren found herself blushing as red as a tomato. In her haste to sleep last name, Lauren must've stripped off her dress and face-planted into her bed. She was sporting her bike shorts and nothing else.

"Naked," Camila breathed out, "You're naked."

Immediately, Lauren threw her arms across her bare breasts and said, "Um, go wait in the kitchen, I'm gonna - um - change, I'm gonna—"

"Just go!" Camila said, averting her eyes and waving Lauren away.

Lauren bolted up the stairs, shut her bedroom door behind her and leaned against it.

That was absolutely mortifying. Lauren was used to coming home from parties, crashing in motel rooms alone, stripping and passing out in bed. Apparently she had forgotten that she was at home as she paraded around in the near-nude.

Imagine if that hadn't been Camila, who had already seen her in less. Imagine her poor, sweet grandmother had decided to visit, only to find her naked grandchild welcoming her in.

A couple of minutes later, Lauren waltzed downstairs wearing a large hoodie and boxers, toothbrush in mouth. She found Camila sitting on one of the kitchen stools as she fiddled with her phone. The light was hitting her from the back and Lauren thought she looked absolutely radiant.

"At least you're clothed this time." Camila quipped, "Do you usually go around topless or am I just a lucky gal?"

"Very funny, Cabello." Lauren said as she grabbed a bottle of aspirin from the top cabinets. She leaned over and stole Camila's glass of water. She spat out the toothpaste, rinsed with said water before washing down the pills with it.

"You went out drinking again?" Camila asked, the frown on her face prominent. Lauren hummed in response as she put everything back. Camila, as beautiful as she was, was far too bright for Lauren's eyes at the moment.

"I really wish you wouldn't," Camila said, "I know that you have to keep up your image as a rockstar but you don't have to drink every time you hit up a club."

Lauren scoffed, saying, "I don't do it for my image: I do it to forget."

Camila narrowed her eyes at her, saying, "Mama always told me 'never drink angry, it ruins the drink.'"