22. Finally, they talk about it.

Their meeting didn't have to be arranged by Freddie - or any assistant producer.

It wasn't possible for Camryn to act like nothing happened when it did.

Eventually, her and Rocco were going to see each other again. It was inevitable, unavoidable and needed to be addressed.

She wondered if he remembered what he did.

It was voluntary - the invitation to Presto Espresso - more so on Camryn's end after she'd skimmed through the packet with important names, numbers, schedules, and addresses listed. Basically, it was their directory and One Way In's holy grail.

She was on her way out, anyways, to a grab a coffee. Might as well ask him to join.

His response was short, leaving no room for the imagination to run wild. For all Camryn knew, the outing would end in verbal warfare. That's what she was accustomed to when it came to any interaction with him.

Three days had passed since their juicy encounter.

Bryson and Jay were back in Malibu after their weekend trip to NYC to do some interviews as well as be guest speakers on a few notable podcasts.

Bryson had left the ball in Camryn's court the moment he messaged her saying he couldn't stop thinking about her, but was ignored and left of Read.

It was a beautiful day to get clarity; a beautiful day for another layer, of herself she didn't know she had, to be pulled back.

Camryn continued to correspond with Diana via email in hopes of negotiating an extended deadline. Four weeks was way too soon. Of course, she would get the job done and submit nothing short of exceptional, but what was the point of being forced to do this assignment when the information she wanted to discuss in her article could've been gathered, realistically, through conducted sit-downs?

She was waiting to have that "aha" moment when it all clicked; when it finally came together. Because it was bound too. If she chose to walk away - which wasn't feasible due to legal contracts she signed before filming - she'd be walking away, already, with more than what she bargained for. That, alone, said a lot. She needed more time. Every piece of the subject itself needed the credit it deserved. Never, in a million years, would she think of writing about these people, her fellow cast mates, in a way that they craved to be seen all along. From the beginning, she was ready to see the bad in them and reveal it to their beloved fans, but she changed her mind and wanted to write the article from a different perspective - one she was finally relating to. The only problem was, if it didn't ruin, or make them crumble to stones, Diana didn't want it. But that was just too damn bad.

While she was waiting for Rocco at the cafe, she thought about what she had done earlier that morning. She deleted every word she had typed thus far. She would start from scratch, and if Diana didn't approve, which she definitely wouldn't, well, Diana could shove it up her ass.

"Surprised to see anything other than a Vodka Redbull in your hand."

Rocco had arrived with a coffee of his own that he'd gotten at Presto Espresso's competitor just down the block. It was so like him.

"Likewise." She returned, unenthused. Camryn didn't know how to act.

He barely smirked as he took a seat across from her.

It was sunny.

Why did she feel like it was about to storm?

"I'm not staying long." Rocco said in a normal tone, for once.

"Thank God." Camryn couldn't help but smile, which made him smile.

That was unforeseen.

Either of them didn't know who should dive into the conversation first.

It was truly amazing how comfortable Camryn was getting to cameras always being around her as she looked to her left to see Brynn - a nice woman her age that she had the pleasure of talking to here and there - filming her. These people - the crew - were becoming, almost, like family.

"I asked you to meet me here because..."

It was difficult to get the words out.

She stared at him for a split second longer before glancing at the few who sat at tables near them, acting as if cameras weren't in the establishment whatsoever.

Reluctantly, he finished her sentence.

"Because you almost dropped your panties after I took you into another room?"

He was blank; so tough to read.

"Do you have to be so vulgar all the damn time?" She thought about his words and how he phrased the actuality of what probably would've happened if she hadn't decided to stop his wandering hands that were so gentle, but rough at the same time.

"You're cute when you're frustrated." Rocco said softly.

"Why are you doing this." Camryn replied, puzzled.

"Doing what?" He knew what she meant.

"Fucking with me."

Camryn searched his eyes for an answer she wanted, but was never getting.

He grinned at her and put down his coffee.

"Because I can. And because you deserve it."

Camryn rolled her eyes. "Why did you kiss me then?"

There. She finally asked.

"Why did you let me?"

"Why can't you just answer the question? I can handle whatever you have to say despite you thinking I can't. You're acting like a child."

Taking a sip of her own hot beverage, she looked past him and saw Paige shopping in one of the boutiques across the street.

Shit.

Realistically, there was nothing to honestly say shit about. Their coffee talk was going to air within a few months. Camryn could run, but she couldn't hide. And she was beginning to be okay with that.

"Fine. You want the truth?" His empty and indecipherable expression had come back.

"Yes. I do."

Immediately after her response he said, "I thought you were Brooke and once I noticed it was you, I was too drunk to care."

"You're lying." Brooke and Camryn looked nothing alike. Both were beautiful, but most certainly were very different.

He really was such a bad liar.

"I'm not. I'm sorry it wasn't what you wanted to hear. Maybe Bryson can fill the void you wanted me to that night."

Here comes the thunder.

Camryn couldn't continue on like this with him. It was driving her insane.

She held out her hand, coolly, waiting for it to be met by his. He gazed at it, baffled. He was expecting to ruffle her feathers with that last comment.

"Truce?"

Without saying another word, her eyes told him that she was exhausted by his behavior and that she was ready to move past their dislike for each other, if he was, too.

Finally, the war was over.

Before he shook her hand and got up from his seat, leaving her there feeling complacent and relieved - to a certain degree - he said what she was dying to hear the entire time.

"Truce."