“I do.” I try for casual, and fail miserably. “A whole lot more than I should.”
“Aww, honey.” Her gaze shifts, knowing. “You’re falling, aren’t you?”
“Already have.” I shrug. “Couldn’t quite help it. She’s amazing.” I hesitate, then let the thought tumble out. “But sometimes, I wonder if it’s too soon. After Jenna. After my divorce. What if I’m rushing into something I’m not ready for?”
Mom shuts the fridge and leans against the counter, arms crossing slowly as she levels that “mom” look at me. “Knox. Just because your last relationship ended badly doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a good one now or later. Love doesn’t run on someone else’s timeline. And healing doesn’t mean waiting forever to feel again.”
She studies me with that look she’s had since I was a kid, equal parts gentle and unyielding. “And does Cami know how you feel?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
“Oh, son. Please don’t let summer end without telling her. Life’s too short to keep that kind of thing to yourself. And if I had to guess”—she nods toward the doorway where Cami’s burst of amusement drifts back to us—“I’d say she’s fallen too.”
Her words hit me like a barreling load of truth I’m not ready to face head-on. I run a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly. “We agreed to keep things simple. No strings. No falling.”
She smiles, eyes warm. “You can make all the rules you want, Knox, but love doesn’t care about agreements.”
A self-mocking chuckle slips from me. “I just don’t want to ruin what we have now. Telling her could change everything.”
“Maybe it will.” Her hand finds my arm, her expression comforting. “But maybe it changes it into something even better. Something beyond summer. You won’t know if you keep how you feel locked up.”
I glance toward the doorway again, catching the sound of Cami’s happiness spilling down the hall.
“Yeah,” I say, the thought of an “us”beyond summer tugging a smile I can’t hide. “You could be right.”
Steam curls around the bathroom door when I step out, towel slung low on my hips.
Cami’s already in bed, hair loose, lamplight painting her skin in soft gold. She came up earlier because she felt a little tired.
She glances up when I cross the room, eyes immediately catching mine.
“Shower okay?” she asks, teasing.
“Lonely.” I grab the pajama pants I probably won’t bother putting on. “You spoiled me.”
Her smile spreads. “I missed showering with you tonight too.”
“It’s our ritual.” I drop the towel, slide under the cool sheets beside her. “Feeling better?”
She leans into me, head on my shoulder, fingertips drifting across my chest, tracing lazy circles that hit like a jolt. “Yep,” she says quietly, then adds, “I think I stood up too fast, felt dizzy. Idrank water with one of those electrolyte packets, lay down for a bit, and felt better. The cool shower helped too.”
I wrap my arm around her, easing her closer like I can shield her from the next spell.
“Next time,” I say, “just tell me. Had I known you were dizzy, I would’ve come up with you.”
Her fingers pause. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Too late,” I say, brushing a kiss into her hair. “I’m always worried.”
Cami inhales slowly as if to absorb my words.
“Your mom’s so sweet,” she says, changing the subject. “And your grandma? Total firecracker.”
I run my fingers through her wavy hair. “They love you.”
“I love them too,” she says, a crack of emotion breaking through.
I turn toward her, catching the tremor in her breath. “Hey,” I whisper, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “What’s wrong, baby?”
