Page 32 of What Should Have Been Ours

I chew my bottom lip, overthinking his messages. The way they lacked their usual playful tone. I should just brush it off. I should assume he really did just have a long day, just like he said. But still, a little bit of doubt creeps in, rooting itself inside me.

Did I say something wrong?

Maybe he regretted inviting me. Maybe he thought about it and realized having me back in his life is a mistake. Or worse, maybe this whole friends thing was a bad idea, and I should back out before I get too attached again.

“Gabrielle!”

I jump as Kinsley waves a hand in front of my face.

“Geez, Kinsley—what?” I blink, tucking my phone away and pretending I wasn’t just spiraling.

“Why do you have that sad, lost puppy look in your eyes, Gabrielle?” she asks, or more so says, like she’s scolding me.

“I don’t have any look, Kins. Just tired and thinking about this afternoon.”

“Yeah, thinking about Cam,” she says, raising her brows up and down. “So? What did he say? Did he text you something?”

I hesitate, but then sigh and pull my phone back out, handing it to her. “Here. Read for yourself.”

She snatches the phone eagerly and scans the screen. It takes all of two seconds before she scoffs.

“Okay, what exactly are you freaking out about? This is fine.”

I fold my arms. “It just feels different from how he was texting earlier. Like, I don’t know, distant?”

Kinsley groans, dragging a hand down her face. “Gab. He literally told you he had a long day. Maybe, and hear me out, he actually just had a long day.”

“Mmm, yeah, I don’t like it when you start to sound like the more reasonable one. It scares me. I guess I really do need to get a grip, huh?”

“You do, and that’s coming from me, someone who has never had a grip a day in her life,” she tells me, laughing. “Let’s get you looking cute for your just friend Cam, and get out of here so I can go watch some hot, young doctors get all sweaty and dirty on that field.”

I roll my eyes at her and then gesture for her to come on.

* * *

“Okay, I have never seen grown men take a fake sport so seriously,” Kinsley mutters as we step onto the grass.

The smell of roasted peanuts and pretzels wafts over from a nearby food cart, while a small crowd—mostly coworkers and curious tourists—gathers on the edges.

I scan the groups of doctors stretching and hyping each other up on the sidelines.

It honestly does look way too serious for a casual game.

“You’d think they were gearing up for the Super Bowl,” I whisper back, watching as one guy slaps another on the back like they’re about to storm a battlefield.

Kinsley hums. “Which one is Cam again?”

I look around and spot him instantly, standing with a small group of guys, talking animatedly. And then, as if he can feel me looking, his head turns, eyes locking onto mine.

He says something to the guys around him before turning and walking toward us.

“Oh,” Kinsley mutters. “That’s him?”

“Shut up,” I hiss under my breath.

“I mean, damn, Gab. You really undersold how hot he is, and the teenage pictures of y’all did nothing for his current level of fine.”

“Shut up.”