Page 58 of What Should Have Been Ours

I don’t know what it is about Cam in scrubs. Maybe I’m ovulating.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion in his eyes, the slight stubble on his jaw from a long shift, or the way his sleeves are pushed up just enough to reveal his perfect arms. Maybe it’s just…him…sitting across from me on my living room floor, his long legs stretched out under the coffee table, looking like he’s finally somewhere he can relax.

We’re playing Scrabble.

It’s one of the many games we were obsessed with as teenagers, stuck in a hospital room with nothing else to do.

We would always raid the nurse’s closet, where they had all the best board games hidden away, to pull out for when a kid was having a bad day and play one with them.

Cam is losing miserably right now.

“Cam,” I deadpan, staring at the board. “What the hell is ‘zorp’?”

He smirks, leaning back on his hands. “It’s a word.”

“It’s absolutely not.”

“Oh, so now you’re a dictionary?”

I roll my eyes, reaching for my phone. “Fine. I’ll look it up.”

“Cheating,” he whines.

I snort. “I’m sorry—me cheating? You just made up a whole word.”

Cam just grins. “I don’t remember you being this competitive as kids.”

I shoot him a look. “Oh, please. You were the worst sore loser back in the day.”

“Was not.”

“Were too. You threw an actual tantrum when I beat you in Mario Kart once.”

His jaw drops. “That is slander. I had the right to be upset. You hit me with a red shell right before the finish line.”

I shrug, smug. “Survival of the fittest.”

Cam shakes his head, reaching for his water. “I really should’ve known better than to agree to this game.”

I watch him take a sip, my eyes lingering a little too long.

There’s something about having him here, in my space, that makes my heart happy. It’s been like this since that night at the drive-in. This feeling that we’re more now, but still haven’t officially given it a title. Although we don’t need to. We know what we mean to each other.

And maybe it’s that thought that makes me blurt out something I’ve been too scared to bring up until now—

“So…when do we have the ex’s talk?”

Cam chokes on his water, coughing as he sets the bottle down. “Damn, that came out of nowhere.”

I smirk. “What? Scared of the ghosts in your closet?”

He clears his throat, still eyeing me. “Not scared, just…surprised. But fine. You wanna go there?”

I nod, waiting.

Cam leans forward on his elbows, tilting his head. “You want the truth?”

“Always.”