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“It was Costa Rica, Ben. It could have been anything.”

“I’m so glad you were with him,” Ivy said with uncharacteristic gravity, glancing at Cam.

“Me too,” Bennett muttered.

Three things became obvious as the stories took flight. First, given the wealth evident in their shenanigans, none of them needed to work at all. Second, Camden loved his friends wholly and without reservation. And third, Ivy and Bennett were a tiny bit in love with each other.

A few patrons entered, but it remained mostly quiet. When the pizza arrived, Bennett fetched it, and we shared as if we were old friends, me squeezing into their threesome without the slightest friction.

It was so…lovely.

But it was also torture.

The peek into Cam’s world left me with that familiar icy feeling of inadequacy. I would never fit in with these people. I absolutely did not belong. Their level of wealth was as incomprehensible to me as my poverty would be to them.

Why did they sit on piles of money they did nothing with? How many people could they help with even a portion of that money?

And why—why!—was I still tormenting myself with the fantasy of Cam Shepherd? Was it simply the impossibility that left me wanting? Yearning for things I couldn’t have?

Melancholy nipped at my heels, but I pasted a smile on my face. This longing wasn’t new, after all. It had been living in my heart since I was fifteen.

The sad part? It would probably live there forever.

Sixteen

As we finished up with the pizza, I glanced at the filling tables. “How busy does it usually get on Friday nights?”

“Busy, but not slammed.” Ivy stood and took the pizza box to the bar, where Jessie disposed of it. She waved at me to join her. I offered a parting smile to Cam and Ben.

“I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to have another girl in the group,” she said after I slid onto a stool beside her.

I chuckled. “Am I in the group now?”

Strangely, a wash of pink spread over her cheeks. “I meant— You know⁠—”

I held up a hand. “Don’t worry, Ivy. I’m not going to gatecrash your trips to the Amalfi Coast.”

She burst into laughter. “That’s not what I mean, darlin’. Gatecrash all you want. In fact, if you wanted to come, I’m sure you’d find an all-expenses paid ticket in your hand in seconds.”

I bumped my shoulder against hers. “Hilarious. I’m well aware Bennett’s flirting is just for show.”

Green eyes lit upon me, quizzical, before flashing toward Jessie. “Another round, my love.”

As we sipped our fresh drinks, the lounge continued to fill. Ivy showed me her phone screen, open to the analytics. The post already had thousands of views.

My eyebrows shot up. “You’re a popular woman.”

“Oh, I just know a lot of people and like to take pictures of expensive things.” Before she slipped her phone back into her purse, I caught a wide-eyed glimpse of her follower count. Whoa. “I’m going to peek into the ladies’ room. I’ll be back.”

She clacked away, and I chuckled at the heads turning as she passed. The Honey tasted especially sweet on my tongue after the savory pizza, a luxurious dessert that warmed me from the inside out. As I savored, the man next to me met my eye. He was about my age, cute, and his left hand was bare. He opened his mouth, probably to introduce himself, when a familiar, heart-stopping presence filled the space on my opposite side. I forgot all about the cute boy and zeroed in on Cam. In the dim light, the silver in his eyes disappeared, and the blue deepened like the drop-off at a beach, where pale, safe aqua descended to vibrant, fathomless cobalt.

A slow smile spread across his face. “Honeycutt.”

“Shepherd.”

Cam eyed the glass in my hand, then lifted his own toward me, offering a toast. “To the Sweetheart of Sugar Springs.”

I rolled my eyes, but toasted him regardless. Vanilla honey bathed my tongue. I would never get over the excellence of this bourbon.