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59
Willow
The sound of Camdyn MacKenzie’s voice still stirs my soul. I rein in the billion feelings threatening to consume me. The love. The hate. The clingy little slut who sees no fault in him and is desperate to thank him for the simplest act, such as attending my mom’s funeral. Seconds pass, I notice the pained craving in his eye, my heart stutters. It dawns on me he’d asked my permission to stand next to me.
“Hey,” I muster, eyes flickering away. “You can, uh, stand here.” Oh, god! I’ve been launched back to square one—the nervous wreck who craved and feared Harley Guy.
While glancing into his gorgeous green-blue eyes, my heart flutters in my chest like it’s preparing to fly away. A deep breath later, I coast next to the man I’ll love until the end of time. The all-important question is—will I ever share my feelings with him again?
“I’m proud of you,” I whisper as we meander along the side of the building. Off in the distance, our principal speaks over the PA system smooching the asses of rich parents.
“I’m proud of us,” he intones back. Camdyn’s warm, callused fingers weave through mine, the perfect fit. His mouth brushes the back of my hand. “I love you madly, Willow.”
Weak kneed, I stare at our united fingers, dreaming of the past. I’ll never forget every morning I awoke in Camdyn’s embrace. His arms were my favorite holiday. On our nights in Big Bear, we felt as peaceful as the fast universe would allow while Camdyn slowly opened up about Scotland.
Our eyes connect. A nuclear explosion could discharge as the past opens wide, sucking us in. Barely contained exhilaration masks our faces, and I know without a shadow of a doubt Camdyn’s reminiscing on us. When Camdyn’s knuckles skim the slope of my cheek, and he leans in, I glance toward the line, progressing around us.
At my delicate rebuff, torment flashes in his eyes. “Are you happy?”
“We’re graduating, Cam.” I tug his hand. The leadership skills I neglected in our entire relationship command him to walk.
For an entire hour, I toss out a laugh when the valedictorian speaks or press my heavy hands together to clap while a celebrity alumnus offers parting wisdom. The processional begins. Our row is signaled to stand for commencement. As we prepare to file out, Camdyn’s hands massage my shoulders.
In a blur, a million names clash. I find my sister, Dad, Mr. Li, who is supportive as hell, smiling down at us. I shake hands with the principal, photo op, and shuffle back to my seat in the center of the auditorium for the final class hoorah.
While more graduates are called forth for a tenuous piece of paper, I whisper, “You looked handsome at the prom. I’m surprised River’s into a male-male relationship.”
“That’s by far the funniest thing you’ve ever said, Willow,” Camdyn counters, leaning in closer than necessary. His mouth fans my earlobe as he adds, “Tatum’s a junior. So, River didn’t want to push the envelope asking her dad, and I don’t give a damn about this school. Prom sucked, by the way, without you. On the other hand, we both got to attend prom at our old schools. You had your lady, Londyn.” He clears his throat suggestively. “Queen Mia approved. She called the two of you pretty princesses. If I were still interested in that type of action . . .”
Eyes fluttering away, I retort, “Whatever. No threesomes with my homie. Prom was nice. I cleared the air with my old track team. Many of them were solo, so I got all the action. Too bad we’re not still together, though.” I confidently meet his eyes. “Mia could’ve done my makeup.”
Laughing softly, Camdyn lifts one of his wide shoulders. “She would’ve enjoyed it. Anyway, I’m a one-woman man. I’ve met the only girl I’ll ever love.”
As he continues to loop the conversation back to us, our gazes lock. No more self-torment, Lolo. He’s bad for you. Do what must be done. Chewing my bottom lip, I whisper, “You have plans after this?”
“Mom’s cooking. Your entire family’s welcome.”
“Even Hil?” Crinkling my eyebrow, I smile at him.
“Yeah. I’m different, Lo.” His beautiful face makes heavenly promises. I wonder if this is all a lovely manipulation tactic.
“I know. I received all your flowers. I’m different too. Apparently, giving strangers flowers each day boosts good karma. Anyway, we’re going to BJs for dinner. I meant your future plans. Still USC?” You’re thinking too hard, Lolo. Just do it already.
“Yup. Did you call the UCLA recruiter?” Genuine interest flickers in Camdyn’s demeanor, and I find guilty pleasure in the next move I’ll execute.
“I cut a deal with another recruiter.” Somersaults of tension flip about in my stomach as I conclude, “I’m going to Spelman.” Relief isn’t flooding through me from disclosing this morsel of information as I thought it would.
While caps soar, physical pain flits across Camdyn’s stiff jaw. We make a conscious decision to stand, mirroring the movements of our peers seconds too late. It hurts me a thousand times more because while Camdyn MacKenzie was a deceptive asshole, I’m just catching up.
No, I’m not attending college in ATL. No, we won’t be states away or even a hundred miles. No, I’m not over him. Not so soon. And no, my endless love for him doesn’t negate the lack of trust between us
