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It was cute to see, especially after the way the guy used to moon after her in high school.
Now, there’s something distinctly not cute about the look he’s leveling me with. In fact, there’s something downright menacing about it. Which is saying a lot, considering Neil has a Cosmo magazine and a box of tampons tucked under his arm.
“Everything okay?”
“Sure. Sure, it is.” He smiles. Flatly. “You know Cam’s my best friend. Right?”
My brows lift. Well, damn.
“I swear to God, Cam, he was giving me the talk,” I say, handing him a beer and then dropping onto the opposite side of the couch and propping my feet beside his on the table. “Like you-break-his-heart-I-break-your-face style.”
Cam’s shaking his head, lips parted in one of those stunted laughs. “No.”
“Yes.” We clink our longnecks. “Hundred percent, yes. He flexed at me.”
Damn, that laugh. This guy was always so reserved in high school. But now, he’s always laughing, and I freaking love it.
“Now I know you’re lying to me.”
“I’m not.” My head drops back against the cushions, and I sigh. “And it was awesome.”
He shifts so he’s got one arm stretched across the top of the couch and he’s facing me. “I talked to him. Told him not to get carried away about this.”
“Ehh, he’s your ride or die. Neil’s probably excited for a chance to be the one looking out for you for a change, right?” I thread our fingers together. “Unless you think he’s jealous and this decades-long business with Judy is all part of some long game to get with you… in which case, my flex is totes bigger than his flex.”
I demonstrate, popping some muscles for show and earning a hard eye roll.
“Baby, put those things away.” And then after another sip of beer, he leans back, relaxed. “So, tell me about the call with your agent today. She got any good news for you?”
Not really. It was more of the same uncertainty, but damned if it isn’t nice to be able to share it with him.
CAM
It’s too easy imagining this man in my life beyond the two weeks we have left together. Two weeks. Every time I think about that ticking clock and what my life is going to look like after Trevor’s gone, my chest gets that too-tight feeling of holding my breath at the bottom of the pool.
I don’t like it, but I just keep diving back in regardless. Because this, the way things have been between us since he got back here, is everything.
We’ve been together every night. Sometimes at his place. Sometimes at mine. Always when we close our eyes and still when we pry them open in the morning.
It’s so good, but it’s just a fling.
I try to convince myself that’s the magic of it— the whole no-expectations-beyond-the-end-of-the-month thing. That we’re living outside of reality, and that’s why it’s so easy, so effortless.
Maybe I’d be able to believe my own bull if it wasn’t for one little thing… we’ve been here before.
Back in high school, Trevor and I ran in different circles. He played hockey and I swam. Both winter sports, which meant that even in a community as small as Wildren, there was a divide. It wasn’t hostile, but people had to choose how they spent their Friday nights. And those choices carried over into lunches and the time between the bells during the school days too.
So while we were friendly… we weren’t really friends.
But somehow, any time we ended up in the same space— paired up for badminton in gym class, dissecting a cow eye in biology, or waiting in the hall to be called in for the vision test— something just clicked.
We laughed at the same jokes and got exactly what the other was saying, whether it was debating the merits of French fries over tater tots or falling into that one shockingly intimate conversation about me losing my mom and him losing his dad in grade school.
We clicked so well, it scared me. And at a time when I was still working so hard to keep my secret, there was this boy who made me feel like anyone walking by could see what I was thinking about him.
Worse, that he would.
There were times I avoided him for that alone. And then times when I got reckless and leaned into that easy connection just for a minute, just praying that no one would notice. That’s what I was doing the night of Finch’s party.
