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“Aw shucks, Evan. Always the charmer.”
He grins as he brings the bags over to me. “Let me go get the rest, Camcoon.”
Our laughter follows him out, and together, we go to help. After bringing in the rest of my laundry and the groceries, I make a face. “Why did you get so much?”
Evan comes out of the room and looks over at me. “I invited friends over for dinner and game night since you’re here.”
I freeze, my skin suddenly crawling with awareness. “Friends? Who’s friends?” I look over at Callie, but she’s not looking at me. “Callie?”
Still not looking at me, she basically becomes one with the refrigerator. “Um, Quinn and his new girlfriend, who we haven’t met but I don’t know how I feel about it.”
Evan nods, leaning on the counter. “Yeah, I hear she’d odd. But I guess we should be happy he’s moving on.”
“Oh, so just the two of them?” I ask, practically praying that’s all. I can be the fifth wheel. That’s fine. If I have to choose a team to be on for the games, I’ll be with Callie and Evan. Easy peasy. But I don’t have to look at either of them to know that I won’t be on their team.
Evan looks from Callie to me, and I don’t think he even tries to hide his grin. “Oh, and your boyfriend.”
My stomach drops. “Benson is coming?” I ask as calmly as I can.
Callie leans into me. “Yeah, figured it’d be fun.”
I meet her gaze. “Maybe if I hadn’t been avoiding him.”
“You’re avoiding your boyfriend?” Evan asks, and Callie gives him a look. He holds his palms up. “I’m just asking.”
I can’t pay him any mind. I’m staring Callie down. “Was this all a scheme? To get me to be around him?”
Callie’s eyes drag from Evan to mine. “No and yes.”
“Huh?”
“So, this has been planned. But I truly did bring you over in my car so you couldn’t just leave after you do your laundry.”
“Callie!” I exclaim, gawking at her. “What part of I’m avoiding him don’t you understand?”
“All of it!” she yells at me. “It’s dumb, Cameron. Stop.”
“You don’t freaking get it. I—” My words cut off when I feel Evan watching us intently.
He looks between us. “What?”
“Can you excuse us?”
“It’s my house,” he tries. “She’s my fiancée.” We both just look at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
When he goes into their room, shutting the door behind him, I look back at my best friend. “I can’t. Like, seriously. I got off from him rubbing my hip.”
She grins. “Just think that would happen if you let him rub you the right way.”
I would implode.
“Callie, for real, for real,” I stress. “In only two days, I was feeling things that I shouldn’t be. It’s dangerous. I have to put space between us.”
“Why?” she asks, visibly confused, and jeez, she’s infuriating.
I can’t even form my thoughts into words. How do I tell my best friend that I don’t think he’d ever love me back? In her eyes, I’m perfection, as she is in mine, and I know what she’ll say. She’ll reassure me because she loves me, but it can’t be true.
Her eyes burn into mine to the point I have to look away. “Cameron,” she says softly, wrapping her arms around me, squishing my arms to my sides. “What is the deal?”
“It’s an arrangement.”
She presses her chin to my shoulder. “You know, he told me it wasn’t.”
“What?” I ask, turning my head to look at her. Our noses almost touch as I search her eyes. “He said what?”
“That it wasn’t an arrangement for him.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.”
The thought of doing that scares me to the bone. “He said that?”
“He did.”
I press my lips together, our gazes locked. “He probably—”
“Ask him,” she stresses. “Get out of your fucking head and ask him.”
I swallow thickly. “I don’t know that I can.”
“Cam,” she breathes, her eyes urging mine. “You can do anything.”
My heart swells at her truth, or maybe it’s the love that shines in her eyes. I feel the emotion choking me. “I don’t want to wear the Miss Muffet dress.”
Her face bursts into a bright smile. “But Cameron, we both know you probably will be.”
I press my lips together. “I don’t want to get hurt.”
“Then don’t. You trusted your gut on who to ask to be your boyfriend for your project. Maybe trust it once you talk to him.”
Her words strike a chord in me as our gazes don’t falter. “There is too much history,” I whisper, and she shrugs.
“And quiet possibility a future.”
Oh, my heart snags at that. Before I can even try to come up with a response, Evan’s voice carries to us. “Should I be worried that you’re trying to steal my fiancée, Camcoon?”
