Page 99 of Puppy Love

We sit on the bench next to his truck while we eat. Al made her his famous carne asada burrito with spicy verde salsa, and Cam’s eyes practically roll back in her head when she takes her first bite. I don’t like that I’m not the only reason her eyes roll back, but I’ll accept it.

“Okay,” she says, chewing. “I might believe in heaven.”

“I told you.”

A small drop of green salsa pools in the side of her mouth, and it takes everything in me not to wipe it away.

After we finish, we wave goodbye to Al. He stares at us closely as we walk away, his eyes narrow and his lips turned upwards.

As we walk, I explain the full story about the crystals. About Al’s daughter, and Einstein, and energy. When I had brought it up to Mallory, she’d immediately shut me down.

“It’s a rock, babe,” she said, in a condescending tone. “You’d have better luck wishing on stars.”

But Cam actually listens. She asks questions and pulls out her phone to look up sources for my answers. She thinks about every response I give her and lets it sink in until it makes sense. And if it doesn’t, she just asks more questions. She still doesn’t believe in it, at least that’s what the slight raise of her brow tells me, but she doesn’t make fun of it either.

25“Now you know something about me,” I say. “It’s my turn to know something about you.”

Cam furrows her brows.

“Why?” she asks, all suspiciously.

I shoot her a look.

“Cam, I let you sit on my face. Don’t you think I deserve to be able to ask a couple questions here or there?”

After Hayden pointed it out last week, I realized he was right. I actually do know a lot about Cam. I know about her parents and her disorder. I know she likes pickles but hates tomatoes. I know her favorite color is green, and her favorite show is Criminal Minds. I know what makes her tick and what makes her moan. But when it comes to Cam, I can never know too much. Every time a blank gets filled, a new one forms, begging for its turn. I would throw away every memory if it meant I could make room to know more about her.

“Fine. Ask away.”

I had expected to fight harder than that, so whatever question I had lined up in my mind completely disappears. But almost instantaneously, a new one surfaces.

“So, tell me about The Dog Shop,” I say more than ask.

Air hisses out of Cam’s nose as she holds in a short laugh. “Really?” she asks. “Why do you want to know about that?”

I shrug.

“It’s how you ended up here.”

A reluctant sigh slips from her lips, and her eyes latch onto mine in an unamused stare. But after a moment, she gives in.

“The Dog Shop got me started. I know how to do what I do because of it. They hired me, trained me, and employed me for years,” she says, almost void of emotion. I cock a brow.

“Why leave then?”

“It…” She trails off. “It was hard.”

I look at her, waiting for her to continue, but she doesn’t. I know she has to have more to say. Cameron Miller doesn’t just give up if something is “hard.” I know because I watch her do it all the time. So I just keep looking at her.

“What?” she asks, all defensive. I shrug.

“Just waiting for you to keep talking.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

I know she’s just giving me a hard time. That’s what Cam does.

“Then we can walk in silence, Princess,” I say with a teasing smirk. “I know you have no issue with that.”

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