Page 19 of One Day

“Do you think he would be game?” I ask, picking at one of my curls and pulling it straight out of habit before letting it go.

She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. “Have you seen yourself?”

I roll my eyes, sliding my laptop forward on the bed. “There’s a bit more to it than finding me hot. Walker finds me hot and still said no.”

“Did he say that?”

“He didn’t have to. I could see it on his face,” I tell her, climbing up to my feet. “Campbell doesn’t seem like the casual sex type.”

She shrugs, running her hand over the sporadic ink that marks her arms. “It doesn’t hurt to ask, right? Can’t be any worse than asking Walker.”

I laugh when there’s a brief knock at my door before it opens, and Everett pops his head inside. The blond hair he had this morning is now blue, and I have no idea when he had time to dye it. It seems to be a tradition at this point. All the time I’ve known him, he sported everything from bleach blond to pink. “Is there a reason Walker’s sitting outside our house?”

“What?” I ask, looking at Bekah, who shares the same surprised look before darting back to Everett. “What are you talking about?”

“He does drive a blue Escape, doesn’t he?” I nod, and he says, “Yeah, he’s sitting out front in his car. He didn’t seem to notice me when I pulled up.”

I reach for my phone from the bed, turning it over to see if I missed a text from him letting me know he’s here, but the screen is blank of any notifications. “Thanks, Evy. I’ll go check on him,” I say, pocketing my phone and heading towards him. “How was work?”

“It was work,” he says, sighing heavily as he takes a step back into the hall and follows me towards the stairs. Bekah trailing behind us. “You guys are still coming to my showcase tomorrow, right? I get it if—”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” I say, squeezing his bicep.

“We’re actually planning to go to On The Bench after to celebrate you and get Sonya here dicked down,” Bekah chimes in, and I can’t help the laugh that falls from my lips.

“Can we not say get ‘Sonya dicked down?’” I ask politely and stop at the bottom of the stairs when I see Reid, Dylan, and because my luck has already been so great today—Campbell.

“Hey, Sunny.” Campbell’s rich laugh fills the room.

“Uh, hi,” I say, lifting my hand in greeting and trying not to shy away when my cheeks burn bright red. “You’re going to pretend like you didn’t hear that.”

He nods his head, the dark blond waves that are longer on the top and shaved down on the sides swaying with the movement. I would go as far as to say that Campbell is the embodiment of the word pretty. Thick shoulders, lean frame, and the clearest blue eyes I have ever seen. It also helps that he's quite possibly the nicest guy I’ve ever met, a direct contrast to the venom he spits out on the ice when someone goes after one of his teammates.

“Unless you wanted to do the honors,” Bekah says, patting his shoulder when she sinks back into her claimed armchair.

Dylan’s head turns my way at her commentary, but I’m already ignoring the fact my friends clearly have it out for me and want to see me die of embarrassment. “I’ll be back. Campbell, don’t listen to anything anyone says. They are all filthy liars and don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Except the dicking down part,” Bekah says. “That’s true.”

“Beks!” My eyes widen. “What the hell?”

“What? You said it yourself. You miss sex.”

“Rebekah Layne Reynolds, please, for the love of all that is good in this world,” I pause to make sure she’s paying attention. “Shut up!”

“Fuck, she pulled out the full name,” Everett says, laughing at her expense. “You’ve brought out the beast, Beks. I might zip it.”

“I hate all of you,” I say, heading for the front door.

“Where are you going?” Reid asks.

I wave off the concern. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right back.”

Slipping into my sneakers, I pull the door open and step into the cool winter air. Sure enough, Walker’s car is exactly where Everett said it was, and he doesn’t seem to realize he’s gained our attention with his presence. The packed snow crunches under my feet as I hurry down the front yard, slowly approaching his passenger door.

I lean down to catch sight of him, but his eyes are focused on something ahead of him. Turning my head, I try to find what he’s so enamored by but come up with nothing but the empty street. Knocking lightly on his car window, I hear the lock click open.

“Hey,” I say, sliding into the warm car and pulling the door shut behind me. “Were you planning to come in or just going to sit out here like a stalker?”

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