Page 1 of Best Part of Me

Prologue

CAMILLE

“Tits up, buttercup,” Rosie says with a gesture that has everyone within earshot looking atherchest rather than mine.

“Rosalie Milano,” Grandma Nettie scolds, swatting Rosie’s hands down to her sides. But despite trying, she fails to hide her giggle.

“C’mon, Nettie, don’t be modest. Shit, you’re the one responsible for passing down that killer rack to our girl,” Rosie says.

“She’s not wrong.” Gigi elbows my grandma in the side and now they’re all laughing.

I wish I was laughing along with them. As grateful as I am for Rosie, I’m finding it difficult to find the humor tonight.

“I think what Rosie was trying to say is, this is your night, sweetie, you should look happy and proud. Not all slumpy.”

I pull strength from the place that’s deep down, the place I pull from when Mom needs me to be tenacious for her. It’s the place I’ve been drawing from a lot since her diagnosis, and when I’m trying to convince myself I’m doing the right thing by marrying Chris.

But lately, I’m finding it more difficult to extract energy from that place. It feels as if it’s a well that’s almost dried up. Somewhere though, the strength gives way, and a smile breaks through. It’s enough to at least satisfy Mom.

“It’s not too late,” Rosie whispers in my ear. “Just say the word and I’ll have you outta here in two seconds.”

Again, my gratitude for having a best friend like Rosalie Milano has me feeling less anxious. “I’ll be all right.”

“Do I need to remind you, this is forever?That,” she gestures at Chris who’s standing near me dressed in a tailored suit and sporting a clean-shaven face, “isfor-ev-er.” she’s using her bestSandlotimpersonation when she says forever.

The corner of my lips tug into a smile more easily now. “I know, thanks, Rosie.”

“Okay, but when shit hits the fan, just don’t say I didn’t try.” She stomps around the table and sits across from me.

Chris slides out a chair, indicating I take the seat next to him. Mom gives my arm a gentle squeeze before she sits in the empty chair on my other side. She looks so happy. A far difference from where she was this time last year; weak, pale skin, and no hair from the rounds of chemo.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I finally sit. Chris pats my thigh before becoming distracted by a conversation his parents are having. Dad and Grandpa stroll into the reserved room of the restaurant while my brother, Jones, lingers by the door.

I can’t tell if he’s waiting for Maverick or Mia. Expecting either to show tonight is a longshot.

But regardless, I can’t keep the anticipation from blooming in my chest. I feel like I might be sick. Even though Maverick received an invitation to my engagement dinner, I’m only half expecting him to show. Part of me thinks it’s best if he skips tonight’s festivities. But a bigger part of me—the part of me I don’t seem to have much control over—longs for him to be here.

How can he not be here?He hasn’t missed a single milestone in my life since I turned thirteen. We were all inseparable when we were kids. Me, Jones, Rosie, Maverick, Mia.

But we aren’t kids anymore.

I was reminded of that when Mia left Maple Ridge shortly after she and Jones broke up and she hasn’t been back. Not even for tonight. I’m reminded of our expired adolescence again while I wait like a lovesick puppy dog for a man, who isn’t my fiancé, to make an appearance at my engagement party.

There’s a good level of chatter in the room. Almost everyone here has been connected one way or another for several years. And despite the usual tension between Dad and my brother, Jones, they seem to be getting along tonight.

The wait staff at the fanciest Italian restaurant in town refills water glasses, pours wine, and brings us more baskets of bread while we wait for the main course. The candles flicker atop the white linen tabletop and the old wood-burning fireplace in the corner of the room creates a warm cozy vibe. It’s the perfect setting for a fall engagement party in Maple Ridge, Colorado.

The door of the reserved room opens slowly, and when my eyes fall on Maverick standing in the doorway, my heart gives a tiny punch against my ribs.

Stupid heart.

But he’s here.

When his familiar brown eyes find mine, his lips stretch into a wide smile. The panic in my chest resolves into relief. His presence soothes me and gives me the peace I need for tonight. There’s a brief moment of hesitation in his demeanor, before he ultimately shuffles toward me. I rise to my feet, and my legs wobble beneath me.

He stretches an arm around my waist, giving me a side-hug. “Hey, Sunshine.” And he drops a kiss on the top of my head.

It’s friendly. It’s sweet. And it’s so fucking far from romantic. Because Maverick and I are friends. It’s another reminder that we will only everbefriends. If I had a dollar for every time Maverick has friend-zoned me, as Rosie would say, I’d be a very rich Bitch.

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