Page 24 of Best Part of Me

My brain scatters with words, my throat ticking with fear that my unreadable expression will give me away and he’ll catch Cammie and me.

“She must be fucking hot. Who you got in there?” He waggles his brows.

If he only knew.

“You know I don’t kiss and tell,” I finally say, the lie slithering out of me a little easier than the last one.

“That’s bullshit. But whatever, I’ll let you have this one. For now. You can tell me about it at our next boy’s night after you’re back.” He steps out into the hall.

“Sounds good.”

He gives me a bro handshake, bringing me in for a hug. “As long as it’s not Rosie. Or Cammie, that is.”

I nearly choke as he claps me on the back. “Ha, ha, right,” I force out.

“Have a safe trip, man.”

“Thanks. See you in ten days.”

I watch him jog down the stairs before closing the door. When I turn back around, ready to exhale, I stiffen. Cammie is there, dressed in my sweatshirt and a pair of my sweatpants. Her eyes are glossy with fresh tears, and my heart hammers into my ribcage.

“Cammie. Hey, I’m sorry you had to overhear that.” I stride over to her and trace the back of my fingers down the side of her face.

Her eyes lock on mine, purpose driving them. “Were you serious about taking me with you?”

“Of course. But—”

“Give me two hours,” she interrupts as she shuffles past me. “Pick me up outside of The Pines.”

“Okay,” is all I have time to say before she’s gone.

And I’m left standing here wondering what the hell I’ve just done. Agreeing to let her come with me on this road trip was idiotic. There’s no fucking way I can keep my hands—or other body parts—to myself for ten days.

CHAPTER7

Camille

Chris

Babe, please respond. I’m getting worried.

Fine. We don’t have to get married. Let’s just go on our honeymoon and we’ll figure this shit out.

Please. The trip is non-refundable.

Last chance. Respond or I’m taking our honeymoon without you.

Just know, you’re going to fucking regret this.

* * *

Overhearing Jones say I’m bad at making decisions is probably what pushed me to take an Uber home from Maverick’s, pack, leave a quick note for Dad, and stand on the corner of 6thand Pine Street waiting for Maverick.

It’s still morning, so The Pines bar is closed, but at night, it’s alive with music, twinkling lights, shuffleboard, and the absolute best beer. It’s also where Jones has been working since he graduated from college and decided taking over the family hardware store wasn’t something he wanted to do. Despite Dad conditioning him for it since he was sixteen.

Maverick’s Jeep pulls up along the curb like clockwork. It’s been exactly two hours since I left him standing shirtless in his apartment, looking fucking delicious. Maybe Jones was right. Maybe I do make terrible decisions. Because leaving Maverick this morning instead of staying in the warmth of his bed and his arms, was a bad decision.

One I’m hoping to make up for. Again and again over the course of the next ten days.

---