Page 60 of Best Part of Me

“You remember?”

“Of course I remember.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal and licks her chocolate monstrosity flavor.

Unable to restrain myself, I wrap my arm around her and tug her into my side, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

The older woman standing behind the counter, dishing out the ice cream, smiles at us. “Aw. Well, aren’t you two just adorable? Newlyweds?”

Cammie and I lock eyes before we both shift uncomfortably. I release her and rub the back of my neck. “Uhh,” I stutter.

“Thank you.” Cammie smiles wide at the woman. “Do we look like newlyweds?” She snatches my fidgeting hand and holds it tightly in hers.

The woman nods, smiling, with rosy full cheeks.

“Nah, not newlyweds. We’re just fuckbuddies,” Cammie replies loudly before yanking on my hand.

I choke, and the woman’s jaw nearly drops to the floor. A mother with a young child gasps, and a teenage boy chuckles.

Cammie lifts her head proudly and continues yanking my hand as we turn to walk out of the store. I all but trip over my feet as I try to keep up with her, my stunned silence taking residence.

We leave the store, and laughter barks out of me. I squeeze her hand and say, “I fucking love you.”

The woman behind the counter isn’t the only one stunned into silence. After my proclamation, both Cammie and I are left paralyzed.

What did I just do?

CHAPTER17

Camille

I’m not exactly sure what got into me. Why I said what I said. But in the spur of the moment, it felt right. To take a risk. To tell someone how our relationship really is. Because in my head, I can have this entire thing played up into a version of Taylor Swift’s “Love Story.” One where we’re committed to one another and have a future together.

But in reality, we’re exactly that: fuckbuddies.

I take Maverick’s confession as it was obviously intended. It was one of those things you say when you’re in the moment, your guard is down, and you’re riding the emotional happiness train. If I allow myself to think any differently, my heart won’t be able to overcome it.

In the campground bathroom, a thrill wriggles through me as I slip on my hot-pink two-piece bathing suit knowing full well it will be coming off in a matter of minutes. I throw on a cozy cream-colored cardigan and a pair of gray cotton shorts. The only concern worrying me is, what if other campers have this same idea? Will it be a big free-for-all orgie down at the spring?

My stomach twists. I really hope not.

I walk back to the campsite at dusk. Assuming all the children will be out of the springs and back roasting s’mores has me a little less on edge about this whole thing. Maverick is standing by the Jeep, fidgeting with his camera. He’s dressed in a flannel shirt with the buttons undone, and his bare chest is on display like he’s some kind of Abercrombie and Fitch model. Heat rushes me, and I’m tempted to forget the hot springs and drag him into our tent right this second.

He gives me a knowing grin as I approach, his eyes devouring me too.

“You’re not planning on documenting this, are you?” My chin gestures at the camera in his hands.

He chuckles. “Don’t worry, not us. But I do need to get some shots of the springs and the surrounding areas. I’ve got my night lens, but I’d like to head there now to capture the view before it’s completely dark. Okay with you?” he asks, holding a towel out to me.

“Sure, I’m ready.” I exhale a shaky breath.

Ready as I’ll ever be.

The path to the hot spring is rocky beneath my flip-flops. I pull the cardigan around my body and hug the towel to my chest. My heart hammers against my ribcage.

Maverick walks alongside me, distracted by his camera. I ramble to calm my nerves, and he allows it even though I’m not sure he’s paying much attention. He’s all business.

“I always thought I’d like camping. With how much time I’ve spent at our hardware store and going fishing with my grandparents, camping sorta seemed like it would be right up my alley.”

“That’s true.”

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