Page 81 of Best Part of Me

“It’s getting there.” This conversation is easy, and I’m grateful.

“I tried following along on your trip on Instagram. You caught some great shots. Your company is damn lucky to have you on their team.”

The compliment causes my shoulders to broaden. But at the same time, my throat goes raw and achy. I’m undeserving. If they gave out a medal for World’s Shittiest Best Friend, I’d be the recipient. Messing around with your best friend’s sister is worse than messing around with their girl.

Somehow I manage to choke out a, “thanks.”

“I’m anxious to see the rest and read about the sites on the blog.”

“Still have a lot to edit. Both the photos and the articles.”

“I’m sure you’re just being modest. As usual.” Jones gets distracted as two women I recognize from the bachelorette party pass our table. His head swivels, and I roll my eyes.Real subtle, Jones.

“Instead of eye-fucking them, why don’t you just go talk to them?” I press, raising my voice over the music.

Annoyance flashes in his eyes when he swings his attention back on me. “Because we’re hanging out. It’s bro night.”

“I don’t mind. I can chill here.”

“I already suffered through last weekend without you.”

I quirk a brow. “Didn’t you hook up with someone?”

He shrugs.

“I’d hardly call that suffering.”

“True. I bet you’re hard up for some female companionship.”

My eyes widen, feeling caught. “What? Nah, man. I’m fine.”

“Fine? You were on the road for ten days.”

I glance away, my gaze not meeting his while I chug my beer. And, of course, I can’t stop the flashes of a naked Cammie in my mind. They’re permanently burned there in my memory. And I can’t decide if it’s a blessing or a curse.

“Unless...” His words drift, and I know I need to say something.

I need to kill these assumptions before Jones’s suspicions lead down a path I can’t let them go.

“You can keep yourunlessto yourself.”

“Fine, fine, don’t tell me. But you know I’ll get it out of you eventually.” He presses his bottle to his lips until I see something flash in his eyes. A recognition.

Dread fills me as I turn around and spot what has Jones’s attention.

Camille.

The dread battles with this instant craving for her. Only two short days without her, and I’ve missed her. It’s pathetic.I’mpathetic. Even still, I don’t care.

Thoughtlessly, I rise from the stool as she hesitantly approaches our table. Her eyes shift, unable to make contact with mine. She has her arm linked through Rosie’s, and I imagine they won’t be sticking around long.

“Hey, sis. Rosalyn,” Jones greets, so formal it’s off-putting.

“Hey,” Cammie says softly.

“You guys look like you’re out on the prowl. Here trying to pick up some college girls?”

“What?” I whip my head at Rosie. It takes me a few seconds to realize she’s joking. So I play along. “The younger, the better.”

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