Page 29 of As You Ice It

“You’re not what I would call … common, Naomi.”

“Hey,” I protest, but Camden’s steady brown gaze stops me from saying more.

“It’s a compliment,” he says.

“So, were you ever going to tell me that you were working with Liam?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“When it comes to my kid, being kept in the loop trumps all.”

“Noted.” Another pause. “Then I’m sorry for not letting you know. I guess it was … cowardly. I also should have asked before buying him gear. I wasn’t trying to imply that you couldn’t get it yourself. I just saw a need that was easy for me to meet, and I met it.”

“I guess I can understand your reasoning,” I say.

“Will Liam be in trouble for not telling you?”

I sigh. “I don’t know what to do with him. We’ll have a conversation. I doubt there will be any kind of punishment. I mean, if I didn’t do anything when he signed up for these classes without permission, I suppose I can’t do anything about this. I’m just not used to the version of him where he keeps secrets.”

Camden looks like he’s about to say something in response, but then he clears his throat and asks, “Elevator or stairs?”

“Stairs,” I say quickly. Nothing potentially sexy about climbing up or down a commercial stairwell.

But being alone in an elevator with Camden, on the other hand …

I am not willing to test my resolve. Not when he’s being … I don’t know what he’s being. Not quite flirty, but then Camden was never a flirt. He’s being kind, at the very least. His version of non-flirtatious flirty, at most. And it’s doing things to me. Bad things.

Obviously, my feelings never went away, despite the way I wished they would. Or how hard I pretended they had. Iknewthis, but as long as I didn’t see Camden, I could believe my lies. At least, a little bit.

Now, there is zero room for self-delusion.

Glancing to my left, at the tall, quiet man whose stubbly jawline has haunted my dreams for months, the nagging thoughts rise up again.

You made a mistake. You got scared, and you ran.

No, I think, trying to smush those thoughts down into a hermetically sealed box I can sink twenty thousand million leagues under the sea,I did what was necessary to protect Liam. And myself.

Coward, the voice hisses as I finally manage to cram that box shut, dropping it into a mental Mariana Trench.

Because maybe I was cowardly. (I was.) Maybe I ran scared. (I did.) But then … I called Camden and tried to take it back andhesaid no.

It was basically a two-for-one breakup special.

Camden pushes open the stairwell door, then gives me an assessing look. “You okay?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He stares for a beat, like he’s wondering if I believe my own words. “You had a look on your face,” he finally says.

“No look. This is just my face.” I push past him into the stairwell. Only, this time as I pass, I forget to hold my breath.

And there it is: Camden’s warm, familiar scent, releasing a deluge of memories that almost knock the wind out of me.

Laughter. Sand beneath my bare feet and his big, calloused hand wrapped around mine. His lips, warm and confident, making me forget my own name. The firmness of his chest under my cheek as his arms hold me tight.

Safety. Longing. Joy.

Home.

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