Page 19

Our first meeting was in Gator’s Groceries, Oakley Island’s tiny local grocery store. I was swinging a basket in one hand, humming under my breath. A Miley Cyrus song, which I only remember because I hated the song, but it earwormed its way into my head without permission and wouldn't give up residency. I also had the hiccups, which were almost as annoying as the song looping in my head.

A man I didn’t recognize was blocking the aisle, crouched down and reading a label—a habit I personally find very silly. Don’t we all know most food is filled with preservatives and chemicals that are going to kill us? Might as well eat, drink, and be happy, for tomorrow we die—thanks to food dye.

Case in point: I was there to grab some instant ramen for me, Kettle Chips (his favorite gluten-free option) for Liam, and a Diet Dr Pepper to get me through the afternoon. Not to say we live off that kind of food on the regular, but you’ll never find me taking up a whole aisle reading ingredients before making a purchase.

I paused for a moment, waiting for the most-likely-a-tourist to notice me and move. He didn’t. I cleared my throat. Still no movement. The guy was reading this label like it just hit theNY Timesbestseller list and this aisle was the most comfortable reading chair in the world.

“Excuse me,” I said, trying to channel fake cheerfulness to cover up the annoyance I was actually feeling. A hiccup punctuated my words.Awesome.

The man took his time putting back whatever he was looking at—his body blocked my nosy eyes from seeing what it was—and stood, turning to face me.

That’s when I froze. Well—I froze after my fingers opened, dropping my basket to the floor. My hiccups instantly evaporated.Poof!Gone. Along with thoughts, rational and otherwise.

Just like now.

Whatever I was thinking moments ago, whatever Eloise had been talking about when I hung up on her, whatever planet I’m on—all of it’s gone.

There is only Camden, standing outside my car, staring intently at me. His eyes might be a medium brown, but the heat in his gaze is scorching hot.

So much for staying out in the car to avoid any possibility of running into him.

Even though I’m looking right at him, when Camden knocks on my window, I jerk, dropping my phone. It falls somewhere between the seat and my center console, the no-man’s-land of every car, never to be seen again.

I throw open my door, inadvertently slamming it right into Camden. He groans loudly and stumbles back, bending over. I jump out of the car, instinct making me reach for him. But since I absolutely can’t go around casually touching Camden, I stop short and wave my hands ineffectively in the air like I’m trying to fan him.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“You hit me with your car,” he grumbles.

“My cardoor. You make it sound like I mowed you down in the street with a moving vehicle. And why were you standing so close to my car?”

He glares at me, finally straightening up to his full height. “Why didn’t you just roll down the window when you saw me standing here?”

“The car isn’t running!”

“You’re sitting in the parking lot during winter without the car on? Aren’t you cold?”

I am, now that he mentions it. But I hadn’t been or at least hadn’t noticed. Now that I’m standing outside, my teeth are already starting to chatter.

Camden’s frown intensifies. “Why aren’t you wearing a coat?”

“I wasn’t planning on getting out of the car. I’m just waiting for Liam.”

But also … I don’t own a coat. I mean, I have some hoodies like the Oakley Island one I’m wearing, a scarf, and a hat. With all the expenses from the move, which were unfortunately not covered by my employer, I only had enough to buy him a coat. It hasn’t been pleasant these last two weeks, but my plan is to go coat shopping later today.

I have a feeling if I mention this, the frown on Camden’s face will only get frownier, and it’s a good look on him. So, I swallow down the words before I nervously babble a confession about not owning proper winter wear while living in the mountains.

His expression shifts. “I need you to come inside with me,” he says.

“No, thanks.” I cross my arms, a move that does double duty. I’m cold, but it also bolsters my words. It’s body language that communicates strength and determination I absolutely don’t feel. I’m about ready to buckle like a belt.

“Naomi, please.”

There was a time when apleasefrom Camden would have dismantled any resistance. I can feel the one word attempting to melt my already pitiful resolve. But I bite the inside of my cheek and remind myself of how hard it was to hide the sound of my sobs from Liam in the months after Camden left Oakley.

Nope. Not going there again.

I start to get back in my car. “That’s okay. I’ll just wait here for Liam. He’s taking hockey classes.”