Page 114 of Bang

Cami went on to say, "We were holding hands, remember?"

Hell yeah, I remembered.I wasn't the hand-holding type. And yet, holding hands with Cami had felt different.Better. Nice.

I wanted to do it again – that and other things. But Cami – she had other ideas.No more physical stuff between us.

Logically, I agreed. We'd be smart to call it a one-time thing and move on.

Hell, it shouldn't have happened the first time.

And yet, I wasn't feeling very logical, not when it came to Cami. In a careful voice, replied, "I remember."

"And when Livia asked if the two of us were an item, you said, 'yes.' You rememberthat, too, right?"

Oh yeah.I remembered all too well. It had been messing with my head ever since. The truth was, I hadn't meant to say it. But once I'd thrown it out there, I hadn't wanted to take it back.

This, too, was messing with my head.

I'd been on travel for two days now, and I'd been corresponding with Cami by text – not about us, but about household stuff, checking in on Willow and her schedule.

At least a dozen times, I'd pulled out my phone, intending to call Cami and hash things out between us. There was just one problem.

For the first time in years, I didn't know what to say.

And the thing Ishouldbe saying – that she was right to make it a one-time thing – well, it wasn't sounding so good. But neither was anything else.

My fault. Not hers.

I'd grown up in a messed-up household, with parents coming and going even when they promised to stay.

And me?I was majorly fucked up.

I knew this, just like I knew I wasn't capable of love – or at least, not the romantic kind.

And why?It was because I didn't believe in it.

Love was just a word. It was the term people threw around when they wanted to make someone feel better about their own shitty choices, or when they wanted to bang some boxer in Miami instead of staying in town to care for their own family.

In my mind, I could still hear my mom telling me, "But I love him" as Willow slept in the second-hand crib a few feet away.

At the time, I'd been twenty-one. I'd been too old to be living at home, except I was the one paying the bills and making sure my brothers kept out of trouble, especially Chase, who kept raising hell, even while taking marketing classes at the local college.

But me? I'd skipped college entirely and gone straight to work – learning the tool-and-die trade while forming the raw foundation of what would later become Blast Tools.

Finally, I'd been in the home stretch, ready to claim my freedom to go out on my own.

But then came Willow.

She'd been sweet and helpless – and cute as hell. But my mom had left for Miami anyway, telling me that she'd be back in a few days.

I'd known it was a lie.

It didn't take long before I was proven right.

Again.

If that was love, I wanted no part of it.

On the phone, Cami asked, "Are you still there?"