Page 5 of Best Laid Plans (Rock Harbor #1)

Sometimes, the worst part when looking back at friendships that had drifted apart was accepting that there was no moment. No line in the sand when everything had changed. No big blowout or meltdown to signal the end.

Becca had gotten pregnant before their senior year of college, the same summer that Elle had stayed in Boston to complete an internship.

She’d already felt them drifting, even if she’d told herself that Becca would finish at the college she’d been attending locally and save up enough money working at the inn so that they could make a go of it in Boston together.

When Becca had decided to keep the baby, the door on their plans had closed.

But Elle had been insistent to herself that she could make their friendship work.

She’d come home to throw Becca a baby shower, coordinating between her finals and her new job’s start date and moving into her new apartment in Boston to make sure that she could be around.

But at some point along the way, they’d strayed too far away from one another to find their way back.

“We should grab a coffee sometime,” Becca said, filling the silence that had stretched between them.

Elle didn’t know if it was one of those platitudes that people who’d once known one another said or if Becca really meant it. Even so… “I’d like that. I’ll be in town for at least the next few weeks.”

She didn’t miss how Becca’s brows lifted curiously. “Already making your own hours?”

Elle laughed, but she knew it sounded fake.

She wasn’t ready to get into that with Becca quite yet.

Maybe if coffee actually materialized, she’d unburden herself and spill all the idiotic decisions that had led her life to its current trajectory.

“Something like that. Is your number still the same?” Elle pulled out her phone which, miraculously, hadn’t been damaged in the fall.

Becca nodded.

“Great.” Elle slid her phone back into the pocket of her shorts. It almost made it worse, somehow, that the line of communication hadn’t been closed, not really.

They’d both just decided not to use it.

On her walk home, she couldn’t stop thinking about Becca, wondering about all the things she’d missed in her former best friend’s life over the last few years.

And Zoe. She’d gotten so big. Elle had been there when she’d been born.

A tiny, crying bundle that had terrified Elle with the weight of responsibility that bringing her into the world would mean for her best friend.

She’d promised to be there for Becca, and she hadn’t kept good on that promise .

So, instead of making the same mistake again, as the restaurant came into view and the past and present blurred together, remembering all the times they’d shared together, she texted Becca to see when she’d be free to catch up.

Elle trudged up the steps, like a soldier returning from battle. Seeing Becca had completely blindsided her, things she hadn’t thought about in years stirring around in her mind.

On the ten-minute walk home, she hadn’t thought about losing her job or her apartment or having to deal with Cam when she got back to her brother’s house.

She’d thought about Becca over the years, which made sense given how much they meant to one another at one point. But now, she just felt… sad.

The door was still unlocked when she turned it, and Wyatt, like a good Mr. Fixer Upper had the hinges greased so well that she didn’t make a sound.

Looking down at her phone while she walked, she scrolled through her emails. No responses to her job applications. Her lack of employment was a boulder dropped in the middle of the road that was her life. Without a job, she had zero possibility of finding a new place in the city.

Even amidst her wallowing, she’d still been sending out at least a dozen resumes a day. No bites. Not even a sniff of interest.

Still, she’d keep at it. Plan for her life back in Boston, though she needed to take care of things here, too. Today was the day she’d promised herself that she’d see her parents. And while that was still definitely on the docket, she needed to shower and then take a nap first.

But when she looked up, every single plan she’d ever had seemed to float away like an unanchored boat drifting out to sea. Cam was coming out of the bathroom, an incredibly soft-looking towel slung around his hips. It was bright white, and it pulled her attention. Clearly, it was eye-catching.

And then she couldn’t help it, her eyes naturally following the contours of his body, the long lines of defined muscle running down his arms, which had been impossible to see in the hoodie he’d shown up in last night.

And his abs… fuck. Elle hadn’t actually seen abs that sculpted on a guy in real life before.

She felt her pulse thrum steadily between her legs, and realizing she was wearing nothing but a pair of short shorts, quickly pushed them together to alleviate the pressure.

God, she really needed to get laid. It had been two years at this point, and now she was like a dog with a bone. Pure, unadulterated physical attraction outpaced her brain’s clear dislike of Cam and his judgmental but perfectly symmetrical face.

It was a real shame that he insisted on constantly getting it hit.

“Are you looking at my abs?” He was leaning against the doorframe, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth so the words came out a little garbled.

Get it together, Elle , she begged herself.

It was clear he liked the effect he was having on her, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

She walked over to the end table where she’d left her earbud case and placed them back inside.

“I’m just wondering if you can trust a chef with a stomach like that.

Feels like your food can’t be that good. ”

“If your palate consists of popcorn and instant ramen, I’m sure you wouldn’t enjoy it. Other people seem to disagree with you, but I’m sure they just aren’t as evolved .” He enunciated the last word, his lips tipping into a self-satisfied smirk that immediately got under her skin.

“What happened to us staying out of one another’s way?

” Elle asked, trying to find her footing in the conversation.

In spite of knowing that she didn’t like the man standing in front of her, it was hard to remember why keeping her distance had seemed like a good idea.

Every molecule in her body was screaming otherwise, and she had to physically root herself in place.

“Oh, should I apologize for being drive-by objectified? Feels a little victim blamey to me, Elle. If the roles were reversed, you’d call me a pervert. Hell, you’d probably get the bat again.” His biceps flexed when he shrugged, and Elle gritted her teeth.

Oh right, because Cam was an insufferable prick. A really hot prick, but still, a prick nonetheless.

And she’d had her fill of men who looked perfect on the outside but were nothing but rotten on the inside. A real gilded turd if you asked her.

But she didn’t consider herself an especially violent person.

And she had hit him pretty hard last night, not that he’d ever admit it.

She was going to be the bigger person, in spite of Cam’s behavior.

“Listen, Cam. I am sorry for hitting you with the bat.” Her gaze drifted over to one of the biceps in question, a diagonal bruise wrapping itself around his otherwise unblemished skin.

She winced, realizing how much that would have hurt.

“But I didn’t know you were coming. I was here alone, and I was scared. Okay?”

Something shifted in Cam’s eyes then, his face growing tight before it relaxed, and he moved his hand up to massage his bicep. “I forgot that you played tennis through college. You’ve still got a mean swing.”

“Was that… a compliment?” She covered her heart with her hand, feigning shock and trying not to look at where his fingers pushed insistently against his skin. “I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”

“I figured it would even out the insult about your taste in food since you did apologize for hitting me. We’re still out of whack on the objectification though.

” His gaze dropped down her body before sliding back up to meet her stare.

Darkening eyes leveled at Elle made her heart hammer a little harder.

This morning, all she’d been thinking about was getting out of the house, which had meant that she’d miscalculated this moment, gravely.

Now, she was standing in front of him in a pair of shorts that barely qualified as outerwear and a tank top that had been less snug ten pounds ago, realizing how her chest pushed against the scoop neck.

A decade ago, Cam Devers looking at her like that would have been the stuff of journaling dreams.

But she wasn’t her teenage self. And goddamnit, she had enough dignity not to drool over an asshole, even if he did have rock hard abs.

The problem wasn’t that Cam was hot, she told herself. It’s that they were both competitive. She couldn’t let him win, even if they were technically even right now. Regardless of what Cam thought.

She folded her arms across her chest, pushing her boobs closer together, perilously close to spilling out of her top.

It was a cheap shot and a cheap thrill–for her, at least–but she wasn’t above playing a little dirty to get what she wanted.

And right now, she wanted to get the better of Cam.

He wasn’t going to come in here and walk around like he owned the place.

“Do you feel like we’re even now,” she asked, her voice a breathy, unexpected pitch as Cam’s eyes continued to roam across her face.

“You have gorgeous lips.” His gaze stayed fixed above her collarbone, mapping her mouth before he flicked his focus upward to meet her stare. Cam’s voice had slipped into a deeper timber, and the sound, in spite of every rational thought in her brain, made her body ache.

Elle managed to roll her eyes but couldn’t stop the flush that she knew was working itself across her exposed skin. “You don’t even like me.”

He moved quickly, and Elle forgot how to breathe when she thought he was going to stop in front of her. He didn’t. Instead, he continued across the living room and then turned around when he reached his bedroom door. “And I’m sure the feeling’s mutual.”

Elle felt his door shut as much as she heard it, and she let out a deep breath, wondering what in the hell had just happened?