Page 26 of Meeting Me, Loving You (Hearts of Maple Lake #1)

“You must not have had very good coffee then.” He sips from his paper cup, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “Like this one.” He puts the cup on a nearby end table. “It’s awful.”

This pulls a laugh from me, and suddenly, I’m not embarrassed that I’m a coffee snob. It’s funny to see Cam make such a horrified face, but I also feel bad he’s not enjoying it.

“Here, try this,” I say as I hand him my cup. “You’ll like it.”

Cam reaches for it. His fingers brush mine and I do my best to ignore it while my body feels the effects of the electric current running through my nerves .

He takes a tentative sip. His eyebrows shoot up as he looks at me, surprise written on his face.

“I told you,” I say cheerfully. “I used to get this here all the time. It’s the one thing they make really well. It’s made from scratch, not from instant packets. Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

I hurry back to the counter and order another hot cocoa for Cam. It doesn’t take long before it’s ready and I’m rushing back to where he sits. I hand him the cup and sit down beside him.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the hot cocoa from me with one hand. I trade with him, taking my original cup out of his other hand.

“Don’t thank me. I just didn’t want to have to share my hot cocoa,” I tease, throwing him a smile and taking a long drink.

“I wouldn’t dare come between you and your hot chocolate, Juliet Berns.” The way he says my name sends another flutter through my stomach, and I look away from him to hide my blush. On a shelf close to the fireplace, I spot a pile of board games and more than one deck of cards.

“Do you want to play a game?” I ask Cam, pointing toward the pile.

Cam sits forward, setting his cup down. “Sure, we have time. I have to warn you though, I can be pretty competitive.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t go easy on you,” I smirk at him and stand, grabbing a deck of cards.

“Oooh, okay,” he says, rubbing his massive hands together like he’s hatching some evil plan. “This is gonna be fun. What are we playing?”

Our eyes meet and for a second, I see the younger version of Cam, bright-eyed and overflowing with the thrill of competition.

When he and Tyler played football together, I’d get nervous watching all the boys slam into each other, helmets crashing and kids tumbling to the ground.

But Cam always looked just like this during a game.

His eyes were wild with anticipation, eager to play and ready to fight for a win.

When I blink, I no longer see my brother’s best friend or a fifteen-year-old kid who helped me with my homework.

Instead, I see a man, kind and successful, and handsome beyond belief.

His beard is trimmed close to his skin, and his hair lies in waves, a few rebellious strands hanging over his forehead.

The brown Henley he wears compliments the color of his eyes as it pulls tightly over his muscular shoulders, and he’s missing a hat today.

Cam always looks put together, and I envy the way he can so effortlessly look good in anything, while I took an hour this morning to decide on my simple outfit of jeans and a gray, long-sleeved V-neck tee.

“Have you ever played Slap?” I ask through my smile.

“Do you really think I could be friends with your brother and never have played Slap?” Cam says, eyebrows raised.

“You’re right, of course you know how to play.

” I sit down, leaving space between our bodies, and I start to shuffle and deal the cards between us, using the leather couch cushion as a table.

“Just remember, if there is just one random card between two matching cards, it’s called a sandwich and you have to slap it just like a normal match. ”

“Speaking of sandwiches—lunch when we get back?” He flips one of his cards and I follow suit, each of us taking turns laying a card on the pile facing up.

I lift my eyes to look at him as I straighten the cards in my hand. Cam does the same with his, waiting for my response.

We’ve been spending a lot of time together, which is nice. But I don’t want to give him the impression that we’re meant to be more than just friends. As lucky as I am to have a friend as attentive and adventurous as he is, I know the best thing for me is to keep it casual. Platonic.

Safe .

But is he asking me on a date? Probably not, since he acted so weird on the train. He just wants to be friends too, I conclude.

So, lunch would be safe. Lunch between platonic friends who are hungry for food is completely safe.

“Sure, Le Fou has some great sandwiches. And you can enjoy a coffee that doesn’t taste like watered down gasoline,” I say sarcastically as I lay down a card.

The eight of clubs is a match to his eight of hearts, and we both slap our hands down on the deck. He’s fast to notice the match, but I’m quicker, and my hand lands on the bottom, claiming the cards. His hand is massive compared to mine; it’s rough and solid, just like the rest of him.

We play Slap for the next few minutes until we hear the sound of the train whistle calling the passengers to board and head back to Maple Lake.

Quickly, we gather the cards and place the deck on the shelf, leaving them for the next family to spend their cold winter days playing card games at the lodge.