Page 53

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Cameron

I restack the boxes of diapers in the supply closet and add ointment to the rolling cart before closing the door, making my way to the changing stations.

After refilling each of the sizes, I move on to the wipe dispensers, filling them to the brim and snapping the lids closed.

Once all that is done, I put the cart back and head over to the laundry room to fold the blankets.

Stacking a massive pile in my hands, I place one on each cot.

“Those new blankets are so much better,” I tell Junie, picking up Abby when she gives me grabby hands.

I sway her slightly, and she giggles wildly. “Okay, so I finished the list, but I still have a half hour before I need to head back to my dorm. Is there anything else you need help with before I take off?”

“All good here, but maybe check with Granny Grace?”

“Yep.” I set Abby down next to the play kitchen and head toward the front. “See you next week, Junie!” I call before pushing through the swinging door into the check in, check out area.

Granny Grace is filling the cubbies with the little handprint turkeys the toddlers made earlier this week as I walk in. She looks up at me with a smile. “You headed off?”

“Almost. Just checking to see if you want some help first.”

“I’m all set in here. If you do anything else, I’ll be bored.”

I smile, hopping up on the counter behind her desk, noticing a vase full of pretty pink and white flowers. I run my pinky along the edge of one of the silky petals. “What are these, Granny Grace?”

She looks back, her expression soft. “Those are gardenias.”

The sentiment in her voice isn’t missed. “Are they your favorite?”

She nods. “Same ones my husband used to bring me every other Friday when he’d pick up his check. This is the first bunch I’ve gotten since Frankie passed. I about broke down when the deliveryman said they were for me.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“As was the gesture.” Her eyes gloss over, and she looks to the photo on her desk. “Unnecessary but appreciated more than words can say. I’m surprised with how long they lasted. That little feed packet sure did make a difference.”

“When did you buy them?” I wonder, bending slightly to see what they smell like. There’s a hint of spiciness I didn’t expect but not at all unpleasant.

When she doesn’t answer, I look over at her and find her staring at me with her head tipped slightly.

“Huh,” she says, then turns back to her task.

I smile as I hop down. Old women are so funny with their secret thoughts. Grabbing my bag from under the counter, I take my jacket off the hook and tug it on.

“Okay, well, I’m out of here. Have a nice Thanksgiving, Granny Grace.”

“You too, honey.”

I go to walk out, but as I pass her desk, I pause, taking a few backward steps, my eyes going to the photo.

Granny Grace is in her prime, maybe thirty years old with her handsome husband beside her as they lean against his old Chevy pickup, a bouquet of pink and white gardenias in her hands.

My heart does a little jump, and I yank my head around so I can look at the older woman, finding she’s watching me.

She smiles but says nothing, whistling as she gets back to work .

With one last wave, I leave the center and make the walk back to my dorm.

As I come up the small hill, I find the guys are already pulled against the curb, my bag hanging from Brady’s hands. He steps up to Mason’s Tahoe and puts it in the back, taking Ari’s from Chase and stacking it on top.

They turn toward each other and start talking. I’m almost to them when another car pulls up behind the two already parked there. Their teammates file out, shoving and laughing, all ready for a little break from campus.

Ari and Paige come out of the dorm doors and spot me, walking over.

“Hey!” Ari beams. “I don’t know if you want to run up and make sure you didn’t forget anything, but we grabbed both of the bags you put by the door.”

I nod, glancing over at the line of vehicles.

“Mase and Payton are on their way here in Payton’s car, and Brady’s driving the Tahoe with all of us. The others are split between the pickups, because one of the guys works at the pizza place part-time and couldn’t get his Saturday shift covered.”

“Sounds good.”

“Hey.”

We turn toward the guys.

“We’re ready to pile in when you are,” Brady tells us, but he’s looking at me. “I gave the others the address, so we don’t have to worry about following each other the whole way. They’re taking off now to hit the gas station.”

“Perfect.” Ari nods. “Well, let’s get ready so we can just roll out when Mase gets here. I want to be there before Noah.”

“Cool.” He nods, and Chase elbows him in the ribs, widening his eyes at his friend. Brady looks back to me then, and after a moment, a sigh leaves him.

“What?” I ask .

He sighs again. “We’re not the only ones who are going to be at the beach house this weekend.”

I chew the inside of my cheek, anxiety rolling off me in waves. On one hand, I don’t want him to jump to conclusions; on the other, I kind of want to see how he acts about it. “I know.”

His eyes narrow. “You know?”

I nod, trying to get a read on him, and if I’m right, it’s irritation and maybe a little disappointment that he’s feeling.

“All right.” He nods, frown pulling low. “No point in talking about it, then.”

Isn’t there?

The drive is like any other. We head out, stopping forty-five minutes later for food because boys “aren’t hungry” when you ask them but magically become so after ten minutes on the road.

Thankfully, we only stop one other time after that for gas, Deaton having passed out for the final stretch and allowing us to continue the rest of the way through.

The excitement cannot be tamed as we pull into the driveway, both Ari and I itching to get out and run inside our home away from home.

Brady has barely gotten the thing in park when we’re shoving the doors open and racing up the path to the front door, but while Ari runs to the front, I take off around the corner, running along the wraparound porch to the back and down into the sand.

I keep going until the sandy hill levels out and its nothing but ocean for miles.

I kick off my slides and hold up the legs of my sweatpants, not caring that my socks are getting wet, and walk right up to the water’s edge, letting myself fall back on my ass.

I drop back into the sand, smiling up at the sky, and pull in a full breath of salty ocean air.

“Cheater!” Ari screams from somewhere behind me and then she’s at my side, mimicking my position.

We sit there in silence, just enjoying being home.

“Ari?” I ask her after a moment .

“Yeah?”

“Promise me no matter where life takes us, we’ll use this house the way our parents intended.”

“You’re stuck with me forever, sister.” She grabs my hand, folding our fingers together.

We turn to face each other, sand imbedding itself in our hair, water from the wet sand soaking into my pants.

“Do you and Noah watch the sunset together?”

She nods. “We do. He has a spot he likes to go, somewhere his mom used to take him, but we haven’t been there since he left. Why?”

My lips curve but I just look up at the sky, a sadness slipping over me.

“Cam.” Ari smiles softly. “You ready for this?”

Inhaling until my lungs are stretched to the max, I nod. “As ready as can be.”

“Good. Because Noah just turned onto our street.”

Well then. Here we go.

We walk back to the house, chucking our socks on the deck and slipping inside with bare feet, sand in our hair, and wet spots on our pants. Ari runs straight through when she could have just gone around, throwing the door open and bursting outside.

I hold back, sliding my fingers through my hair, and tie it up in a quick, high pony, cringing at the wet, sandy strands clustered together. My leg begins to bounce, and I roll my eyes at myself, walking back the way I came and into the kitchen.

Lolli came over yesterday and waited for the grocery delivery to get here.

She was nice enough to not only put away the cold foods but the whole-ass load, so I go straight for a chilled Capri-Sun, making a mental note to walk down to the store tomorrow to get another box so an adorable little boy doesn’t catch me drinking all of his.

I stab the straw in, sucking the thing dry as I take inventory of what we’ve got in case I want to tiptoe down for something sweet in the middle of the night.

It’s a momentary break from the bittersweet undercut whirling in my stomach as I wait for our guests to come inside.

There’s a hint of excitement streaming through my veins, but right behind is an icy chill of anxiousness—of unease, because I know how this is going to make a certain man feel. In part I want to avoid that all together, but again…that anticipation is still there.

Huffing, I close the fridge, yelping when I find a man standing there. Not just any man but a man with familiar green eyes.

I cough, slapping at my chest. “What?—”

“You good?”

I jump out of my skin when a second person makes themselves known, whipping around and narrowing my eyes on a different man.

Brady’s brow jumps, and he speaks a slow, slightly fearful—as it should be—“What?”

I open my mouth, knowing what comes out is going to hurt someone’s feelings, probably my own, because what the actual fuck?

But before I can say a word, a figure appears over his shoulder, and my eyes slide that way.

They freeze there, and my heart gives a little nostalgic thump. Ever so slowly, I feel my smile stretch.

The third man to step into the room smiles back, arms opening wide in invitation.

“Trey.”

Brady

She did not just say what I think she did.

I want to turn around and see if my subconscious is conjuring some sort of fuckery, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from the girl in front of me, not when she’s smiling like that—with her whole body.

Her eyes are the brightest of blues, her cheeks stretched high and tinted a pretty pink. Her shoulders have gone lax.