Page 9

CHAPTER EIGHT

Cameron

With a squeal, I toss the Ziploc full of plastic forks back in the bag and dash across the quad the moment my parents come into view.

My dad smiles wide, his arms already outstretched, and I jump, letting him catch me and twirl me around the way he always does.

He chuckles, lowering me back to my feet, and I tear away instantly, wrapping my arms around my mom’s neck, hugging the life out of her before moving back to my dad.

He smiles, his whiskers scratchy against my face. “And here I thought you didn’t need me and your mama anymore.”

“Pshh. Yeah right.” I tug back, smiling at the two of them. “Who else is going to pay my tuition?”

My dad laughs loudly, slinging his arm around my mom and tugging her closer as I start to lead them toward the quad.

I wrap my arm through my dad’s free one, smiling down at the two of them. “How’s Zeus?”

“He’s getting grayer around the whiskers but still bringing your mama mice as gifts when she’s trying to relax on the back deck.” My dad grins when my mom makes a face.

“Don’t make that face, Mother dear. You’re going to cry like a baby when I take him after I graduate.”

I don’t realize what I said until both my parents’ feet falter, and they turn to look at me fully. Shit.

My mom’s features soften, and she reaches out to take my hand. “So you’ve decided? You’re moving out right after graduation?”

“I mean…” I look for an out. Moving out wasn’t exactly what I was thinking, but I don’t want to get into that yet. “Look, it’s not like it’s happening tomorrow. It’s only September, and I’ve still got another year after this and?—”

“Pumpkin, it’s all right.” My dad tries to smile reassuringly, but it just looks a little sad. “We’ve known since you were two feet tall that the pigs and chickens wouldn’t be enough for a girl with a heart the size of a blue whale.”

My scowl is instant. “I love the farm.”

“I know, but we moved to the house in town for a reason. You’re a people person, Cameron, and we’ve known that for a long time.” He pauses, looking over at my mom. “Actually, your mama and I have been talking about selling the house, moving back to the one on the property.”

My face falls, my eyes instantly finding my best friends across the yard. “You’re selling the house?” They’re moving onto the farm property?

“Don’t look so sad. We both know if you’re not coming home, Ari isn’t coming home. Hell, I’d be surprised if any of you do since you’re all sharing the beach house in Oceanside.”

Sadness fills me at the thought of not going back to my childhood home, my best friend’s place just a skip away, but I get it and it makes sense. I look back to my mom and dad. “You know”—I cock my head—“I should have seen this coming.”

My dad smiles, wrapping his arm around me and steering us over to where Ari has finished unpacking the bag we brought of paper products, spreading them out along the picnic tables piled with items others contributed.

“Hi, guys!” Ari beams, hugging my parents and pointing them in the direction of where hers are already settled alongside Brady’s, Deaton the center of attention as he runs between them, forcing them all to take chip after chip that he offers .

“Man, to be a baby who can make anyone do anything that they want.” I sigh dramatically and Ari chuckles, hip checking me. “You bummed your boo thang isn’t here?”

Her smile grows a little sad, and she looks out across the quad, gaze settling on her brother manning one of the many grills, as per usual, Payton at his side.

“Last year was tough, but with everything going on with Mason, me, and Payton, I had a distraction. This year though…” She pinches her lips to one side.

“I mean we’re only a few weeks into the semester now and I just feel like I’m?—”

“Swear to god, if you say missing half your soul or something else super Hallmark like that, I might actually vomit, and the wedges I’m wearing are way too cute for that.”

The longing melts off Ari’s expression and she grins, both of us smiling softly, no words needing to be said.

She knows I know what she means, even if I can’t possibly understand how it must feel to be apart from someone you’d literally cut your heart out for and hand it to them if the situation demanded it.

She sighs, but it’s not a gloomy sound, and wraps her arms around me. “Thanks, Cam.”

“Welcome, sister. What am I good for if not the art of distraction? Now let’s go rescue the ’rents before Deaton fills them up on Funyuns.”

She laughs, and we make our way over, dropping down into the grass between our parent’s chairs, and chat about school, their work, and every other random topic that comes up.

About half an hour later, Chase returns from picking up his parents at the airport.

“Chase, honey, it’s so good to see you!” Ari’s mom jumps up, always the first to take her “second children,” as she calls us all, into her arms. She holds on to him a moment longer than she did us, and I know it’s because she senses he needs it.

We like to joke Brady is more like her than his own mom, what with his perceptive-ass self .

I sneak a peek at Ari, and she meets my gaze, her shrug only noticeably to me.

I wonder if it’s because she still feels for Chase after everything that went down between him, Ari, and Noah our freshman year.

Ari’s mom whispers something, and he nods, pulling back with a soft smile.

Chase makes his rounds, saying hello to everyone else.

I glance around for his parents, but it’s Brady who hops up from his spot on the grass opposite me. “You lose your parents from the parking lot to here?” He lifts baby Deaton and puts him on his massive shoulders.

Chase’s chuckle is tense, and he nods toward the buildings. “Nah, they paused at the restrooms. They’ll be over here in a minute. I’m going to see if Mase is ready for a break.”

“We’ll come too,” Brady offers, and his dad pushes to his feet so their standing side by side.

The difference between them is stark and always makes me smile.

While Brady is built like a heavy-weight champion, wide and broad along the shoulders, tapering down into a thick, strong waist, his dad stands about five inches shorter than him, his build more that of a runner.

He’s lean, and while he is very fit for his age, he looks skinny in his shirt and jeans when side by side with his son.

He’s a military man with impeccable posture and his son basically has a master’s in that hot, lazy-man slouch. I have never seen Ben slouch.

Like me, Brady got his hair and eye color from his mother, though I’m tall like my dad. Genetics are fascinating, and the thought has my eyes lifting to the dark-haired baby boy on Brady’s shoulders.

He has the eyes of his mama, but his hair is the shade of his biological dad.

What if I never get the chance to see what my child would look like ?

“Brady Lancaster,” Ari’s mom shouts, pulling me from my thoughts. “You be careful with my grandson up there like that.”

“Yeah, Jack the Giant, careful.” I grin. “His little legs can hardly curl around those massive delts.”

“I’ll show you giant!” he shouts back.

“Brady!” all the moms scold at once, making the rest of us laugh.

His mother sighs, shaking her head, but there’s a smile on her lips. When her attention moves back this way, her eyes pop over my shoulder. Two seconds later, she’s elbowing my mom the way I do Ari.

Both of them look to me, my mother’s sly smile making me anxious.

“What?”

She lifts a shoulder, sitting back in her chair.

“Mom!”

“You’ll have to look if you want to know, but I will say, that dessert table is looking mighty…appetizing.”

Now I glare at the pair, and they laugh harder, lifting their drinks to their lips.

Ari looks between us three, trying to put it together, when she too spots something over my shoulder. She sighs and I tense at the sound.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” I mumble, but our mothers have the ears of bats, and they lean in.

“Him?”

“Him who?”

“Are you seeing someone?”

All our nosy-ass moms fire off questions at once, eyes glittering.

But I only wait for my friend to confirm my assumption, which comes as a low, “Yep.”

Vivian squints. “He looks familiar.”

“He looks divine,” my mom mutters .

My mouth drops open with a laugh. “Mom! OMG, you guys, stop staring.”

“Why? He hasn’t.”

“Look how bold he is.” Brady’s mom smirks. “Ben was like that. Drilled me with his eyes before he drilled me with his…well.”

Everyone laughs, one even sputtering from me before I can stop it.

“You horny old bags.” I squirt them all with Deaton’s abandoned water gun, and they squeal, jumping up and moving back, gaining the attention of the others.

I smile at them and then the men in our lives, their laughter a comforting sound.

Mason calls out that the chicken is done, so we move over to grab some plates.

This is the third annual cookout the football team has hosted that we’ve been a part of, something we were told the team has been doing for decades now.

It’s when the team comes together with open invites for friends and family, and we all hang out, making or bringing our fave dishes to share, potluck style.

An hour or so passes when my mom catches my eye, a gleam in hers. “Cammie, honey, let’s go get some of that homemade ice cream I see over at the dessert table.”

My eyes narrow on her and my dad chuckles, patting my head. “Help your mama get some ice cream, pumpkin.”

“And by that you mean don’t forget to bring you some back?”

My dad grins. “Perks of having a child. I no longer have to get my own shit, and I haven’t had a chance to reap the benefits of all those years of hard work in a while.”

Mason’s dad fights a laugh and my dad’s eyes crinkle in amusement at his own comment, his words finally clear in my own damn mind.

“Ugh! Dad!” I cover my ears. “Do you want me to bleach my ears? ”

Payton smiles, looking between us in question, and Ari takes pity on her.