“No, I know.” His fingers stretch anxiously, so I grab them. He’s clammy, squirmy. “That’s a good point. Thanks, Field.”

“Breathe,” I say calmly, and grab and massage his hands until they stop shaking.

He jumps up and down like a kid at recess. “This feels right. Whatever happens when we go home.” Then, the big oaf pulls me into a bear hug and squeezes.

“I need to ask you something. About Ricky.”

He releases me. “Oh boy.” He takes a step back.

“Did he call you back in January?”

“I’m sorry, Field, I should’ve told you. I didn’t want it to ruin your progress. You were doing so well without him. You were finally over him.”

“I was never over him, Matty.”

“You know what I mean. You were doing things on your own. You were happy again. You were entering this, like, new phase of Fielder Lemon, always going out. Filming content. Working out. You were like this new and improved version. Everybody loved you; you were blossoming. I know you had this plan to win him back, I get it, I do, but I wanted to protect you. That’s all. ”

Shaking my head, I say, “You didn’t give me a chance to make that decision for myself, Matty.”

“I know, I know. I am sorry. I should have.”

“You should have.” I give him the finger, then look at him square in the eyes. “But thank you. I think you were right. I don’t think I would have been ready yet.”

His pupils dilate. “Oh? Wasn’t expecting that one.”

I laugh. “I love you, brother.”

“For what it’s worth, Ricky looks at you like he’s still in love with you.”

“For what it’s worth, Nic looks at you like he’s about to be your first.”

He jumps up and down again. “Thanks again. I’ll let you know when he leaves so you can come back.”

I don’t plan on coming back. I want Matty to have the best night of his life, and I’m willing to sleep on the floor if it means he gets that.

“Oh! Did you bring condoms?” he asks.

“Black bag.” I nod toward the Dopp kit on the counter near the sink. “I don’t know if they’ll fit, but have at ’em.”

“They’ll fit; I saw what you’re working with. Maybe a bit tight,” Matty jests.

I shake my head. “Just don’t do anything on my bed.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Matty salutes me.

On my way out, I throw on a shirt and grab some PJs, my toothbrush, and my phone charger, tossing it all into a cute cross-body I got for Christmas.

Wandering aimlessly, I wish I could go to Ma’s suite for guidance and advice, but I can’t; the Coven is far too smart, and they’ll sniff out Matty’s date on me, draw it out like a nurse draws blood.

Maybe I can go to Topher’s room, but I don’t want Sienna to know what’s going on in my head, and while I’ve historically relied on Topher’s secrecy, I can’t exactly tell him to keep it secret from his soon-to-be wife.

Monroe and Tyler aren’t back from what I’m sure must be an epic date, so Benny is my last option.

But he’s not in his room, so I try the pool.

“Ben—Ohhha—”

You know who looks eerily similar to Benny with his shirt off and sunglasses, lying on his stomach with his curly head turned to the side so I can’t see his face?

Cam Wallace.

“Hey, Fielder!” Cam sits up and rolls over, his oily abs glistening. He swings his legs over the side so he’s sitting upright and facing me head-on and pats the lounger next to him, beckoning me over.

Here we go.

There’s a tray of leftover delizia al limone from dinner the other night on a side table next to him. Nothing like a sweet lemon cake with custard, a trademark Amalfi dessert, left out to melt in the hot afternoon sun, beads of sweat populating its surface.

“Moving out?” Cam nods to my crossbody bag.

“I, um. . .” I negotiate exactly what to tell him. I don’t know Cam, so I can’t trust him with Matty’s business.

Cam’s sunglasses fall to the bridge of his nose. “It’s okay, I saw Matty bring that hottie back.”

Still, I neither confirm nor deny.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks. “About Ricky?”

Oh, now this is a conversation I really want no part of. Have they spoken yet? Did Cam come clean about hooking up with a rando? I hold my breath.

“Ricky told me he spent the day with you.”

“He did?” I don’t know why I’m nervous. It’s not like we did anything wrong.

“Can I—I know this is weird to come out and ask, but I have to know because he’s acting so weird.” Cam is trembling. “Did something happen between you guys?”

I exhale. “Between me and Ricky?”

“It’s the only thing I can think of because ever since I got back, he won’t look at me or talk to me, and all I keep thinking in my head is my boyfriend spent the last two days in the most romantic place on earth with his ex-boyfriend, and I know I fully freaked yesterday and bowed out of today and that’s why Ricky ended up with you, but it’s also, like, the pressure of seeing your two families together and knowing that I don’t have the history with Ricky like you do.

How can I compete, you know? So I . . .” He shrugs, stops himself just short of admitting a secret I know he’s carrying, but he doesn’t know I know.

Oh, the tangled webs of a cheater.

He looks at the sad, sad plate of delizia al limone.

“It’s like you’re this lemon crème br?lée thing, and I have the depth of Jell-O.

” I don’t bother correcting Cam’s food metaphor—though sidenote, reader, it’s a sponge, not a crème br?lée, but I digress.

“I can’t compete. I know you’re in love with him.

” Hearing Cam say it out loud hits me like a Mack truck, somewhere between coming out of the closet and the teacher catching you pass a “will you go out with me, yes or no?” note to your crush in the middle of class that they proceed to read out loud.

“You had your chance, and I can’t lose him, Fielder.

He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.

” I so badly wish he looked like the cartoon villain version I have of him in my head, but instead he looks sad, desperate.

As much as I want to hate Cam, I know how he feels.

I am Cam.

“Ricky deserves to be happy, whatever that looks like for him,” I say softly.

For the first time since we broke up, I admit it’s okay if Ricky and I are happy even if it means we don’t end up together.

— I don’t want that!—

Unlike Cam, I’ve realized I can live without Ricky, and that sends shock waves through my body; goose bumps spread down my arms.

I know I’ll regret what I’m about to tell Cam, but I do it anyway. “Ricky responds to honesty, so if it makes a difference, just be honest with him.” I’m not sure what else to say, so I let that linger in the air and hope it lands somewhere. “If it makes a difference, nothing happened between us.”

As I walk away, I hear him exhale.