Coincidentally Kismet

14. Will

CHAPTER 14

WILL

“CLOSER” - THE CHAINSMOKERS I hope that you will not damage any of her God-given gifts today. I have big plans for her future, and I expect her to be physically and emotionally intact on Monday,” Daveed warns.

“Yes, sir. Cam’s...Well, she’s important to me. I intend to take very good care of her,” I explain, stumbling over my words. He just raises his brow at me in a look that tells me no matter what I say, he already knows I’m in really deep trouble with this one.

Cam sweeps into the lobby slash hair-doing area (I don’t know what the hell it’s called). The air whooshes out of my lungs. She has on those legging things that women like to work out in, except hers are camo and there are sections that look like mesh, so you can see parts of her skin through them. She’s paired them with a fitted black tank top—I guess that’s what I’d call it, but it’s practically a freaking bra. It stops about an inch above where her leggings start, exposing a sliver of milky soft skin. Her hair has been thrown up into a flowy ponytail. My palms itch, wanting to reach out and grab it.

“Okay, I’m ready now. Lead me to my impending doom,” she says with a grin. Her doom? I was screwed just by asking her to do this, and now she shows up like some Rambo Barbie ready to compete as my partner. The worst part is, I know she’s even more beautiful on the inside.

Friends, man...We are just friends. I need to lock down my feelings. Today is too important for me to get distracted by things I can’t even begin imagining how to handle.

We get in the car, and I gently toss Cam her sandwich before taking off.

“Oh, Antonio’s. I love this place...Well, I used to anyway.” Cam’s voice falters.

“Is there something wrong with Antonio’s?” It’s always been reliable and delish as far as I’ve known, but she looks like she might be sick.

“Oh no. It’s fine. Great, actually. I just had an epically bad date there not too long ago, and I may not be able to show my face there for a while.” Glancing at me tentatively, she dives into her sandwich, moaning about how good it is. My heart is beating erratically from her admission—and from the sounds she’s making. I bite down on my lip to keep myself from saying anything about her dating life. She’s not yours. She can date if she wants to.

Cam and I walk up to the registration tent, and the look on her face tells me it was a mistake to bring her here. Her skin has turned three shades of pale, and her cheeks are puffed out like she may throw up as she assesses the obstacle course sprawled out in front of us. I tell the lady at the check-in table our names. She gives us race bibs and thanks us for participating.

Of course, I’m going to participate. This charity provides much-needed mental health services and supplies to soldiers struggling with PTSD. I used to think that was weak and that this fundraiser was some sort of ploy to help the guys who just couldn’t hack it. But that was before we lost Thatch. I’ve seen first-hand the damage that being overseas can do to a person, and I’m more committed to doing this race than ever before. Cam doesn’t know that, of course. She thinks this is just something I’m required to do for work.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was going to be facing the endurance challenge of a lifetime prior to my wolfing down an entire sub?” Cam asks, clear annoyance etched across her beautiful face.

“You didn’t ask,” I respond, trying and failing to look clueless.

“Are you freakin’ kidding me? Is this some weird version of Punk’d ? Where’s Ashton Kutcher?” she spits back at me.

Oh boy, she’s pissed. I didn’t think this through. I just thought she would show up and her competitive side would kick in. I assumed she’d be a boss like always.

“No Ashton here. Just you, me, and about four hundred other people. I didn’t think I’d ever see the day that you’d shy away from a challenge.” I wave my arm around, pointing out all of the other racers.

“Excuse me? I’m not shying away from anything, Rambo. But don’t blame me if I puke all over you.” She huffs and crosses her arms in defiance. There’s my competitive girl. Correction: not mine .

“I guess if you throw up on me, we’ll have to rinse off.” I wink just to rile her up. and my stomach fills with a flurry of butterflies at the mention of showering together. A whoosh of anxiety quickly follows, making my vision go blurry. I have to stop thinking about her in that way. I can’t go there , I remind myself.

“You have fun with that shower. It’ll be a lonely one,” she scoffs, then mumbling something about not being able to fit with another person since she’s gained a little weight.

I opt not to mention it, but Cam thinking that she is anything short of perfection is so unfathomable to me. She’s the kindest person I know—I’ve seen her literally give the last dollar she has to a friend who forgot their lunch money. When did she get so unsure of herself? She’s never been one to be arrogant about how downright breathtaking she is, but she also never talked badly about herself. In fact, when I used to put myself down after my parents’ divorce, she half-heartedly threatened to beat me up (like she could) if I didn’t immediately treat myself better.

Cam always said that if you can’t be kind to yourself, then how could anyone else be expected to be kind to you. She has a way of making people want to be better versions of themselves. She talks about weird shit, like seeing a light in you and your ability to change the world, one person or smile at a time. Did I damage her so much that she became more like me? Does she hold these insecurities now because I broke her heart? Or did something else happen to Cam along the way, after I left? I need to get to the bottom of it, but right now, it’s more urgent that I convince her somehow to compete and help me win this thing. For Thatch.

Risking pissing her off further, I gently put my thumb under her chin, coaxing her to look up in my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you exactly what we were doing here, but I thought you’d assume given the attire I told you to wear...Oh, and the fact that I referred to it as ‘sporty,’ which is something I don’t say, like ever. You’ll do fine. I need you to harness that rage and help me win, can you do that? You can be mad at me later,” I negotiate, my fingers tingling from where they touched her skin. The physical connection between us is undeniable, even though I vow to deny it.

“Fine, but I was serious when I said you owe me, Rambo. The only reason I’m doing this is because you seemed desperate, and I’m just nice enough to not let you flunk out of this...well, whatever the hell this is,” she says with the most dramatic eye roll. It should worry me, but instead I am reassured that she still won’t back down from a competition.

We make our way over to the starting line and catch up with the rest of the group. Lo tells Cam how hot she looks. Yep, I agree, Lo. Thanks for noticing and reminding me. Butler gives her a hug, apparently also noticing this blonde smokeshow next to me, and mouths, You owe me , over her shoulder. He doesn’t want me to forget how he backed away from flirting with her that first night at the bar, because of bro code. I grab her hand just as the gun sounds, and we’re off. Here’s to hoping we actually make it through this. And that she doesn’t kill me when it’s over.