Chapter 8
EIGHT
Camden
I lean against my truck, watching the entrance to Shelf Indulgence like a damn hawk.
Lymric is inside, finishing up her shopping trip with Lilou, and I’m counting down the seconds until she walks out that door.
It’s been two days since our last date. Two days where I’ve let her have space, let her hang out with her best friend, and let her think things through. But I’m done waiting.
She agreed to go out with me tonight, and that means that she’s mine for the rest of the evening.
The bell above the shop door chimes, and then there she is.
Fuck , she’s beautiful.
Her dark hair is pulled into a loose braid over her shoulder, her green eyes sharp even after a full day of shopping and walking around. She’s wearing a soft sweater and jeans, and even though I know she dressed for comfort, she still looks like the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.
She stops short when she sees me, her lips twitching. “You’re early.”
I smirk. “You look surprised.”
“Not at all. I think I know you well enough now,” she teases, walking toward me. “You’re like obsessed with me.”
“Totally obsessed,” I agree.
Her breath hitches at my response, just barely, but I catch it.
She rolls her eyes, trying to play it off. “Uh-huh. So, where are we going?”
I open the passenger door for her, ignoring the question. “You’ll see.”
She sighs but climbs in without arguing.
Progress.
I take her toRice, a casual Greek place in town I know she’ll like. Nothing fancy, no pressure—just good food and a chance for her torelaxaround me.
We settle into a booth near the back, and she flips through the menu while I watch her.
“So, this is your plan?” she asks, eyeing me over the top of the menu. “Distract me with gyros and hummus?”
I smirk. “Maybe.”
The waitress comes by, and Lymric orders a chicken pita with extra pickles and a side of fries. I get the same and order each of us a lemonade.
“You forgot your hummus,” I say, amused.
She lifts a brow. “So did you.”
“You going to start planning my meals now?”
She shrugs, sipping her water. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
I lean forward, locking eyes with her. “I’d let you, you know. If it meant you were sticking around.”
She stiffens.
Iknewthat would hit her. For a second, she doesn’t say anything. Just presses her lips together and looks away.
She’s running.
Even now, right in front of me , she’s running .
My heart sinks and I can feel myself starting to panic, to get angry. We’re so good together. How can she not want this? How can she not want me too. Just like I want her.
The waitress comes back with our drinks, and Lymric grabs her glass and holds onto it like it’s a lifeline.
I force myself to stay calm, to keep my voice level when I say, “Do you even know what you want, Lymric?”
She flinches like I just threw a grenade in the middle of the table.
“What kind of question is that?” she mutters, picking at her napkin.
“A real one.” I exhale, running a hand through my hair. “You love your job, I get that.
But what about me ? What about us ?”
Her throat bobs, and she doesn’t answer right away.
I hate that she doesn’t answer right away.
Finally, she sighs. “I like you, Camden.”
Something inside me snaps .
“ Like me?” I repeat, my voice dropping into something low and dangerous.
She shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable. “I mean?—”
“No.” I shake my head, cutting her off. “You don’t just like me, Lymric. Don’t lie to me. Don’t lie to yourself . Not about this.”
Her fingers tighten around her lemonade glass.
I lean in, my voice rough. “I love you.”
She sucks in a sharp breath.
I love the way her eyes go wide, the way her lips part in shock.
I don’t regret saying it.
I won’t regret saying it.
Because it’s true.
I’ve known it from the second I saw her, and I refuse to let her pretend she doesn’t feel it too.
“Camden,” she starts, but I don’t let her finish.
“Say it,” I demand, my jaw tight. “Say you don’t feel the same.”
She stares at me, her green eyes full of so many emotions I can’t read them all at once.
Her mouth opens—then closes.
And then?—
She grabs her purse and stands up.
My stomach drops .
“Lymric.”
“I need to go,” she blurts, barely looking at me.
“ No ,” I growl, standing too. “Don’t do this. Don’t fucking run from me.”
She swallows hard, shaking her head. “I just—I need to think , okay?”
I clench my fists. My whole body is wired with frustration, my chest so fucking tight it physically hurts.
But I let her go. I let her fucking go . Because she’s not ready. Not yet, and if I push too hard, I will lose her.
She walks out of the restaurant, and I stand there, fists clenched at my sides, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest.
The waitress stops by, looking hesitant. “Uh, do you guys still want the food?”
I nod stiffly. “Yeah. To go.”
She nods quickly and rushes off, and I sink back into the booth, dragging a hand down my face.
What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
Back at my place, I throw the takeout bags onto the counter and drop into a chair. Gunner pads over, his tail wagging, and nudges his head under my hand.
“Yeah, I know,” I mutter, scratching behind his ears. “She ran.”
He lets out a soft huff, resting his big head on my lap. I sigh.
She loves me. I know she does. She just won’t let herself say it. Won’t let herself believe it, and I don’t know how to fix that.
I don’t know how to make her see that I’m not asking her to change, that I don’t need her to choose between me and her career.
I just need her .
I stare at the wall, my jaw tight.
I have two choices.
I can wait. Let her come to me. Or I can fight for her.
And I’m a Marine. I don’t back down from a fight. I’m going to prove to her that this isn’t impossible. That she doesn’t have to be scared . That she can have both because she’s already my home.
Now I just have to wait and see what she’ll do and just pray that she’ll pick me, too.