Chapter 11 #2
I’m relieved when Owen returns with the beers, ignoring his amused smirk when he notices I’m no longer standing alone.
“Want to come over to my table for a bit?” Emily asks, twirling a strand of hair around one finger. “We could hang out, then head out …”
“Can’t tonight,” I tell her. “It’s guys’ night.”
Emily glances at my table. “Cammie’s there.”
“She’s friends with the guys.”
“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows you two hooked up.”
“Bye, Emily,” I say, then walk off.
When I make it back to the table, everyone except Cammie is grinning.
“Careful drinking that, man,” Wade comments as I hand Gus his beer. “Emily might have spit in it.”
“You should just fuck her, Cap,” Ricky tells me. “Then she’ll probably lose interest.”
I flip him off as I slide onto the open stool, hoping the guys will be the ones who lose interest and move on to another topic.
“What about you, Cammie?” Wade asks. “College guys treating you okay?”
Cammie nods. “I’m dating this guy from my business class. Luke. He’s great. I was hoping you guys could meet this weekend, but he headed home for the holiday.”
Relief spreads through me. At least one good thing came from tonight. She has moved on.
“That’s great, Cam,” I say quickly.
Too quickly.
Her head swivels to me. “I didn’t know it was so easy to get on your good side, Cap. You don’t want to meet him first? Ask a few threatening questions about his intentions? Any guy is good enough for me?”
The table is suddenly silent, a few of the guys exchanging awkward glances.
My grip tightens around the beer bottle. There’s a good chance the glass might crack. “Of course not. But you have good judgment, so if you like him …”
An uncomfortable silence lingers around the table as we all wait for Cammie’s response. She scoffs softly, then takes a sip of her drink.
I look at Gus. He shrugs a shoulder, not knowing what to do about the awkwardness either.
“I’m going to the restroom,” Cammie mutters, sliding off her stool and heading toward the back of the bar.
I sigh heavily. “Fuck.”
No one asks. They all know—like Emily said. I wasn’t just making bad decisions back then. I didn’t bother to hide a single one.
Wade clears his throat. “She’ll get over it.”
Will she? It’s been over a year.
I take a swig of beer, then stand and follow Cammie. There’s a small stage back here that sometimes gets used for live music or karaoke—a couple is currently making out against it—and a pool table.
A few minutes later, Cammie reappears. She sighs when she sees me waiting, approaching slowly.
“Can we talk outside?” I ask.
She nods, heading for the door. I trail behind, dreading the approaching conversation.
“I’m sorry,” I say once we’re outside.
She exhales, wrapping her arms around herself. “No. I am. I overreacted.”
“If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. That’s all I was trying to say.”
“I know.” Cammie swallows, glancing at the ground. “I’ve been … I’ve been waiting for you to change your mind. About us. Are you ever going to?”
I swallow, too, delaying the honest answer. “No.”
I said it softly, but she still flinches.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I never should have—”
“It wasn’t you. I wanted to. I knew you were hurting, that you’d been drinking that night.
I’m not even sure you knew it was me for most of it.
” She rubs the toe of her shoe in the dirt.
“I don’t want you to keep apologizing. Just …
I thought you’d finally see me differently after it happened.
And then I told myself you needed more time to come to terms with …
everything. But now … I guess I needed to hear you say it. To tell me to stop waiting.”
“It’s not you, Cammie. I’m fucked up after everything that happened. I can’t—I’m not capable of—”
“Lovers’ quarrel, Bennett?”
I stiffen, recognizing the voice. Spin slowly to face a smirking Brett Nichols.
He looks the same as the last time I saw him a year ago. He’s good-looking, I guess. The guy always gets plenty of female attention since he can be charming on the rare occasion he’s not acting like a prick.
“Just a private conversation, Nichols,” I reply evenly.
Brett glances past me. “Hey, Cammie. I didn’t recognize you at first. Figured you’d have stopped hanging around, begging for scraps of Bennett’s attention, by now.”
I clench and unclench my fists slowly, trying to rein in my temper.
“Fuck off, Brett,” Cammie retorts.
“I’d treat you a lot better than the so-called Captain ever did, sweetheart.”
“Did your new town toss you out too?” I snap.
Brett sneers, no longer looking so nonchalant. “Just visiting. I don’t stay where I’m not wanted, unlike some people.”
“Then go away because you’re not wanted here,” I tell him, turning away.
“Cap!” Cammie shouts.
But I’m ready, smiling wide as Brett shoves me against the side of the building. His right fist is already raised and cocked. Mine are by my sides. He wants a reaction. Wants to prove I’m exactly like my father—who ruined his. He can take as many cheap shots as he wants. I won’t hit him back.
“How’s the shoulder, Nichols? Still pitching softballs?”
“Heard you’re pitching nothing these days. That golden arm isn’t looking so good, Bennett.” Brett shoves me again, then steps away.
He’s here with two buddies, neither of whom I recognize. Probably new friends. According to rumors, he moved upstate with his mom after his parents divorced.
Brett stares at me, that maddening smirk still on his face. “You used to be more fun. Still too much of a pussy to punch, huh?”
“Let’s go, Cap.” Cammie appears beside me, glaring at Brett.
I step closer to Brett, effectively blocking her. I know I won’t swing, but he’s unpredictable. I don’t want Cammie to get caught in the fray.
“You’re not worth it, Nichols,” I say, then follow an anxious Cammie back inside.
I’m half expecting to get jumped from behind. But it never happens.
About damn time tonight improved.