Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
CAMERON
I hate to admit it, but Willow's growing on me. Smart, successful, single—she ticks every box my family thinks I need. And this weekend? My brothers might as well have worn T-shirts saying "Operation: Hook Cameron Up With Willow."
The kayaking setup was their first move.
I'd naturally assumed Tally and I would share one, until Silas oh-so-helpfully pointed out that "poor Willow" was all alone and needed a partner.
Then Max—that traitor—jumped in with some bullshit about wanting to paddle with Roman because of their "triathlon training schedule.
" Right. As if I couldn't see through that excuse to pair Tally with Celeste, leaving me no choice but to climb into a kayak with Willow.
The whole time, Max avoided my death glare while Silas smirked.
Subtle as a heart attack, these idiots. And Max?
Never thought he'd join the matchmaking schemes. Asshole.
I caught myself enjoying Willow's company out on the water, then immediately felt a stab of guilt.
When she tossed her head back and that musical laugh spilled out, something in my chest lightened.
She gets my jokes—the stupid ones, the dry ones, all of them—in a way most women don't. Tally appreciates my humor too, but with Willow it feels.
.. different. We ended up abandoning the kayaking for swimming, circling the overturned boat like sharks.
Every failed attempt to climb back aboard sent us into fresh fits of laughter, the kayak flipping and dunking us back into the water again and again.
Tennis doubles were next on the agenda. Perfect, I thought. I can partner with Tally and make up for the kayak situation. But Max had other plans.
“Cameron with Willow, Tally with Asher," he announced, clipboard in hand. My stomach knotted. This felt different than before—at least in the kayaks, Tally had been with her best friend. Now she was paired with Asher, who she barely knows.
"Actually, I think—" I began.
Silas caught my eye and mouthed, "Unanswered prayer," our code for hopeless causes.
Right. Tally doesn't want me. Willow does.
I resigned myself to my tennis partner, who turned out to be incredible. We demolished the competition, our high-fives and victory dance looking like we’d been a team forever.
Now I'm in the kitchen making dinner for everyone while Tally feeds Brinley.
Willow gets sent in to help me, and she's chopping vegetables as I stir the sauce for chicken parm—Tally's favorite.
I glance through the doorway at her bent over the high chair, that familiar ache spreading through my chest. Loving someone who doesn't love you back is its own special kind of torture, especially with Willow hovering nearby, clearly being pushed in my direction.
And, yes, I do love Tally. Desperately. But what is it they say?
If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with? Yeah, right.
Dinner gives way to the evening's entertainment, and I discover Willow at the piano.
Her fingers dance across the keys with practiced ease as she launches into "Piano Man.
" I can't help joining in, our voices blending in perfect harmony.
We flow from Billy Joel to Elton John, then Lady Gaga to Tori Amos, finishing with Radiohead's "Creep” and “Karma Police.
" Something clicks between us—a musical shorthand that feels eerily familiar, as if we've been performing together for years.
Later, I find Tally alone on the deck, her face tilted toward the stars.
When she turns and smiles at me, my stomach twists.
I'd been half-hoping for jealousy, for some sign that seeing me with Willow all day had bothered her.
That smile—so genuine, so uncomplicated—leaves me more confused than ever.
Tally's lips quirk into something not quite a smile. "So, Willow, huh? You two planning a big weekend?" She punches my arm with just enough force to sting.
"Yeah," I manage, searching her face. "I was going to?—"
"Listen, Cam." Her voice catches. She blinks rapidly, those beautiful eyes suddenly glassy. "I want you happy. That's all." She turns away, but not before I catch the tremor in her jaw.
The lake stretches before us, black and still. Tally leans further over the railing.
"You deserve everything good," she finally says, voice steadier now. "And I can't be that for you. When I see you with Willow, I see possibilities. Real ones."
“Tally, I don’t want-”
She tilts her head back. "Stars are something else out here."
"They are. Tally?—"
"Don't." Her tattoos seem darker against her suddenly pale skin.
"Take Willow out. Give it a real shot. Brinley and I will manage.
She's sleeping through most nights now anyway.
" Her fingers trace invisible patterns on her jeans.
"The sooner you accept we're not happening, the sooner you find someone who can give you what you deserve.
And Cameron?" Her eyes meet mine. "You deserve everything. "
The baby monitor in Tally's hand crackles with Brinley's wails.
She catches my eye, then glances pointedly between me and Willow, who's just stepped onto the patio.
Her eyebrow lifts—a silent blessing I never asked for.
I sigh and tilt my head back. The night sky unfolds above us, exactly as Tally described: stars scattered like diamond dust across black velvet.
August perfection. Beside me stands Willow—all thick chestnut waves and compassionate eyes.
The pediatric oncologist. The woman Silas cornered me about earlier: "She's into you, man.
Like, really into you." On paper, we're perfect: two medical professionals dedicated to healing the most vulnerable.
Anyone who can hold the hands of cancer-stricken children day after day must possess a rare kindness.
My body responds to her—that's undeniable.
But my heart feels nothing of the electric current that shot through me the moment I first saw Tally across Max's wedding reception.
This feels like homework. That felt like destiny.
My pulse races as I clear my throat. "I was thinking, when we're back in LA, we could grab dinner, maybe catch a show? They're doing Death of a Salesman again—always been a favorite, despite the whole crushing-weight-of-failed-dreams thing."
There. Ball's in her court. Satisfied, Tally?
"I'd be into that," she replies with a quick smile.
"Silas mentioned you're taking time off from medicine.
My schedule's pretty fixed—four days on, three off, twelve-hour shifts—but we can make it work.
" Her fingers graze my forearm, sending electricity through my skin that my brain refuses to acknowledge.
I catch myself scanning the room for Tally instead.
She's probably in Brinley's bedroom right now, nursing the baby.
The living room holds only my brothers with their dates.
Dad and his new wife Patricia arrive tomorrow.
I spot the Trivial Pursuit box coming out through the patio doors. "We should head back in," I tell Willow, nodding toward the house. "Game night's starting." My pulse quickens slightly—random facts are my superpower, though Asher's encyclopedic brain makes victory nearly impossible.
Inside, Willow becomes my teammate alongside Max and Celeste, but something feels off as I take my seat.
The empty chair across from me seems to mock my situation.
I catch myself imagining Tally there instead of Willow—Tally high-fiving me over correct answers, Tally kayaking with me earlier, Tally waiting in my bed tonight.
The ache of missing her body against mine hits suddenly.
I understand her hesitation though; sex plus cohabitation equals commitment in her mind, and I've learned how quickly she bolts when feeling trapped.
When Asher says he wants to join, I can't help but groan. The guy's our resident genius—he absorbs information like those movie and TV characters who flip through books and instantly memorize every page. Think Reid from Criminal Minds or Will Hunting from Good Will Hunting. Yet this is the same man who regularly loses his phone even though it’s in his back pocket, who asks us if we’ve seen his sunglasses when they’re atop his head. Brilliant and hopeless simultaneously.
We divide into four teams: our foursome, Silas's group, Kalen's crew (including Ansel's insufferable girlfriend), and Asher flying solo—the only fair arrangement given his abilities.
Somehow, miraculously, our team clinches victory an hour later. As everyone celebrates, I realize Tally never returned after going to feed Brinley. I slip away upstairs and find them both asleep—Tally sprawled across the bed, Brinley peaceful in her crib.
I can't fight it anymore. Willow's been driving a wedge between us, and it's killing me. My body aches for Tally's touch like a man starved for oxygen.
I take Brinley out of the room and place her in the adjoining room. We can hear her through the baby monitor, so there’s no danger. But I need my daughter out of the room because I’m determined to ravage her mother and I don’t want to scar her for life.
"Hey," I growl against Tally’s ear as I get into bed next to her, the heat of my breath stirring her from sleep.
She jolts awake and I immediately claim her mouth, my tongue seeking hers with urgent need.
Her lips part beneath mine as she arches against me, the thin cotton of her nightshirt doing nothing to hide the heat of her skin.
She responds with a soft moan, her fingers digging into my neck, pulling me closer until there's nothing between us but sweat and desire.
Then suddenly she tears away, chest heaving, eyes wild with want.
"Cameron, we're breaking the rules," she gasps.
"Those rules don't exist here," I murmur, my voice rough as my hands slide beneath silk, finding her slick and ready. "The cabin has its own laws."
Her back arches sharply, a ragged moan escaping her lips as Willow's very existence evaporates from our world.
We crash onto the bed with such force the headboard slams against the wall.
My fingers dig into her tattoos, memorizing every line as I bury myself inside her.
She's burning against me, her spine a perfect arch as her nails tear into my shoulders, drawing blood.
The sharp sting of her teeth on my neck sends electricity down my spine as I drive deeper, harder.
Her wetness floods around me, her inner muscles gripping me like she's afraid I'll disappear.
When she comes, it's violent—her entire body convulsing, eyes rolling back, a primal sound ripping from her throat.
I don't slow down. I pound into her relentlessly, the wet collision of our bodies echoing through the room as she locks her legs around me in a vise grip.
Even as we devour each other, I feel tomorrow's ghost between us.
Each desperate kiss is contraband I'm smuggling across the border of her defenses.
In LA, she'll become a fortress again. Tonight, there's only this savage connection—her body branded against mine, her taste seared into my mouth, our thundering hearts trying to break through our ribs as I explode inside her, claiming what I know I'll lose.
Christ, I've been starving for her. Three hundred and eighty-eight days since I last tasted her skin.
No wonder I'm shaking, no wonder I can't stop.
Or maybe it's simpler than that. Maybe it's just that somewhere between Sicily and here, I fell so hard for this woman that I can't find my way back up.
Doesn't matter. We make love until dawn breaks, scorching her bedroom gold, her ink-black hair spilled across the pillow like a confession. My heart hammers against my ribs when I finally surrender to what's consuming me.
"Tally, I'm in love with you," I rasp, my voice breaking. "I'm so fucking gone I can't breathe when I'm not touching you. I'd marry you right now, this second, if you'd just say yes."
Her answer? She crushes her mouth to mine, nails digging half-moons into my shoulders, pulling me inside her again with a desperation that burns. Not a single word. The silence between my confession and her body's response screams everything I was afraid to hear.
At dawn, after we've marked each other in ways that will linger for days, making love no less than 7 times, although I eventually lost count, Tally's voice slices through the sweat-soaked sheets.
“This was our last night,” she whispers. "And please... keep trying with Willow."
I knew it was coming. Doesn't make it hurt any less.
It is what it is.
In twenty minutes I'll be downstairs, smiling across pancakes at the woman I'm supposed to want, while the one I actually do pours coffee like nothing happened.
Wrong doesn't begin to cover it.