Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALL IN MY HEAD
CAMDEN
It’s hard not to laugh as I drive Juju home. Her head lolls to the side as she drifts off, even in the minuscule distance it takes us to get from the restaurant to her place. But honestly, my mood has everything to do with the moment we just had in the kitchen.
I shouldn’t be, in any way, excited.
I’m not really.
Okay, I am, a little, but I shouldn’t be.
She’s still my best friend’s sister.
He’s never liked us being close—he’s the reason all of this weirdness started in the first place.
And as if that isn’t enough, she hates me. Just because her eyes softened in the kitchen and it seemed like she was leaning in to maybe kiss me doesn’t mean she really wanted to. In the next second, she blinked and stepped back, nearly stumbling into the open cooler.
I don’t blame her for hating me. I’ve been awful to her.
For a long time. Once I knew how Jackson felt about our friendship, I backed way off and I knew it hurt Juju.
She became sullen and short with me, which drove me crazy, but I didn’t do anything to change things.
It took years before I started reacting to her the way I do now… acting like I hate her right back.
I’ve had times I’ve wondered if it’s true, times when I haven’t seen her in a long time and think maybe I’ve gotten past caring. But the second I see those green eyes staring back at me, even if they’re laced with disgust, I know that what I feel is not hate for Juliana Fair.
I pull into her driveway, and when she doesn’t budge, I sit there for a second, wondering what to do.
“Juju,” I say softly.
Nothing.
She’s looked so exhausted every time I’ve seen her lately. I hate to wake her up. I could try to carry her inside, but what if the door isn’t unlocked? I don’t want to wake up the whole house.
I back up and drive to my place.
I’ve been staying in the walk-out basement at the lake house since I moved back.
It’s huge, so even with my family living here, it’s not too crowded.
My old bedroom is upstairs with the rest of the family, but I figured with my late nights, the lower level would be best for everyone.
Milo and Goldie need their rest. They’re working on their house in what little spare time they have with the resort renovations.
And my grandmas and dad are light sleepers.
My grandmas can bounce back with little sleep, but my dad needs all the rest he can get.
I’ve got a great setup in the basement—it’s technically a mother-in-law apartment, though neither grandma stays down there—but I’d still like my own place.
It’s been years since I’ve lived at home, and it’s been an adjustment to be back as an adult.
My siblings and I each have a large plot of land on the new property.
I’d love to be further along on the plans for that, but opening the restaurant has taken all of my headspace.
I get out of the SUV and walk around to Juju’s side. When I open the door, I say her name again. She keeps sleeping.
“I’m going to carry you inside now, okay?”
Still nothing.
I lift her in my arms, and fuck me, she smells good.
I said it without thinking earlier, and she assumed I meant the worst…
probably because of all the other times I’ve been a jackass to her.
But the mulled wine and citrus mixed with her berry shampoo is something I want to sink my nose into and never come up for air.
I walk into my dimly lit apartment, past the couch, and set her carefully on the bed. She’s out. I remove her shoes and tug the covers up to her shoulders, giving her one last glance before I leave the room.
I take a quick shower and then drag a pillow and blanket to the couch. It takes forever to fall asleep. I think about the way she looked at me in the kitchen and wonder if she’ll be soft like that in the morning or hate me for letting her crash here.
When I wake up, there’s daylight streaking through the windows.
I sit up and stretch, my back cracking in protest. Movement in the doorway catches my attention, and I turn to see Juju standing there.
Her hair is a mess and there’s a pillow crease on her cheek, but she looks beautiful. Her eyes are wide.
“Morning,” I say, my voice rough.
I turn so my feet are on the floor and gradually stand. “You okay?”
She doesn’t answer right away. And suddenly I forget to breathe.
When I speak, the words rush out. “I couldn’t wake you and you were sleeping so peacefully. I didn’t know if your house was unlocked and I didn’t want to wake anyone up, so I brought you here.”
She nods, rubbing her arms like she’s still shaking off a dream.
“Thanks,” she says softly.
We’re quiet for a second, the silence getting heavier the longer it drags on. Her hair falls into her face and she lets it stay there, blinking at me with the one eye showing.
“I should get going.”
“Oh, okay.” I try not to sound disappointed, but my chest twists anyway.
And then I wonder why the hell it would. It’s not like we hang out and talk. We’d probably end up fighting as usual.
She’s walking past me and out the door faster than I can blink. I just stare after her for a second.
By the time I drag myself to the coffeepot to start the day, that weird heaviness in my chest is nagging.
I spend the whole day hanging out with the family before I go to the restaurant. I have a busy night, but I spend most of it trying to shake that feeling off.
It’s a feeling I have way too often around Juju.
And I don’t know why now—if it’s because I could tuck her away as a memory when I lived in Colorado and now she’s in front of me all the time, front and center—but I just can’t stand for it to be this way between us anymore.
As long as I’m being honest with myself, I should admit that she’s always been front and center for me.
That’s been the root of the problem all along.
I don’t know how to change things or if I even can.
It might be too late.
More than a week later, I still haven’t seen Juju.
It’s been busier than ever, out-of-towners coming in to try out the restaurant and to get a glimpse of the gorgeous resort that everyone in Minnesota is talking about.
Windhaven is impressive. My dad had a vision for a mini Rivendell straight out of the pages of The Lord of the Rings, and he’s accomplished just that. It’s spectacular, and the inside is shaping up to be just as exceptional.
We’re doing a soft opening of the lodge in May, which will give us a couple of weeks to adjust before our busy season starts.
It looks as if some of the cabins will be ready by then as well.
My brother Noah has had contractors from all over the state coming in to help get this project done.
My dad worked in real estate for ages and had established relationships with so many contractors through the years that when they found out Everett Whitman had cancer and wanted to do this new endeavor, they were eager to jump on board.
It’s been a labor of love for everyone involved, even though my dad has insisted on paying very well.
I have plenty to do at the restaurant, but somehow I end up at The Kitty-Corner Cafe.
I’m sure it’s a bad decision before I ever step inside, but since I’m here, I go on in.
Loud singing catches me off guard when I open the door.
Hector and Hal are flanking Juju behind the counter and half singing, half shouting an old Motown song.
Juju’s gaze ping-pongs between the two, her expression both amused and exasperated.
I feel her pain—it’d be hard for me to focus on the job at hand with all this commotion, and yet, the customers are eating it up.
Her hair is pulled back. She’s gorgeous—an effortless beauty no matter what she’s wearing, whether she has makeup on or not, and whose smile can light up any room she’s in.
I miss the way her smile would light up whenever she saw me.
My chest tightens the second her eyes catch mine. I brace myself for whatever sharp jab she’ll have for me and tell myself not to bite back quite so hard this time.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, the corners of her lips lift slightly, and even though it doesn’t reach her eyes, it’s almost a smile.
“Hey, Camden,” she says, like I’m just another customer.
I blink, thrown off-balance.
It’s what I wanted, but it still surprises me.
“Hey,” I manage, waiting for the spice under the sugar.
“I have a bear claw with your name on it. If you want it, it’s yours.” She sounds almost pleasant.
“Uh, yeah, that sounds great. Thank you. And a coffee, please.”
“Sure thing. Coming right up. Would you like it for here or to go?”
“I might sit down for a minute.”
She nods and goes to grab the pastry.
Okay, now I’m freaking out. We haven’t gone this long without throwing out a barb in over a decade.
Is she messing with me?
Hector winks at me. “Good to see you, Camden,” he says.
Hal sings out with a rich baritone, “There’s our man Cam, who’s a ham, but he’s like fam so we don’t give a damn.”
I laugh. “Seems like someone else is the ham around here,” I tell him.
He just grins and sings to the next customer walking in the door.
Juju hands me the plate and mug of coffee. “Have a good one,” she says.
“I haven’t paid yet.”
“It’s on the house.” She waves me off and looks at the woman behind me.
What the hell? Have I stepped into an alternate universe? I thought I wanted her to smile at me, but this nonchalant, distant thing where she’s acting like I’m no one to her is even more torturous.
This isn’t how we work.
She’s supposed to push back.
Throw sparks.
Is she mad that we almost kissed? If that’s what it even was.
I turn and nearly run into Ava.
“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I say.
“No worries. I was distracted too,” she says.