Chapter 7
SEVEN
“He did what?” JoJo cried out while pulling different types of dresses out of a huge cardboard box.
I’d kept my promise and brought her a vanilla latte from the corner café and walked it down to her shop right after she opened.
She was prepared for me to tell her about the amazing time I’d had on my date with Jason (who I found out was her accountant), but she was totally blindsided and engrossed in the surprise ending to my night.
“Oh, yeah. Then, I stole his pizza and beer and fell asleep on his couch.”
JoJo’s head popped over her counter, dropping all the clothes in her hand. They landed with a whoosh right back in the box.
I allowed the shock to wear off before I continued on with the story, leaving nothing out. I even told her about the little tease I’d done with taking my shoes off and walking over to him to snatch the piece of pizza right out of his hand.
And then, I explained what I’d done when I woke up at three that morning.
I never got a full night’s sleep because of working night shift.
I only slept in small intervals of hours, but it worked out perfectly for me this time, because it gave me the chance to get him back after I found out what he’d done to me.
“When I woke up at three, I was on his couch, with the TV on mute, the lights turned down low, and a gray blanket draped across my body. He was nowhere to be found.”
JoJo’s face softened. “Aw, that is so sweet, Cammie. See, he has a soft side.”
I held my hand up and pulled the piece of bacon out of my mouth and pointed it at her.
“Don’t ‘aw’ just yet. He’s a freaking pig!” I looked at her, then down at the piece of bacon in my hand. “No pun intended,” I said, which left us in a fit of laugher.
Once the laughing wore off, I went back to my story.
“Anyway, when I sat up and climbed off the couch to find the bathroom, I had the exact same thought. How can he be such a date-destroying jerk of a man-whore but also cover me up after I ate all his pizza and drank his beer?” I shrugged.
“But after I peed and looked in the mirror, all kind thoughts diminished, because there was a GIANT PENIS on my forehead!”
JoJo laughed so hard she had to cross her legs to keep from peeing.
“Why do you think my forehead is bright red? It’s taken me, like, five squirts of soap and several washcloths to get it off.”
“That is hilarious!”
“It isn’t hilarious when it’s you. But no worries!” I grinned. “I did something to get him back.”
I arched my eyebrow and let my inner-psycho laugh fill the room.
“What did you do?”
“Well, it was three in the morning, so my thoughts were a little hazy, and the prank wasn’t as good as I’d like.
..but I stole all of his shower stuff and towels and deposited them on the front seat of his beautiful Camaro.
That way, when he goes to shower after his run this morning, he won’t have anything to shower with.
He’ll have to go to work disgusting and smelly. ”
JoJo paused. “You’re right. You can do way better than that. But it’s still good because I’m guessing he’ll be pissed.”
“Yeah. I’m hoping so. I did leave his razor, because I know he’ll get in trouble if he doesn’t shave.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my iced latte.
There was a beat of silence before I made eye contact with JoJo again, who was biting her bottom lip.
“What?”
“It’s just… you’ve got it bad. The both of you do.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“You know what I mean. You two are obviously attracted to one another, and who could blame you? You banter back and forth, which is just a different form of flirting.” She held her hand up so I couldn’t argue.
“And even though you two pick on one another, you still do things that show that you care.” She turned around and started picking up the clothes she’d dropped and folded them again neatly.
“He covers you up on the couch, and you leave his razor behind. You care, yet you’re trying really hard not to. The both of you are.”
“I might be attracted to him, but that’s it. He annoys the living shit out of me. He just…irritates me.”
“In the best way, though.”
I thought for a few moments before I responded. “It doesn’t really matter, and you know that.” I jumped up onto the counter, just beside the cash register, and let my legs dangle below .
“Okay, let me ask you this. If Alexander had come home safely…would you still have this silly rule?”
Ouch. She hit me right where it hurt. I wasn’t like this before. I wasn’t so closed-off. Things were just different now. Everything was. My dad and his new family, my mom off tramping about the world with her boyfriend…Alex was gone… and then there was me, just trying to get through each day.
“Your silence is an answer in itself. I just think that if you opened yourself up a little, you could be happy with a guy like Luke.”
“I don’t want a life with someone like Luke, JoJo.
I don’t want the military life. I don’t want to have something with Luke even if I did like him, because what happens if we get into a relationship, and he deploys and doesn’t come back?
I won’t be able to move on. I won’t be able to live my life carrying such a big burden.
It’s one thing losing Alex; it’s another thing losing someone I’m in love with.
And to think that I would be carrying around both of those deaths? No, thanks.”
JoJo’s honey-like eyes softened. “You said you won’t be able to live your life carrying such a big burden, but are you even really living now, Cammie?”
It felt like I’d swallowed my own heart. My legs stopped kicking back and forth, and I knew my face was solemn by the way my muscles involuntarily formed into a frown.
“Do you think I like the military life? You know I’m not a fan of the long-distance shit, or the worry that a deployment brings, no matter where it is in the world.
But when you love someone, none of that matters, Cammie.
None of it. Even if Ryan had died in Afghanistan on his last deployment, I wouldn’t have done a damn thing differently.
His love and our life would be worth every single heartbreak that you’ve felt every day of your life since Alexander didn’t come home. ”
The second the words left her mouth, I squeezed my eyes shut so the tears had nowhere to go. I wasn’t going to allow myself to cry, but her words… they spoke volumes to me.
Her warm hand landed on my forearm when she whispered, “I’m just saying, sometimes you have to take the big leap and fall, because you just might like the ground you land on.”
I only nodded my head because my voice was nowhere to be found.
I was reading on my porch when the rumble of Luke’s Camaro sounded in the distance, igniting nervous jitters in my stomach. I wasn’t here this morning when he’d gone for his run—I was already down at JoJo’s shop—so I was dying to see what he had to say about my retaliation.
My eyes stayed glued to my paperback book, and I fought the urge to smile. I heard the slam of his car door and his footsteps clumping against the pavement. When I looked up, I saw him staring at me from the bottom of my concrete steps.
“Yes?” I asked harmlessly.
He didn’t say a thing, and the only thing I could think about was how his biceps were glistening in the early evening sun from below his rolled-up camouflage uniform.
When he was right in front of me, I placed my bare feet down on my wooden porch and stopped the swing from hitting him in the knees.
His smile was enigmatic, and I suddenly felt extremely worried about how he’d retaliate—because I knew he would.
“Smell me.” His voice was demanding, yet playful.
My heart picked up speed. “Excuse me?”
“Smell my arm, Cammie.”
A laugh bubbled up in my throat.
“I’m not smelling you, freak,” I quipped.
“Yes, you are. Smell me.”
He reached down and placed his bare forearm up to my nose. I tried to back away, but his smoldering look caused me to think twice. So I leaned in and grabbed his forearm with my hands, ignoring the tingly sensation his skin sent through me, and I took a small, pitiful sniff of his arm.
“What do I smell like?” he asked, tilting his head to the left while peering down at me on the swing.
I crinkled my nose. “You smell like lemons.” Then I laughed. What the hell is this?
“That’s right. I smell lemony-fresh, just like the soap YOU left behind on the kitchen sink after taking all my shit.”
Ah, damn! The kitchen soap!
I giggled. Then, my giggles turned into uncontrollable, stomach-hurting, knee-slapping laughter. When I looked back at him through watery eyes, he only smiled and shook out his sandy-blond hair.
“You just wait, Doc. You just wait!”
Then, he stormed off my porch, boots stomping all the way over to his house. I looked over, smile growing wider than ever, before he stepped inside and slammed the door.
He may have been the best neighbor I’d ever had. It was just too much fun.
But that was all he was—a neighbor. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a neighbor.