CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY
He was most definitely going to kiss me, and I couldn’t let him.
I fled. Scrambled down to the foot of the bed and jumped off. It was like I’d torn off a piece of myself, leaving it behind, where it stayed next to him, wanting everything he was offering. “Wait. Just ... wait,” I said. “We can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Any of that.” I gulped in a deep breath. Why did it feel like there was no oxygen in this room? “Dan and I have the same rule.”
“You’re not allowed to make out with bridesmaids, either?”
How could he be calm enough to make a joke? I felt like my heartbeat was never going to return to normal. “I don’t date guys I meet at weddings. It’s a rule I have.”
He lay back, putting his hands behind his head, the picture of ease. “Rules are made to be broken.”
“Or they’re made to be kept.” I needed to keep this one. Not just because I had to be an example to my employees, but because at the core of my relationship with Camden I was lying to him and I was always aware of this fact. It wasn’t fair to him.
Because I knew, I just knew, that if we kissed we’d be crossing a line we couldn’t uncross. I could only imagine his face when I told him the truth about my relationship with Sadie. That he’d repeatedly questioned me about my life and I’d lied to him about it again and again. How betrayed he’d feel.
But it would be different if there were no romantic feelings involved. He might be hurt, but it would be so much less.
At this moment, friendship was all I had to offer him. Because it had become ridiculously clear to me that I wasn’t going to be able to stay away from him. “I can be friends. Nothing more.”
He didn’t seem all that perturbed by my announcement, which did bother me. Shouldn’t he put up even a little bit of a fight? “You know we’ve already met each other’s parents. We’re like, at Step 12 in our relationship.”
“We’re not even at Step 1,” I told him.
“I don’t think you’re right about that,” he said, but then he didn’t push the matter. “So if we met somewhere besides a wedding, you’d go out with me?”
I wanted to date him now, even though I knew how badly it would all end up. “It’s not just wedding guests. I haven’t really dated anyone in a while.”
“Because of work?” He asked this like it was a totally reasonable explanation, and I supposed in a way it was. I could have agreed and kept that part of myself hidden.
But I wanted him to know. “No. My dating karma hasn’t been great. I figure in a previous life I caused a lot of damage that I’m paying for now. Like I must have been like a CrossFit instructor or Mussolini or something.”
“I think I’ve said this before, but I find that hard to believe.”
Crossing my arms, I warded off the chill I was feeling. “So does my mother. But if I’m being really honest ...” My heart warned me not to do it, thudding hard so that I’d stay silent. “I find it hard to trust men.”
At that Camden sat up. He patted the bed next to him and I understood his invitation. It was drawing me closer, but letting me know that I had nothing to fear from him.
“Do you mind if I ask why?”
Debating within myself, I walked to the edge of the bed. I’d just decided to join him and try to explain when there was a knock at the door.
“Room service,” Camden said, swinging his legs off the bed and padding over to the door. He wisely checked the peephole before letting the hotel staffer into our room. The scent of fried food hit me hard and my stomach grumbled. Camden took care of signing for the bill while I reached for my tray, lifting off the lid. I wasn’t sure what to eat first, but the cheeseburger looked delicious so I chose that.
Camden handed over the little folder and the staffer wished us a good night and let himself out. Camden grabbed his tray and sat next to me on the bed.
He picked up one of his french fries. “The sweet smell of heart disease,” he said, before popping it into his mouth.
“Don’t tell me you like to eat healthy.” At his expression I pressed on. “Are you the kind of guy who loves avocado toast?”
“What’s wrong with avocado toast?”
I started laughing, not able to help myself.
He tried to frown at me, but it quickly turned into a smile. “Does that mean you don’t eat healthy?”
“Well, there’s this”—I gestured to the food next to me on the bed—“and the four chocolate chip cookies and six s’mores I ate before this, so feel free to draw your own conclusion.”
He watched me attack my burger, while he absentmindedly ate a fry here and there. “You enjoy eating.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” It was one of the best things about being alive.
“I’ve dated more than my fair share of women who didn’t. Who preferred to deny themselves.”
“Not me.” I mean, food, no, other stuff, yes. “What about you?”
“It’s why I work out. So I can eat the occasional cheeseburger and fries when I feel like it.”
“Yeah, someday my metabolism’s going to give out and then ... I don’t know what’s going to happen.” I assumed it wouldn’t be great. But I’d still be happy and eating what I wanted.
“I think it’s sexy when a woman enjoys herself. So tell me, Rachel Vinson, what else would you like to enjoy tonight?”
His words turned my blood into liquid fire. I knew exactly what he was asking me, and I very much wanted to say it.
I didn’t, though. “For now? The rest of this burger. And then the ice cream. I can’t do anything else. I’m not in a place where I can date anyone.”
“I don’t remember asking for that.”
Maybe not, but he was heavily implying it. “I can only be friends with you.”
He seemed to be considering my offer as he tore open a packet of ketchup, adding it to his burger. “I could always use another friend. Can’t you?”
I nodded. Someone to hang out with and talk to and not kiss no matter how much you wanted to? There was room in my life for that. Regardless of how torturous I found it.
Because the other options weren’t acceptable. “Just so long as you understand that we’re the kind of friends whose shirts don’t accidentally slide off?”
He looked far too amused. “But what if my buttons just spontaneously come undone?”
“They won’t,” I instructed him in a determined voice. My heart couldn’t take it. I would go up in flames. Ones that reached to the moon.
“Are you sure? Stranger things have happened.” He took a bite of his burger and then swallowed it down. “And please know that if your shirt was to accidentally slide off, I don’t have any objections to that.”
Whew, I knew that he was teasing but that silky tone of his made my skin feel heated. “Thanks for the update.”
“Any time. And don’t worry. I promise to remember that we’re only good buddies.”
Even though it had been my decision, his words felt vaguely disappointing. There was a decent amount of space between us and I imagined climbing over our food and telling him I’d been wrong about that silly friend thing. I needed to change the subject. “So earlier today, what was with Irene being worried about stuff going wrong at weddings?”
I grabbed a bunch of fries, needing to sublimate this desire I felt for him with greasy, delicious food.
“Oh, easy,” he said. “Dan used to date Satan and I think Irene’s afraid she might try to wreck the wedding.”
I stopped midchew. “What?”
“Her actual name is Lilith.”
“Like ... the woman from mythology who was the mother of demons?” When he nodded I asked, “Why do parents do stuff like that?”
He finished off the last of his burger in a single bite, and I found it impressive. “It was an old family name. Anyway, she made his life miserable. She was always accusing him of cheating on her and he had to constantly prove himself by buying her gifts he couldn’t afford. He was deep in debt for a long time. She kept demanding more and more stuff and he couldn’t see that she was using him until one day he finally woke up.”
“What pushed him to end things with this delightful-sounding creature?”
“Dan wants kids, and she’d spent years telling him that she wanted a family, too. During a fight she finally admitted that she’d lied and never planned on having children and that was it.”
“Obviously it’s her choice whether or not she wants a family, but she definitely shouldn’t have lied to him for years.” She’d tricked him and led Dan on. I ate my last french fry and started eyeing Camden’s. While I didn’t share food, I wondered if my new friend was amenable. “Don’t tell my mom, but I want to have kids, too. Like, six of them. My own little basketball team.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell her.”
It took me a second to register that he actually could snitch on me and it was another layer of weirdness added to everything else that was happening. “What about you?”
“I definitely picture myself being a dad. I’ve thought about how nice it would be to have people in my life who were related to me. I miss that.”
His words made me ache for him, that he didn’t have relatives. It must be so hard; I couldn’t even imagine. Then that sympathy turned to an odd kind of joy, that he would want to have children. I had to remind myself that his words had no bearing on me or my future life.
Then, as if she somehow sensed that hypothetical grandchildren were being discussed, my mother called. I couldn’t let her know what was happening.
“You have to be quiet,” I told him, very stern in my warning. I shifted my tone as I picked up and said brightly, “Hi, Mom!”
His eyes got comically large and he mouthed, “It’s your mom?” He held out his palms, moving his fingers back and forth like he wanted me to hand my phone to him. Fat chance.
“Hi, sweetheart! How are things going?”
I glanced over at Camden. My mother would have a coronary if she could see that he was here. “Good. I’m just getting ready for bed.”
“I was calling to see if any progress had been made. How’s Camden?”
His eyes lit up and he started to speak. I clamped my hand down over his mouth.
“Fine, I guess.”
He mumbled something against my hand and I tried not to think about how soft and warm his lips were on my skin. I had to close my eyes against the sensation.
My mom was talking, but I wasn’t registering anything that she was saying.
“Sounds great, Mom. I need to get going. I’ve got sunrise yoga and need to get to bed. I’ll call you later!” I hung up the phone and waited a moment to see if she’d call back. When she didn’t, I slowly moved my hand away from Camden.
“That wasn’t funny,” I told him.
“It was from my perspective,” he said, still clearly enjoying himself. “Your mom likes me.”
“That’s not really saying much. My mom likes anyone who has the potential to impregnate me.” These words were out of my mouth before I could wish them back inside my head, because it brought back that thick, weighted feeling. Where we were both feeling something, but I had to deny that it was happening.
“Why not tell her I was here?” he asked, and it was more than just simple curiosity. He was asking me something that I couldn’t answer, because I had feelings about him that I wasn’t ready to share, so I kept things light.
“Because she would have flown here to hog-tie you and force you to marry me.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
I knew he was kidding, and maybe it was because I was in this wedding environment, or just because of how attractive he was, but there was a superdumb part of me that wanted to believe such a thing was possible.
When I didn’t argue with him, he added, “You totally lied to your mom.”
I wished I could shrug it off, but he wasn’t wrong. “It was necessary. Sometimes, in my life, I have to do that to protect people I care about.” It felt like a major confession, the closest I’d come to telling him the truth.
We finished up the rest of the food, and he did indeed allow me to have some of his fries. They were a little cold, but I didn’t even care. Camden cleared the trays and plates from the bed and he lay down on his side, facing me. “Let’s play a game,” he said.
“What kind of game?” I asked. I lay down across from him.
“The kind where you tell me something.”
“Like what?”
“Something about you that I don’t know,” he said, and then added, “I don’t want to know about how much you can bench-press, either. Something real. Something you haven’t told someone else. Maybe what you were going to tell me earlier before the food arrived.”
“I can’t even bench-press the bar, so there’s nothing to tell you about that,” I said, aiming for lightness when all I felt was a slight sense of dread. Would Camden think less of me if I told him why I didn’t trust men?
“In our game we can trade truths,” he said. “You tell me something, I’ll tell you something.”
Why?I wanted to ask him, but wasn’t sure I was ready for the answer. Because deep down, I knew why. “How will we know if we’re actually saying the truth?”
“We’re going to have to trust each other.”
It was a big ask, even if he didn’t know that.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll play.”