Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Because I will,” he promised. “It might not be right away and you might have to wait for a while, but I’ll always come back.”
“You say that now but—”
“But nothing. We’re friends, Nora.” He took a giant step toward me, completely in my space without actually touching me. His breath fluttered across my bare shoulder, and his words wrapped around me like a blanket in the middle of winter. “Friends stick around even when they live three hours away. Even when their parents ground them for a century. Even when their parents are idiots and take off. Even when all the worms in Georgia have been caught. Friends—true friends—always come back.” He extended an outstretched pinky my way, and I’d done enough pinky swears with Ramsey to know what he was asking for. “Okay?”
I drew in a shaky breath and stared at his hand. “But what if—”
“No what-ifs. You don’t have to trust me now. I’ll prove it to you. As long as you can tolerate me, I’ll always be around.”
Guilt iced my veins, and my head snapped up, an apology poised on the tip of my tongue.
But he was smiling. His gorgeous, blue eyes danced in the sunlight. Camden Cole, in the flesh, tall and strong, was standing in front of me, telling me all the things I’d never even dared to dream.
I couldn’t get my pinky hooked with his fast enough. “Friends. True friends.”
Using our joined pinkies, he gave my hand a tug. “Thanks for telling me about your mom. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. “Yeah. That’d be good. I don’t talk about her much. It’s kinda weird.”
He shrugged and never let go of my hand. “No weirder than my dad asking me if I was gay on the drive here.”
“What?” I half laughed, half shrieked.
“Yeah. Fun story. I told my grandma about you and how much I wanted to come back, thinking she’d be able to convince my parents. Well, she told my mom, and then by the time the story got back to my dad, there was a kid that I hunted worms with who she thought I had a crush on.”
I dropped his pinky so fast you would have thought I’d been electrocuted. “Wh-why would they think that?”
“I don’t know. But let’s just say Dad was super relieved to hear you were a Nora and not a Norman.”
Nervous laughter bubbled from my throat. “That’s crazy.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, but since my hair was in a ponytail, it wasn’t a real piece of hair and I just looked like a fool.
“Meh, whatever. He winked and told me I don’t have to be home until nine tonight, so I’m not complaining. So, what are we going to do first today, friend?”
Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Of all the days for Camden to come back.
“Actually, I, um, have to go soon.”
“What? Why? I just got here.”
“I know, but I kinda sorta have a date.”
He wasn’t fast enough to hide his wince. “Oh.”
“Yeah, I mean, it’s nothing big. We’ve been talking for a little while. He’s gonna make a picnic for us tonight.”
“Oh,” he repeated.
“Yeah. Probably just sandwiches and stuff. No big deal.” I nodded so many times that I must have looked like a bobblehead.
He stared off into the distance over my head. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll bring you ham, pickle, and mustard.”
My stomach knotted.
“Maybe,” I replied, wishing the awkwardness would go ahead and swallow me already. Anything had to be better than this.
There was literally no reason for me to be uncomfortable talking about this with Camden. Friends could go on dates with other people. Especially when said friends had just come back after a year of me kinda-sorta-not-really hating him. Sure, he was more grown up and hot now. But that was neither here nor there.
“All right. Well, have fun, I guess. I’m gonna stay here until it’s time to go back. That way, my grandpa can’t put me to work until tomorrow. Hey, can I get the ten back before you go?”
My back shot straight, and a wave of panic stole my breath. “You’re taking it back because I’m going on a date?”
He barked a laugh, deep and rich. “I’m not taking it back, crazy. I’m writing my address on it. And you have to do the same. That way, if I get into another Royal Rumble or you decide to take up that hitchhiking you bring up so much—seriously, what’s that about? We’ll always have a way to find each other.”
I smiled, and for the first time in almost a year, it wasn’t fake. And it was such an overwhelming rush that my hands shook as I passed it back to him.
“Heads or tails?” he asked, turning the bill in his hand.