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“So… heard from Chrissy lately?” Oh. My. God. I did not just say that. I pick up the knife and start chopping like a maniac.
“Tabs, you seem kind of, um, deranged. Can we talk?”
I stop mid-chopping and turn to Cam. “Sure. I mean. No! Nope.” I resume pulverizing the carrot bits. “Just trying to make dinner. Like two normal friends on a normal Friday night.”
“Maybe you should put the knife down.”
I snort. But his gaze is still glued to the blade in my hand, so it’s clear he’s not joking. I set it down and frown.
“What’s wrong?” My voice comes out three pitches too high.
Cam hesitates, gently pries the handle from my fingers and says, “On second thought, let’s finish cooking and then talk.”
My heart is pounding so fast I’m sure my blood is being whipped into a thick cream. I sit and watch him rub the mushrooms clean, which drives that thickened blood to my own button mushroom that is screaming for him to rub it exactly the same way.
Cam looks over at me and smiles. Then he swallows in that weird way he does when he’s nervous, rubbing the front of his neck as if he has to coax his throat to work. Shit.
He can see my feelings. My very unfriend-like thoughts. Oh my god. He can’t run out since this is his house. And I’m the friend he always confides his girl troubles to, so he won’t have anyone to share his humiliation with when I’m the one causing it.
Cam turns back to the veggies. His voice is low, and I have to strain to hear what he’s saying. “If there hadn’t been an audience, I would have liked to have read that scene with you, me as the Duke and you as Gabriella.”
I stop breathing. Why would he say that?
He’s horny, that’s all. It was a very sexy scene. We’re both a little amped, my calm inner voice soothes.
Unless it’s more, my inner troublemaker sing-songs in my brain.
Do I want to be more than friends? Do I want this to happen? Do I really want to risk ruining the special relationship I have with Cam?
What if the sex is bad and we wish we’d left it as a delicious unknown? What if it’s good, but things don’t work out and this is the last Friday night dinner we ever have? What if it’s great, and he wants to settle down and have kids and… I can’t breathe.
“Screw it.” Cam drops the broccoli and faces me. “I need to tell you something now. Tabs, I?—”
I jump to my feet. “I’m so hungry. So very hungry. Vegetables are just as delicious raw.”
I grab an uncut carrot and shove the thing in Cam's mouth, which is framed by his bright red cheeks. His forehead is covered in droplets of sweat.
Shit, he's going to ruin everything. I can't let him ruin everything.
“So,” I cry, “Ruthanne was weird tonight, eh?”
Cam’s eyebrows rise, and I know exactly what he’s thinking. He opens his carrot-filled mouth to speak.
“Chew a hundred times. Don’t want to choke,” I say, trying to smile. I keep talking to keep him from having the space to. “I'm sorry Sylvie wasn't more welcoming. She usually?—”
“Tabby!” Cam yanks out the carrot clamps his hands on my shoulders. “Take a breath. Relax. And stop worrying about book club. You know Sylvie’s had an issue with me since eighth grade. I’d expect no other reaction from her.”
He’s too close. Half my brain wants to press my body right to his while the other half wants to knee him in the nuts and run. I opt for the middle ground and twist out from his grip.
I need to deflect the conversation to something normal. “Right. I forgot all about that. Hey, did you hear that Miss Barker got a principal job in the city and then stayed there?”
Cam nods and returns to the chopping block. “My mom talks to her sometimes. Did you know she actually got married? I remember her as being a seriously old woman when she was at our school. Apparently, she was only in her forties.” He chuckles. “Frightfully ancient!”
This is good. Being with Cam is supposed to feel like home, not awkward and uncomfortable. He’s the one I can relax and be myself with. The guy I can say whatever is on my mind to. He shouldn’t be a person I feel so nervous with I might throw up.
Cam ruins it all by saying, “So Tabby, the thing I was going to tell you?—”
“No, don’t!” I howl, a wave of fear pushing into my throat.
