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“Maybe.” His lashes lowered as he started peeling his boiled egg.
I took a drink. “I guess it’s different for you.”
“Hmm?”
“I bet you have girls hanging all over you. Dozens would probably kill to be in my spot and here I am, allergic to your bread.”
He looked up. “Why? Because of my near godlike perfection?”
A laugh burst from me. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Cam chuckled and then shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t really think about it.”
“You don’t think about it at all?”
“Nope.” He popped a whole, freaking egg into his mouth. Besides that, he had impeccable table manners. Chewing with his mouth closed, wiping his hands on the napkin he’d pulled from the holder, and not talking with his mouth full. “I only think about it when it matters.”
Our gazes collided, and my cheeks flushed. I ran my finger along the rim of my glass. “So you’re a reformed player?”
He paused, egg halfway to his mouth. “What makes you think that?”
“I heard you were quite the player in high school.”
“Really? Who did you hear that from?”
“None of your business.”
A brow arched. “With that mouth of yours, you don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”
I flinched, because that was a spot-on observation. “No,” I heard myself saying. “I wasn’t really popular in high school.”
Cam dropped his egg on the plate and sat back. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was an asshole thing for me to say.”
I waved it off, but it stung
He watched me through thick lashes. “Hard to believe though that you weren’t. You can be funny and nice when you’re not insulting me and you’re a pretty girl. Actually, you’re really hot.”
“Ah… thanks.” I squirmed, holding my glass close.
“I’m serious. You said your parents were strict. They didn’t let you hang out in high school?” When I nodded, he finished off the egg he’d dropped. “I still can’t imagine you not being popular in high school. You rock the trifietca—smart, funny, and hot.”
“I wasn’t. Okay?” I set my glass down and moved on to tugging at a loose string on the hem of my shorts. “I was like the very opposite of popular.”
Cam started peeling another egg. Wondered how many he’d eat. “I am sorry, Avery. That… that sucks. High school is a big deal.”
“Yeah, it is.” I wetted my lips nervously. “You had a lot of friends?”
He nodded.
“Still talk to them?”
“Some of them. Ollie and I went to high school together, but he spent his first two years at WVU and transferred down here and I see a few around campus and back home.”
Wrapping my arms around my legs to keep from fidgeting, I rested my chin on my knees. “Have any brothers or sisters?”
“A sister,” he replied, picking up the last egg—the fourth one. A genuine smile appeared. “She’s younger than me. Just turned eighteen. She graduates this year.”
“You guys close?” I couldn’t imagine having a brother like Cam.
