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If there were ever a phrase to knock my ass back into reality, it was that one.
What was I thinking?
That was the point, though, right? Iwasn’tthinking.
She was just there, looking up at me with those dark eyes, and I lost my fucking mind.
Do something.
Doanything.
Turned out anything could absolutely be the wrong thing. The moment the words came out of my mouth, I knew, Iknewthey were the wrong ones.
All over again, I felt like a little kid clutching a beat-up bouquet of daisies, the crumpled plastic practically disintegrating underneath my grip.
Intentions didn’t matter for shit, not when I laid something at her feet that looked a lot like pity. Like obligation. Like a sacrifice I’d make in order to do the right thing.
My hands tightened as I took the curve to Cameron’s place. A screaming part of me wanted to make a sharp U-turn and tear in the opposite direction, feel the wind on my faceand the roar of the engine while the road disappeared underneath me.
Leave.
Go.
Don’t make anything worse.
If there was a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, the latter looked and sounded a lot like Poppy. The devil, however, was a voice I was used to hearing whispered into my ear.
Today, for now, I ignored that little son of a bitch.
The roofline came into view, and I slowed my bike as much as I could, my pulse racing while I tried to cram everything I was feeling into a dark, locked place in the back of my mind.
A boyfriend.
She had a fucking boyfriend.
My teeth clenched, thinking of the stupid letter in my stupid duffel bag, and my stomach churned with the unfamiliar feeling of regret. Of longing.
The undeniably bad timing of my feelings for Poppy was almost comical, if it didn’t all feel so fucking tragic right now.
Cameron’s house—a large A-frame cabin with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the wooded lot—sat about half a mile away from his mom’s place. I’d spent so much time there over the years, watching football or basketball. Having beers on the deck. Since his girlfriend, Ivy, moved in, it was less frequent, but even with the unrest churning inside me, it still felt like home as I pulled my bike in behind where his was parked.
Like a stone-faced executioner, Cameron was sitting on the deck, legs spread and his hands folded over his stomach as he watched me approach. Next to him on the patio chair was Ivy, her legs tucked up against Cameron’s lap. Her expression wasn’t so much guarded as it was terrifyingly thoughtful.
As much as I liked Ivy, she was undeniably intimidating,and I’d never felt it quite as much as when Cameron spoke low in her ear, and her eyes turned to mine as I got off my bike and walked up the steps.
She stood, giving Cameron a soft peck on the mouth before turning to me. “You know, before I hooked up with this guy, before I was all disgustingly happy in love or whatever, I might have glared you off the front porch. Threatened your manhood, something fun like that.” Ivy paused, a regal arch to her brow. “Or I’d have reminded you that Poppy is one of the very few people I’d risk prison for, even though orange isn’t my color and I’d make a terrible prisoner.”
I blew out a slow breath. “But you’re not going to do any of those things anymore?”
Ivy merely smiled. “No. I actually think this is a fairly interesting turn of events, even if I think the entire male species is punching way above their weight class when it comes to her.”
“On that, we agree,” I said evenly. “You feel that way about her boyfriend too?”
Giving me just a slight arch to her eyebrow, she turned and disappeared into the house without a response.
Cameron watched me silently as I took a seat in the chair opposite of his. After a few minutes, my skin crawled with the need to say something. Anything. But he merely kept his hands folded. His face even. His eyes on me.
“I think it would be easier if you just punched me,” I said.
