Page 36 of The Malibu Secret

Celeste squeezes me in a hug. “I’m so glad you made it. Max didn’t think you would.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. “What’s the deal with Dr. Willow?”

Her eyes go wide. “Oh—Silas decided Cameron’s been in mourning long enough and, well, invited Willow.” She makes a face. “Silas knew Willow back when he was an undergrad at Harvard—they lived down the hall from each other. When Cameron came to visit Silas in those days, Willow had this massive crush, but Cam was with Alecia, so nothing happened. Later, Silas ran into Willow at an art opening, and that gave him the bright idea to set her up with Cameron for the weekend.”

“And they already knew each other from Johns Hopkins?”

“Right. She was a couple years behind him, and he became her mentor during her first year.”

I roll my eyes. Of course: this beautiful, wealthy doctor has liked Cameron forever, and that sneaky Silas thought it’d be great to throw them together in front of his baby mama.

“Tal,” Celeste says softly. “This is what you wanted, right? For Cameron to be happy with someone? You told me⁠—”

“I know what I said.” I hunch my shoulders and stare back through the window at Cameron and Willow, still talking, still laughing. “I meant it. I’m not right for him. He deserves happiness. But damn, it hurts to watch him with the woman who might finally give him that.”

Celeste slips an arm around me as I lean over the railing, my hands gripping the smooth wood. Brinley is asleep on my chest—any second she’ll wake up crying, and I’ll have to feed her, rock her. But for now, I’ll take this time. I’ll dig up every scrap I can about Willow Rosewood. After all, if I truly love Cameron—and I do, more than anything—then Willow might be the one to bring him the joy he deserves. Even if, in my darker moments, I’ll probably imagine plunging a knife into those perfect eyes.

I twist a strand of my jet-black hair around my finger until the tip turns purple. "So Silas knows Brinley is Cam's?"

Celeste's emerald eyes narrow to slits. "Oh, he knows. That's why he ambushed you with Willow this weekend. He saw you and Cam were attending together and thought, perfect setup for revenge." She leans forward, her coffee breath mingling with the cloying scent of her vanilla perfume. "Silas is the one with the grudge. He thinks what you did—passing off Cam's baby as some random hookup's kid—was unforgivable. In his book, you're officially Bad News with a capital B."

"So he's playing matchmaker." My fingernails—hot pink nail polish and all—dig crescents into my palm. People always think they know the whole goddamn story. Sure, hiding Brinley's paternity looks terrible on paper, like I'm some calculating bitch.

Was I wrong? Absolutely. But nobody saw me at 3 AM, staring at my ceiling fan's hypnotic circles, replaying that moment I almost called him in Sicily, phone clutched so tight my knuckles went white. Nobody understands what it's like growing up watching your mom trapped in relationships she never chose, her spirit dimming with each passing year. I wanted Cameron in my bed, not making decisions about my life. And what if my pregnancy had pulled his focus when those refugees—desperate faces pressed against chain-link fences—needed him more?

I bang my head softly against the textured wall, feeling each tiny bump against my skull. Other women would've seen Cameron for the jackpot he is—those surgeon's hands with perfectly trimmed nails that save lives by day and work magic by night, that deep laugh that rumbles through his chest and makes you feel like the only person in the crowded room, the way he actually listens, head tilted slightly to the right. And Jesus Christ, he can make me see stars in bed, constellations I didn't even know existed.

I get why Silas wants to "rescue" his brother from me. Doesn't mean I have to like it.

Celeste leans forward, her eyes serious. "Tally. Listen. If things changed with Cameron, you need to tell him. Before it's too late and you regret the whole arrangement. Do it now."

I shake my head so hard my earrings jangle. "Commit to Cam? I can't even commit to a fucking tattoo design for longer than five minutes. What right do I have getting territorial about him dating Willow? That's just me being a selfish bitch." I shake my head again just as Brinley is waking up. “No. He deserves someone who can give him what he needs, and that's not me." My voice cracks on the last word.

Celeste's arm slides around my shoulders. "Tally," she says softly. "You love him, don't you?"

"Fuck." I swipe at my eyes with the back of my hand. "Yeah. I do. Love him so much it fucking hurts. Physically hurts. That's the whole goddamn problem. I love him enough to know when to walk away."

That old saying about setting someone free if you love them? It's bullshit. I don't want him coming back to me. I want him finding someone who isn't broken, who doesn't have my baggage. Someone who can make him happy.

And knowing that's not me? It feels like someone reached into my chest with a tattoo gun and inked "FAILURE" across my heart.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

CAMERON

My brother Silas has always been a meddler, but this time he's crossed a line. Word around the family is he's harboring the biggest grudge about Tally lying about the baby. Somehow he's appointed himself the judge of my love life and decided Tally isn't suitable. My opinion? Irrelevant, apparently.

This weekend at the family retreat, I walked in to find Willow Rosewood—my med school classmate who's now running pediatric oncology at UCLA—sitting in the chalet’s living room. Silas then proceeded to fling us at each other’s heads. After an awkward catch-up where I learned her husband passed from cancer three years ago, I cornered my brother.

"You're seriously matchmaking while Tally's in the next room?"

Silas didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed. "Absolutely. Bumped into Willow at some gallery thing, got talking about you. Your wife's been gone about as long as her husband. She admitted she always had a crush on you. Seemed perfect."

“Silas, I have Tally⁠—”

“But you don’t,” he interrupts. “You’re just her roommate, nothing more, remember?”

Of course I never told any of my brothers about my arrangement with Tally. Instead, Tally confided in Celeste, Celeste blabbed to Max, and before I knew it, the whole Kensington clan was in on our business. Damn it—why can’t anything in our lives stay private?