Page 8 of Wish You Were Mine


  Damn, there are a lot of hot chicks here tonight,” Aiden says, clinking his bottle of beer with mine.

  “Uh-huh,” I mumble distractedly, scanning the crowd under the tent in search of Cameron, trying not to make it too obvious that I’m looking for her.

  “I just had sex with one on the dance floor. In front of God and everyone. I got a standing ovation.”

  “Yep,” I reply, craning my neck when I see a blond head in between the sea of people milling around, drinking and talking.

  Aiden punches me in the arm right when I lose sight of the blonde I thought was Cameron. I turn to look at him with a glare.

  “What the fuck?”

  Aiden laughs and shakes his head at me.

  “I just told you I had sex with a girl on the dance floor and you didn’t even blink. Earth to Everett. Are you still thinking about finals? I’m sure you aced them,” he states, taking a sip of his beer.

  There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him what has me so distracted tonight, so I keep my mouth shut and just let him assume it’s because of finals. While Aiden has been away studying at Clemson University, I’ve been enrolled at the College of Charleston right downtown for the last three years, telling my mother I was enrolled in business classes when I was really earning my undergrad degree in premed. Even though I’m going to school locally and not a few hours away like Aiden, I’ve been so busy studying for finals the last couple of months that I haven’t seen Cameron at all. It’s the longest we’ve gone without talking and I hate it. I finished my last final today, on the day of the annual charity dinner her parents throw at the camp that they combined with a high school graduation party for her this year, and I’ve been anxious all week knowing I’d finally have some free time and I’d finally get to see her. Finally get to talk to her about something important that scares the shit out of me.

  “Damn. Our little girl is all grown up.”

  Aiden’s quietly muttered comment makes my eyes shoot through the crowd to where he’s staring and the sight in front of me almost makes me drop my bottle of beer.

  Cameron. Talking to a small group of people, looking more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. She’s wearing a short, strapless white dress that molds to her curves and shows off her long, toned legs, with a black satin ribbon around her small waist and matching black heels that make her legs look even hotter. Her wavy blond hair has been pulled up and pinned all over her head with a few strands hanging down over her bare shoulders and her bangs falling down over one eye. I watch as she reaches up and brushes them out of her face, smiling at something someone says to her, and it takes everything in me not to walk over to her and pull her away. I want that smile aimed at me. I’ve missed that smile the last few months. I’ve missed her the last few months.

  “Seriously. When the hell did the kid get so hot? I think I’m gonna ask her out. I mean, she just graduated from high school. She’ll be legal in a month. It wouldn’t be creepy or anything, right?” Aiden asks, his eyes still glued to Cameron.

  I have to resist the urge to punch my best friend in the face and tell him to stop staring at her. Especially since I can’t stop staring at her either, and have been thinking the exact same thing he just said for months.

  “Fuck off. You’re not asking Cameron out,” I tell him, wincing when it comes out as a growl and I can’t hide how pissed off I am that he’d say something like that.

  “You’re right. It would be creepy. I mean, she’s one of my best friends. And she can still kick my ass in basketball. If word got out my girlfriend could kick my ass in anything, I’d never live it down,” Aiden laughs. “Besides, I think she’s in love, and I probably shouldn’t get in the middle of that.”

  Aiden nods in Cameron’s direction and I look back out at the dance floor to see a guy I don’t know walk up next to her and wrap his arm around her waist. She looks up at him and smiles, then says something to the group of people she was talking to before he grabs her hand and leads her to the middle of the floor.

  The two beers I had tonight start churning in my stomach when I watch her turn to face him and he pulls her up against him, his arms holding her tightly to him and his hands resting right above her ass. I want to walk out there on the dance floor, rip his arms from his body, and beat him with them.

  “Who the fuck is that?” I mutter, unable to take my eyes off of the train wreck in front of me.

  The way she’s pressing her palms against his chest, the way he leans down and nuzzles his face into the side of her neck, then kisses his way up to her ear, whispering something that makes her tip her head back and laugh, makes me want to start throwing punches at anyone in my general vicinity.

  I hate him and I want to kill him. Who the hell is this guy she’s letting touch her? Kiss her? Make her laugh?

  “That’s Grady Stevens. He graduated with her, and they’ve been dating for, like, three months. How the hell did you not know this? You talk to Cameron more than I do,” Aiden states.

  It’s true, I do talk to Cameron more than Aiden does, aside from the last three fucking months when I was buried in schoolwork, doing whatever I could to distract myself from tonight, knowing I was finally going to pull my head out of my ass and talk to Cameron about how I felt.

  “Anyway,” Aiden continues, not paying any attention to me losing my shit next to him as we both stare across the room at Cameron and the asshole whose hands keep inching closer and closer to her ass. “He’s a good guy from what I hear. Valedictorian of their class, full scholarship to Clemson for football. His dad owns one of the biggest champion horse breeding farms in the country on the other side of town, and plans on turning the whole thing over to Grady as soon as he graduates college. Nice kid. Has a good head on his shoulders and Cameron seems to like him.”

  The song ends and I watch as Cameron and Grady stay locked together staring at each other, not even realizing the music isn’t playing anymore.

  “Oh, yeah. Our little girl is definitely all grown up,” Aiden laughs. “Pretty sure she’s going to be giving up the V to that guy tonight. Lucky bastard.”

  I’m squeezing the bottle of beer in my hand so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter into a thousand pieces, the pain in my chest so acute that I’m pretty sure my heart shattered in its place. Aiden continues rambling and I want to tell him to shut the hell up, but I can’t. All I can do is stare at what should have been mine.

  “I tried offering my services for taking her virtue, but she punched me in the stomach. At least Grady is a nice guy has a good future ahead of him. And Shelby and Eli adore the guy. She could do worse.”

  She could definitely do worse. Like ME worse. Now I’m sure a lot of parents would want their daughter to date a doctor. Unless you’re Cameron’s parents, who still see me as the loser kid from a broken home who couldn’t stay out of trouble, no matter how much I’ve busted my ass over the last few years to show them I was trying to change. Aiden’s right. Grady has a good future ahead of him if he’s going to be running his dad’s farm after college. I lost my shot, biding my time until she turned eighteen and it didn’t seem weird as fuck that I was lusting after my best friend three years younger than me. I could have sworn I’d seen something in her eyes in the last year. Something that said she wanted the same thing I did, but was too afraid to say it, just like I’d been. Obviously I was wrong. She’s looking at Grady the way I thought she’d been looking at me. And going by the murderous thoughts running through my head just by looking at the two of them together, Cameron’s parents are right to still not trust me. I’m still fucked up, I’m just better at hiding it now.

  That guy is definitely the better choice. He knows what he wants in life, and even though I do, too, I have so much on my plate right now trying to make sure I get into medical school, and lying to my mother to keep her from breaking down. I was all set to tell her about what I planned on studying as soon as I found out I’d gotten accepted to the College of Charleston, figuring she was already at the
lowest point in her life and there’s no way my news could possibly make things worse for her than they already were. I’d always said I’d never do something as risky as my father, but when one of my professors came back from a year in another country, showed us photos, and explained how much help these people needed, I knew it was what I had to do. And I could never tell my mother how important this was for me, because all she would care about is that I would be doing the exact same thing that took my father from us. I couldn’t do that to my brother. Not when he was happier than I’d ever seen him having her back in our lives with a clear head and a loving heart. I couldn’t be the one to ruin that for him, so I continued lying to her. I hated every minute of it, but I did it, and I’ll continue doing it until I’m sure our mother is strong enough and has been sober enough to handle the news.

  I have no idea what my future will bring. No idea where I’ll be sent if I get accepted to that international program. And that kid, the one who can’t keep his hands off of Cameron and the one she can’t stop smiling at, he has his whole life mapped out right here in Charleston. His dreams won’t take him all over the world into dangerous situations and away from her. His plans won’t make her choose between staying here at this camp that she loves so much, or leaving with him if he gets assigned somewhere else. And dating him definitely won’t piss off her parents.

  It was all just a stupid dream. A silly fantasy. Idiotic wishes I’d been making on my birthday the last few years and never had the courage to verbalize until tonight, and now it was too late.

  “Ev, you’re here!” Cameron’s voice pulls me out of my depressing thoughts and I realize she’s walked over to us, her hand still firmly held in Grady’s as he stands next to her, looking down at her with an adoring smile.

  Grady slides his arm around her waist and pulls her to his side, holding his hand out to me.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, man. I’m Grady, nice to meet you.”

  I take his hand and shake it, squeezing it a little harder than I should have, narrowing my eyes at the guy and hoping he understands my nonverbal communication that if he hurts Cameron in any way, I will end him.

  Cameron looks back and forth between us with a smile, oblivious to the stare down we’re giving each other before I drop his hand and take a drink of my beer.

  The four of us stand here for a few minutes, Aiden, Grady, and Cameron talking easily among themselves while I drink my beer and feel like a third wheel, wishing I had the guts to pull her away from Grady. Just say “to hell with it” and lay my cards on the table.

  She’s happy. So fucking happy. I can see it written all over her face each time Grady says something and she can’t keep her eyes off of him. I can’t be “that” guy. The one who fucks up her happiness and ruins our friendship. The one who finally gets what I’ve always wanted and then leaves her behind, makes her constantly put her life on hold, waiting for me to come home. Aiden would do it. Aiden would give zero fucks about putting her in an uncomfortable position. Telling her how he felt and not caring if she felt the same way, not even thinking about her feelings or how much it might tear her in half. But I’m not Aiden. I couldn’t do that to her no matter how much I wanted to. We were friends first and I don’t want to screw that up and lose her completely. I don’t want to make things awkward and not have her in my life, even if I have to spend the rest of my years knowing I lost my shot.

  I just want her to be happy, and if Grady makes her happy, I need to learn how to deal with it. So much for making all those wishes on all those fucking stars. I was an idiot for thinking they’d ever come true.

  Chapter 11

  Cameron

  As you can see, at Camp Rylan, we offer the complete summer camp experience year round, from horseback riding and dance classes, to nature hikes and swimming, even during the nonsummer months when we’re only open on weekends. But we keep in mind that this camp is for children who have family members either currently deployed, home and trying to adjust to civilian life, or who have passed away, and we also provide individual and group counseling for anyone who needs it. After dinner we can…”

  My eyes almost roll into the back of my head and I have to struggle to pay attention to what Everett is saying when he moves to stand behind me, rests his hands on my shoulders, and starts gently massaging my neck with his thumbs.

  I let him take the lead on the tour of the plantation for Mr. Stratford, mostly because he knows this camp as well as I do after growing up and working here when he was a teenager. And also because I was so pissed at him that I was afraid if I started talking, all that would come out would be curse words.

  I’m angry he didn’t leave when I told him to. I’m angry he thought I needed his help. I’m angry he decided he could just waltz back in here and fix everything. And I’m angry he so easily went along with Amelia’s lie, telling Mr. Stratford we’re married. I was still too frazzled at seeing him again, and too shocked when he wrapped his arm around me and tugged me against him to say anything at the time, and now I have to go along with his stupid idea if I want any chance of saving this camp and not looking like a fool in front of Mr. Stratford.

  He knew I wouldn’t fight him on this. He knew I wouldn’t make a scene in front of a man who held the future of Camp Rylan in his hands, no matter how much I want to move away from him so I can remember how to breathe again. What he doesn’t know is that his stupid, spur-of-the-moment decision just brought on a whole new set of problems. If Mr. Stratford does decide to give us the money before he leaves, what’s going to happen next year? Or the year after that? It’s not like Everett and I can just pretend to be married for the rest of our lives, every time Mr. Stratford decides to come for a visit. I also don’t expect my parents to agree to this ruse once they get home and find out what happened. Before Amelia and Everett opened their big mouths, I was just getting ready to tell Mr. Stratford where my parents were, swallow my pride, and call them to tell them to get home as fast as possible, hoping Stratford would wait around long enough to meet them.

  “How many campers do you usually get during the summer months?” Mr. Stratford asks.

  I open my mouth to answer, figuring I should probably start talking at some point since this is my camp, even though Everett is putting on a good show, but the words get stuck in my throat.

  Everett’s hands slide off my shoulders, down my back, and circle around my waist, pulling me back against him as he locks his hands together over my stomach. He rests his chin on top of my head like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he touches me this way and holds me this close all the time. I can feel the beat of his heart through his chest as it presses up against my back and it makes me want to turn around in his arms, press my face to his chest, and feel the strength of it against my cheek. I can’t stop fighting this internal battle of wanting to throttle him for showing up out of the blue after almost five years, or holding on to him and never letting him go. I want to scream at him for inserting himself back into my life, but at the same time, I just want to stay here in his arms, reassuring myself that he’s really here and safe and alive.

  “We’re always at full capacity during the summer, and we actually have a waiting list,” Everett explains, telling Mr. Stratford our process for picking who gets to attend Camp Rylan while I stand here like a mute, growing angrier by the second as his voice vibrates through my body since he’s holding me so tightly against him.

  I hold on to my anger and let it flourish. Being pissed off is much better than the alternative. What I really want to do is run across the camp to the guest house, where I live, lock myself in my bedroom, curl up on my bed and cry. I want to let it all out, all of the anger and fear and confusion. I just want to be left alone so I can get my head back on straight, and I can’t do that when Everett is here, standing so close to me that I can’t think. I can’t concentrate on anything but how good it feels to be this close to him, how right it feels to pretend like we’re something more than we are. Jesus, we’re
not even really friends at this point, and now we’re pretending to be husband and wife.

  I just wanted him to leave and give me time to get my emotions under control. Time to be sad and hurt and cry and scream and let it out all out. I can’t handle standing here in his arms pretending. It hurts too much that I’m being forced to fake something I wished for and dreamed about for most of my life. It makes me angry that it hurts so much and all I can think about is how much time we lost that we’ll never get back, and how he can so easily walk back into my life and put on this act.

  “Thank you for taking the time to show me around,” Mr. Stratford says, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts. “I know you weren’t expecting me for another month, but a few things changed in my schedule involving other charities I’m looking to possibly invest in, and I needed to push this meeting up a little sooner. My accountant needs a decision sooner than I expected, so I don’t have a lot of time to waste. I appreciate your cooperation. I don’t usually say anything until after a decision has been made, but Camp Rylan is at the very top of my list, as long as all of my requirements are met. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll walk back to the main house, talk to a few of the staff, and do some sightseeing alone.”

  I give him a smile I don’t feel and Everett lets him know to have the staff radio me if he needs anything, telling him we’ll see him at dinner.

  We both watch Mr. Stratford turn and walk away, neither one of us moving or saying a word as he makes his way around the pond, an acre away from the main house, that the campers use for fishing and canoeing. I wait until Mr. Stratford is far enough away, and see him meet up with Seth and Amelia, who just walked out of the stables, before I move.

  Jerking out of his arms, I whirl around to face Everett, shoving all of my sadness as far down as it will go and pulling up my anger to give me strength.

  “You’re not staying for dinner.”