10 Years Later Part 3

I didn't need Tucker to remind me about what a blessing it was that a girl like Cammie was still available. I thanked the freaking stars every morning I woke up and heard her talking on the air about not having a boyfriend. If anyone changed that status, it was going to be me. And I was going to start this weekend at the reunion, even if she tried to avoid me or push me away like she did before.

I remember the day she stopped talking to me, the hurt look in her eyes letting me know that I had done something completely unforgivable. I didn't even know what the h.e.l.l I did to make her so upset, but I planned to find out. I might have been a stupid young kid back then who allowed her to walk away, but I was a man now. And a man rights his wrongs, admits where he screwed up, and goes after what he wants.

And what I wanted was her.

Best Friends.

Cammie.

My cell phone rang around six p.m., startling me out of the sleeplike trance I'd fallen into. Getting up at four in the morning tended to take its toll on me, and I hated the fact that I could no longer be a night owl like I used to be.

Kristy's name flashed across the screen, accompanied by a ridiculous selfie of her making duck lips, which always made me smile.

"Hooker," I answered.

"Wh.o.r.e," she responded, and I chuckled. "Nice show this morning. I almost keeled over the desk at my office."

Kristy worked as an a.s.sistant at a law firm. I had no idea how she managed to listen to the show every morning without getting fired, but Kristy could be pretty persuasive when she needed to be. Which was a good quality in a future lawyer, if you asked me.

I sat straight up on my couch, pulling my feet underneath me. "Holy s.h.i.+t, Kris, I almost died. I thought they knew about Dalton, and I was freaking the h.e.l.l out."

"So was I. It's not like the guy you liked in high school was named Matt or something. Everyone would have known exactly who you were talking about. And you know everyone from school still listens to that show. They've been listening to Tom and John forever."

"Trust me, I'm aware."

"So, how'd the little s.h.i.+ts find out about the reunion anyway?"

"My boss, Scott, must have mentioned it to them in the morning meeting."

I tried to keep my personal life private at work, but it was harder than it sounded. We were more than coworkers at my office, and we tended to tell each other the kinds of things that friends would. I figured it was the same in most places of business. How could you spend nine hours a day with people and not become friends on some level?

"You can't tell those people anything!" Kristy yelled, and I pulled the phone away from my ear.

"I know. I wish I could just keep quiet sometimes, but it's hard. I mean, we talk about our lives and stuff. Don't you do that at work?"

"Oh, s.h.i.+t yeah. We tell each other everything. I know exactly what half the people did here on any given weekend," she said with a laugh. "But then again, I don't work at a radio station where any stories that get told have the potential of being broadcast to over half the state."

"Our signal doesn't reach that far," I said, correcting her absentmindedly.

"Ugh. You know what I mean. You have to be careful about the things you tell those people. That's all."

Kristy was right, and I knew it. "It's harder than it seems." I didn't want to be closed off and unapproachable at work, and even though I knew things from my life could be used as radio fodder, normally I never minded. This morning just happened to hit a little too close to home for comfort.

"You're leaving for the hotel tomorrow after the show, right?"

"In theory, yes. I might have to stay after and help prep for the weekly on-air staff meeting, but I should still get there before you do."

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

"'Night," I said with a loud yawn.

"Dear G.o.d. You'd better be able to stay up past six on Sat.u.r.day."

"I will," I promised.

"Do I need to pack energy drinks?"

"Couldn't hurt," I said with a shrug, even though she couldn't see me.

"All right, old lady. Go to bed."

I set aside my phone, thinking about the day Kristy learned about my crush on Dalton . . .

a a a "So, who's the guy?" Kristy had asked, taking a large bite out of her sandwich that day at lunch during our freshman year in high school.

"What guy?" I'd feigned innocence before looking around our school's quad as if I had no idea what she was referring to.

She smacked me on the arm. "Stop playing dumb, dummy. Why do you keep staring at that guy in the corner with Tommy Baker?"

Kristy proceeded to lift her hand and point right in the direction of Dalton Thomas, and I grabbed for it, yanking it down.

"Why would you do that? Don't point at him!" I said with a groan. "It's just a guy from one of my cla.s.ses."

I met Dalton the first day of our freshman year. We had English Composition together, and my pulse raced as he moved to sit in the empty desk next to mine. He smiled, extended his hand, and introduced himself in that s.e.xy, self-a.s.sured way that I would soon learn was typical of Dalton. We became friends from that moment on, but I never a.s.sumed that he saw me as anything more than that.

Kristy narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. "He's kinda cute. You know, in that nontraditional way."

I glanced over at Dalton again. His sandy-brown hair hung in his eyes, and he moved his head to fling it away. You couldn't see his eye color from where we sat on the lawn, but I knew it by heart-green with little flecks of brown. "I don't even know what that means." I shook my head before taking a bite of my apple.

"He doesn't look like a jock and he doesn't dress preppy, but he's still cute in that So-Cal boy-next-door kinda way. Is he nice?"

I felt my face get a dopey look when I thought of him, and my body sank deeper into the gra.s.s. "He's so nice. And he's smart. And funny. And charming. My G.o.d, he's so charming. I didn't even know guys our age could be charming."

"Okay, okay," Kristy said, cutting me off. "You like him. I get it."

"It's just a crush. I'm sure it'll go away eventually."

I a.s.sumed at that point that it would do exactly that. Go away, subside with time, or something that involved thoughts of Dalton's lips on mine leaving my mind. But they never did. My crush on Dalton Thomas only seemed to grow with each year of high school until it exploded one night during our senior year. But that was still a long three years away. Before the clouds came and settled over my otherwise rainbow-filled life.

"I think he's looking over here," Kristy said before taking another bite of her sandwich.

I'd glanced across the lawn and thought I saw Dalton smirk at me, but couldn't be sure. My heart had fluttered anyway, as it expanded with hope.

Ten Years.

Cammie.

Arriving at the beachside hotel for the reunion, I lugged my oversized duffel into the lobby and prayed I wouldn't see anyone from high school just yet. I'd been driving the last two hours with the top down on my convertible, and I was a hot, sweaty, windblown mess. Not the way I wanted to greet anyone from my past, that was for sure. Thankfully the lobby was practically empty as I approached the check-in counter. Five minutes later, key card in hand, I headed up the elevator to the tenth floor.

I slid the card into the door lock and watched as the little light turned green, allowing my entrance. As I opened the door and the room came into view, I let out a little sigh. Natural light flooded the pretty blue-and-white decor, and I immediately wished my own master bedroom in my condo looked like this.

Tossing my duffel bag on top of one of the two beds, I unzipped it and searched for my shower bag. Kristy would most likely arrive within the hour, and if I wanted any alone time in the bathroom at all, I needed to do it now, before she got here. Kristy was notorious for trapping me into serious conversations where she attempted to psychoa.n.a.lyze me (no doubt this time it would be about Dalton) while I was in the shower. I think she did it because it was the only time I couldn't escape or run away.

During high school, Dalton had been the very definition of charismatic, the kind of guy who captivated a room whenever he walked into it. And it wasn't because he was the best-looking guy at school. That award definitely went to David Lampson, hands down. And from what I could tell from David's Facebook profile, he was even better looking in his late twenties than he was as a teenager. Go, David.

Dalton, however, had something about him that entranced both genders, and it had absolutely nothing to do with looks. Guys thought he was smart and cool, and girls were captivated by his charm. Myself included.

Obviously.

He wasn't mean-spirited or cruel, and that was part of what made it so hard for me to hate him after everything we went through together. After everything I willingly gave him.

I'd tried to put my senior year with Dalton behind me, but a girl couldn't go through something like that and come out unscathed. Every experience I'd ever had with a guy had changed me in some way. Whether it was a single idea, or an altered view, I was never quite the same girl after as I had been before. I firmly believed that wasn't a bad thing, either. The only way we could truly know what we wanted in a partner was to figure out the things we didn't want. Process of elimination, I supposed, but you risked losing pieces of your heart along the way.

No one ever said love was easy. And if they did, they lied.

"I'm here, hooch!" Kristy's voice filled the steamy air just as I stepped into the shower.

"I'm in the shower, and I swear to G.o.d, Kristy, don't come in here. Let me shower in peace," I pleaded from behind the shower curtain.

I felt the whoosh of cold air before I heard the door opening. "When have I ever let you shower in peace? I live to torture you."

I groaned as I soaped myself up. "Why? You're so weird. Why can I never shower alone when you're around?"

"So, let's talk about Dalton Thomas."

See?

"What about him?" My insides tightened, and my throat suddenly felt like I'd swallowed a cup of ground gla.s.s.

"How are you feeling now that the big day is finally here? Are you freaking out? I'm freaking out for you."

"We don't even know if he's coming, Kris."

"Oh, please. He was our cla.s.s president, he's definitely coming," she said matter-of-factly.

I peered around the shower curtain to find her perched on the bathroom counter. "But what if he doesn't? Seriously, what if he doesn't even show up? How the h.e.l.l will I know if I still feel anything for him or not if I don't see him?"

She groaned. "I wish I had something to throw at you. Like ice." She hopped off the bathroom counter. "I'll be right back."

"What? Don't go get ice!"

Convincing myself she couldn't be serious, I heard the sounds of things slamming and cras.h.i.+ng around before the hotel door slammed closed. I tried to rush through the rest of my shower before she came back and hurled ice at me. Who does that?

"I'm back!" Her voice filled the bathroom far too quickly, and I peered around the curtain again in mock fear. "What are you doing?" she asked innocently. "Why do you look so scared?"

"I'm afraid you're going to force me to mimic the ice bucket challenge and ruin my shower," I admitted.

"I needed ice for my drink. See?" She swirled the red concoction around in a small gla.s.s.

I breathed out a quick sigh of relief before ducking back into the shower to rinse the conditioner from my tangled hair.

"So, are we going to talk about him?" she asked.

Trying for clueless, I said, "I don't really know what you want to talk about exactly."

"Well, for starters, what the h.e.l.l are you going to do if he shows up with a date tonight?"

Die.

"Or worse," she went on. "What if he shows up married?"

Die twice.

I silently wondered what was worth than death, because that was what I would do if Dalton Thomas showed up married tonight. But him being married was an absolute possibility, I reasoned, and I needed to mentally be prepared for it. Only I had no idea how to wrap my heart, or mind, around the prospect.

"Cammie? Did I give you a stroke in there?"

I swallowed the boulder stuck in my throat and tried to speak. "No, but you aren't helping. I'm freaking out enough already without you adding to it, Kris. You're supposed to talk me off the ledge, not walk me to it."

The fact was that Dalton Thomas had always stayed firmly rooted in the back of my mind. Sometimes people did and said things that stayed with you your whole life. Their actions and words became living, breathing things that instilled themselves inside your heart and became one with it. Dalton had become so ingrained, so easily a part of me, that not even surgery could remove him.

She laughed, and I heard the ice in her drink clink around. "I'm just trying to prepare you. He could be married. He could have kids."

Does my best friend secretly hate me? I attempted to swallow past the lump in my throat, then said, "I guess I'll just have to deal with it and finally get past him once and for all. Ugh, I hate that the idea of him still gets to me after all this time. It's so stupid!"

"Well, don't beat yourself up. It's not like you've spent the last ten years pining for him or anything," she said pointedly, the sarcasm in her voice coming through loud and clear.

"I haven't pined for him for ten years!" I exclaimed. "You make it sound like I was some pathetic loser who never got past her high school crush."

"If the shoe fits," she shot back.

I would go months without ever thinking about Dalton, and then out of nowhere, his memory would hit me like a freight train and I would find myself wondering where he was and what he was doing. Those were the nights I searched online, trying to find any mention of him. It made no sense for me to miss him after all this time, but I still seemed to. And secretly, a small part of me always hoped that he missed me too. I hated the idea of being alone in my feelings; it made me feel stupid and weak. If I was going to think about a boy I hadn't seen since high school, then I wanted him to be thinking about me too. Even though I hated to admit it, sometimes I was such a girl.

Shutting off the water, I reached for two towels, wrapping my hair in one and securing the other one around my body before pulling back the curtain all the way and stepping out.

"Kristy, I've dated plenty of other guys. I moved on from him just fine, and you know it. Don't act like I didn't. It's just that now that we're back here, for this, I can't help but think about him. I a.s.sociate Dalton with high school the same way I a.s.sociate you with it."