Her shoulders slumped forward. “You didn’t need to come here. You should be at the party having fun.”

I honestly couldn’t believe that she thought I should be at the party while she was here crying. She watched me, her features pinched with confusion. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yes.”

“This is what friends do. They check on each other. Brittany and Jacob would’ve been here, but I made them stay there.”

“I need to get my phone and call—”

“I’ll text Brittany. I got her number.” I sat back, watching her. “The fact that you wouldn’t expect anyone to check up on you is . . . I don’t even know what it is.”

Her mouth opened, then she shook her head and started to look away. I palmed her cheek, stopping her. Using my thumb, I chased away the last of the tears that had been there. Her damp lashes lifted, and I would give anything to take back every one of her tears that fell.

“Why were you crying?” I asked. “Wait. Did that fucker hurt you, because I will—”

“No! Not at all.”

“Then why?” I held my breath as she turned her cheek into my palm. “Talk to me?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was just being a girl.”

My brows shot up “You sure that’s all?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

There was more, there had to be, but how did one ask a question like that? I didn’t know. “You okay?”

Shortcake nodded.

I moved my hand down, brushing my thumb over her lip by accident, but when I did, she inhaled softly. Our eyes locked. The same feeling I had while we were at the party hit me in the chest. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to make her forget Tony and the party and all those tears. But the first time I kissed her I didn’t want her to taste her own tears.

Closing the space between us, I pressed my forehead to hers and let out a tired breath. “You drive me fucking insane sometimes.”

“Sorry.”

I pulled back, searching her face. “Don’t run off like that again, okay? I was worried shitless when I couldn’t find you and no one knew where you were.”

Shortcake stared at me and then she scooted forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek, surprising the ever-loving shit out of me. My eyes widened as I leaned back, unable to look away from her. I started to say screw the not kissing part right now, but I stopped myself. “Avery?”

“Cam?”

With all seriousness, I held her gaze. “Go out on a date with me.”

There was a tiny second of hesitation where her lips parted and two tiny pink spots bloomed on her cheeks, but then she spoke and at first I didn’t think I heard her right, but I did.

“Yes,” she said.

Fifteen

When Brittany cornered me outside of sports management the following Wednesday, I really had no idea what she wanted.

“Can we talk?” she asked, huddled down in her neon-pink hoodie. Short strands of blonde hair framed her face.

“Sure.” I guided her over to one of the empty benches. “Is Avery okay?”

Her lips tipped up as she leaned forward. The faint smell of smoke lingered on her clothes. In her hand, she turned a lighter over. “She’s as okay as Avery ever is.”

I turned my head toward her, frowning slightly. “What does that mean?”

Her eyes fastened on mine. “Come on, Cam. As much as you hang out with Avery . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head as her lips pursed. “Anyway, she told me that she finally told you yes? That she’d go out with you?”

My frown faded, but I really had no idea where this conversation was going. “Yes, she did. We’re going out Saturday night.” Or at least I believed so. “Unless she’s changed her mind and is planning to bail on me.”

Brittany shook her head. “No. I don’t think she’s going to bail.”

“Think?”

She laughed. “Well, you never really know with her.”

“That’s true.” I paused, turning toward her. “So, I doubt you wanted to confirm that she said yes.”

“No.” She took a deep breath as she sat back, twisting the blue lighter between her fingers. “I’m going to be straight with you, okay?”

“Okay.”

She looked up, her bright eyes landing on mine, and I fought a grin at the seriousness in her expression. “Avery really does like you. I know she probably doesn’t show it, but she does.”

I relaxed. “I know she does.”

She arched a brow. “But do you really like her?” Another class had let out and a rush of people filled the walkway, blocking the wind. “Because I know what you were like in high school and you could seriously have any girl here, but you want the one who’s turned you down.”

“So?” I folded my arms. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Is it because she’s a challenge to you?” she asked, not looking away. “Because if you’re going out with her because she’s not easy, I swear to God, I will cut you.”

I burst into laughter. “Cut me?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not joking.”

Struggling to stop laughing, I nodded and hopefully plastered a serious look on my face. “I believe you.”

“Good.” She nodded. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I like her, Brittany. It has nothing to do with a challenge or any shit like that. And the way I was in school is obviously not the way I am now.” I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “And I know she’s . . . different.”

Brittany nodded again and she didn’t say anything to that. Part of me was glad that someone else had picked up on a few of Avery’s behaviors, or she could’ve confided in her, but there was another part that was uneasy. I glanced at her. “Did she tell you anything?”

“About you?”

“No,” I laughed. “Did she tell you . . . ?” Still, I had no idea how to ask the question. Luckily, Brittany got what I wasn’t willing to say.

“It was the way she acted at the party, so I asked her the other day.” Brittany stood, slipping the lighter into the pocket of her jeans. My stomach tightened as I waited. She gripped the strap on her bag. “She told me nothing happened to her.”

Air stopped somewhere in my throat. “Do you believe her?”

She stepped back and then forward, lowering her voice. “She looked me straight in the eye and said nothing happened. I don’t know what to believe. How about you?”

“I don’t know, but you’re her friend, she would’ve told you.” I hoped that was the case. “Right?”

“I guess,” she replied, smiling tightly. “I’ve got to run before I’m late to history. Yay.”

“Hey.” I stood.

Brittany turned. “What?”

“You’re a good friend.”

She smiled as she dug a cigarette out of her bag. “I know.”

A certain edginess had me strung tight as I pulled the black sweater over my head and then went in search of my shoes. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this nervous, but it made sense. How many weeks—hell months—did it take for me to get Shortcake to say yes? I had a reason to be nervous.

I slipped out of the apartment before Ollie could make an appearance. My heart was pounding way too fast and my head was full of too much to deal with whatever smartass comments that would come from him.

When I knocked on Shortcake’s door, it opened almost immediately, and the nervousness turned into something completely different when I laid eyes on Avery.

The deep green blouse she wore mixed with the loveliness of her hair and complexion. Part of me couldn’t even believe I noticed that and was about to start waxing poetic verses in my head. The ever-present bracelet was in place. My gaze traveled down the skintight jeans tucked into black boots and then back up, straying where the soft red waves curled over her breasts.

I cleared my throat. “You look . . . really, really great.”

She ducked her chin as I stepped into her apartment. “Thank you. So do you.”

Grinning, I leaned against the back of her couch. “You ready? Got a jacket?”