They all tell me thanks. I go to grab my bag, but Camden takes it.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He leads me out of his house and to his driveway.
A warm summer breeze whips around me as we walk to my car. When I take in the stark contrast of my beat-up sedan against all the nice cars of Camden’s teammates parked in his driveway, I feel so out of place. I glance over at the front of his luxury home. My crummy studio apartment is smaller than his entire living room.
That embarrassed feeling settles deeper. As unpleasant as it is, I’m used to feeling out of place—to feeling different. I’ve been different my whole life in the worst way because of my illness.
I watch as Camden loads my bag into my car. I wonder if he remembers. I tried to hide it, but I couldn’t help it sometimes. I was the sick kid, constantly missing school to go to the doctor. I never talked about it much though. He was my best friend—my crush. I didn’t want him to think I was a freak.
And I don’t want him to think I’m a freak now either.
He shuts the door, an easy expression on his face.
“Here.” He hands me a stack of twenties.
My eyes go wide. That’s gotta be at least a few hundred bucks. “What’s all this for?”
“Your tip. You get tips as a party princess, right?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Never that much though.”
“Well, tonight you are.”
He holds my gaze, that cheeky gleam flickering in his golden-brown eyes.
I shake my head. “Camden, no way. It’s too much.”
“It’s the exact amount I want to pay you. Take it, Ellie.”
I let out a breath, heartened at how generous he is. Honestly, I could use the extra money. I need every penny I can get my hands on these days.
“Thank you,” I say softly. I tuck the cash in my purse.
“Hey, can I have your number?” Camden asks. “I don’t want to let another thirteen years pass before we see each other again.”
I smile. “Of course.”
I type my number in his phone, and he texts me instantly.
He pulls me into a hug. “It was really, really good to see you again, Ellie.”
“You too.”
He holds the door open for me as I climb into the driver’s seat, then closes it.
I start the engine, and he leans down and motions for me to roll down the window.
“Lock the doors,” he says.
I smile and press the button. “Done.”
“Text me when you get to your place so I know you made it there okay.”
That warm, tingly feeling is back. “Okay.”
As I drive off, I’m smiling so hard, my cheeks are aching. And just like that, even though I know better, my childhood crush on Camden Connors is back in full swing.
Chapter 3
