Smirking, I know I’ve won this round. Kamila wears almost every emotion on her sleeve.
“Stay. I’m going to make us some coffee.”
“You’re bossy.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“And you like it.” I give her a smile. She shakes her head, knowing there’s no point in her objecting because what I said is a fact.
“Em is probably worried,” she says more to herself than me while I prep the coffee pot.
“Text her and relax. Let me do this one thing for you, even if it's something as simple as caffeine.” I catch a glimpse of her looking over at me, observing my every move. Whatever she sees makes her comfortable enough to stay.
After a couple of minutes of her texting and me getting my clothes ready for the day, I grab a mug and make her coffee the way she’s always liked it.
“Thank you.” Her eyes flicker with amazement after her first sip, and my jaw clenches. I didn’t really think this part through.
“You just happen to have light brown sugar, whole milk, and cinnamon lying around?” She tilts her head to the side in the most endearing and adorable way possible.
Endearing? Adorable?What the fuck is wrong with me today?
Truth or lie? A white lie? A half-truth? “I, um…” I stutter, trying to come up with any sort of excuse to get me out of having to reveal that what’s in my thermos is the same as what’s in her mug.
“It was Zoey. She used cinnamon for some cupcakes recently and left it here after making them in the kitchen downstairs.”
The truth? Kamila took me to a local coffee shop the day of her and Ana’s sixteenth birthday. She decided to order something new: a medium cup of coffee with a splash of whole milk, a touch of cinnamon, and some light brown sugar. Her sister made fun of her for not ordering the black stuff like we did. Yet that day in the coffee house, when I saw Kamila take that first sip of coffee, her face lighting up over something as simple as a three-dollar drink, it’s when I realized that I loved her. It didn’t matter what I felt for her sister, it wasn’t the same as what I felt for Kamila. She was my first love. Platonic or not, it was the first time that I felt overwhelming love for anyone other than a family member. After that day, my morning coffee order has been the same. Every morning for the two years we were apart, I poured the bitter liquid, splashed the cold milk, ripped open the packets of sugar, and sprinkled the spice on top before mixing together the same ingredients that were the essence of my best friend. Every sip was a pain I had come to crave, a reminder of those feelings towards the only person I’ve ever loved in the Morales family.
It’s so much more than a breakfast drink to me, but telling her that now might scare her out of my life permanently.
She shrugs, pretending to buy the shitty lie I came up with. “Thanks. It’s honestly one of the best cups I’ve ever had.”
My shoulders slump in relief. “I should go shower. You take your time doing whatever it is you need to do. I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m a big girl.”
Nodding, I leave, not calming down until I get behind the bathroom door and under the shower head. I haven’t felt this way about somebody in a long time. With anybody else but her. It really clicked last night after she told me about that week in high school. I should’ve known it was Kamila bringing me the soup, but Ana told me it was her and proudly took all the fucking credit. Kami took care of me back then and is taking careof me now. She’s still a good person with a good heart, and something in me never truly gave up on us because every morning, I forced myself to remember her.
Ethan was right. Fuck, I hate admitting that.
Stepping out of the shower, I pause the song on my phone and put it to my ear while it rings.
“You better have a good reason for waking me up before eleven on my day off,” Ethan grumbles.
“You were right,” I say quickly.
The sounds of sheets ruffling come through the small speaker. “Now you have my attention.” There’s a faint voice in the background. “Go back to sleep, it’s just Cam.”
“And who might that be? Chris?”
“We were talking about you, remember?”
Good for Ethan. “Tell him I said hi.”
“Cameron,” he warns me.
“Alright, alright. You were right about…everything.” I lean on the sink counter.
“Of course I was.” He pauses. “We are talking about Kamila, right?”
“Yeah, dude.” Running a hand through my hair and letting out a deep breath, I allow myself to voice everything I’ve been feeling. “I care about her. A lot. Like I did back then, but it’s more intense. It’s different.” I scoff. “Obviously, it’s different. We’ve had sex multiple times, and it’s amazing. It gets better every single damn time. It’s honestly the best sex of my life,” I admit for the first time aloud. “And something changed last night. I was sick, she came over, took care of me, and was overall so unselfish. It made me realize how close-minded I’d been to the idea of really putting the past behind us and there possibly being something more. But wejustmade a deal to get to know each other all over again as friends. And even worse, it wasmyidea. That was Sunday. Three days ago. Everything is going so well, and I don’t want to fuck it up by telling her any of this.”
