His lips quirk, and he tries not to smile.
I point at him. “Knock it out. You can’t growl at someone for flirting with me. We are not––”
“You’re right,” he jumps in. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Dinner tonight? I can set it up in the little cove off of my office.”
“You don’t have to do that. I know you don’t have time for that.”
“I’m making time, Juju.” He leans in and whispers, “You’re worth it.”
And damn him, because even as I mutter about his ego and the nerve he has, my heart’s already saying yes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
BLAZES
CAMDEN
Past: Camden, age 24, Juju, age 22
Ever since my mom died, I didn’t know who I was. Every part of me felt unmoored, like someone had left me bobbing out in the middle of Lake Superior with no anchor in sight. My siblings and I were all floundering, trying to keep my dad afloat while barely keeping our own heads above the surface. I’d been back and forth from France, trying to convince myself that I needed to carry on—my mom would want that—but it wasn’t working. It was hard to be home and even harder to leave.
This time was especially hard. It was our first trip back to Windy Harbor without Mom. She loved this place. She loved any chance to be by the water, and the view from our house was her favorite. I could hear her laughter everywhere, her insistence that we go down to the water no matter what the weather was like, her humming as she brushed the sand that we’d missed off of us before letting us back inside.
Without her, Windy Harbor felt hollow.
Even though we kept things moving, stayed active, and tried to fill the spaces, the walls echoed with all that was missing––our life here with her.
We were all trying our best. But we were unraveling. Noah was going through a breakup with his long-term girlfriend, Margo,andshe was pregnant. Tully was on a professional hockey team, but he was partying too much and getting in too many fights on the ice. Goldie looked like the spark had gone out of her eyes. She had finished school and was considering taking a job in California, but I couldn’t tell if she was excited about it or just trying to keep moving like I was. Dylan had just announced to the family that he wasn’t going back to the U of M…he was opening a surf shop in California. Totally left field.
My poor dad. He was quieter than I’d ever seen him. He worked way too hard and was insistent that we not worry about him, but we all did. He looked haggard, but any time any of us tried to stick around to be there for him, it seemed like we just upset him more. He wanted to be together when it worked out for us, but he also wanted us to keep our commitments and live our lives.
None of us knew the right thing to do.
It felt like all of us were just going through the motions. When everyone finally went to bed, I felt the walls closing in on me.
I went outside and found myself walking toward one of the places I’d always felt carefree––the tree house. This place had been a refuge when I was a kid. I’d spent many days there with my brothers and sister, and with Jackson and Juju. In the early days of building it, sometimes I felt like the entire world was no bigger than the boards under us and the sound of the lake in the distance.
The ladder creaked under my weight as I climbed. When I reached the top, I pulled myself inside, feeling like a giant in the small space. And then I froze.
Because Juju was already there.
She whipped her head toward me, her eyes wide. “Camden?”
The last couple of times I’d seen her, I had been awful. She’d tried to comfort me when Mom died, and I’d shoved away any kind of sympathy. Throughout the past year, she’d tried again to show kindness to me, and I hadn’t been exactly the worst, but I hadn’t been warm either.
I didn’t know why the thought of her comforting me made me feel like I’d break, and there’d be no fitting myself back together.
“Juju.” My throat was dry. “I didn’t think you guys were in town.”
She looked stunning. As always. It hurt to look at her. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, the ends swishing around her arms. She wore a fitted tracksuit, and I wanted to drink her in but tried really hard not to stare at her.
“My parents and I got in tonight. Jackson will be here a little later,” she said. “Sorry. I know it’s probably weird that I’m here. I just…still like to come out here sometimes.”
“I get it.”
The silence between us stretched, broken only by the faint groan of the boards under us. I didn’t know whether to back out and pretend I’d never come or to make an effort.
Juju decided for me. She sat on one of the pillows, tucked her legs to the side, and asked quietly, “You’ve been in France?”
