I turn so my feet are on the floor and gradually stand. “You okay?”
She doesn’t answer right away. And suddenly I forget to breathe.
When I speak, the words rush out. “I couldn’t wake you and you were sleeping so peacefully. I didn’t know if your house was unlocked and I didn’t want to wake anyone up, so I brought you here.”
She nods, rubbing her arms like she’s still shaking off a dream.
“Thanks,” she says softly.
We’re quiet for a second, the silence getting heavier the longer it drags on. Her hair falls into her face and she lets it stay there, blinking at me with the one eye showing.
“I should get going.”
“Oh, okay.” I try not to sound disappointed, but my chest twists anyway.
And then I wonder why the hell it would. It’s not like we hang out and talk. We’d probably end up fighting as usual.
She’s walking past me and out the door faster than I can blink. I just stare after her for a second.
By the time I drag myself to the coffeepot to start the day, that weird heaviness in my chest is nagging.
I spend the whole day hanging out with the family before I go to the restaurant. I have a busy night, but I spend most of it trying to shake that feeling off.
It’s a feeling I have way too often around Juju.
And I don’t know why now—if it’s because I could tuck her away as a memory when I lived in Colorado and now she’s in front of me all the time, front and center—but I just can’t stand for it to be this way between us anymore.
As long as I’m being honest with myself, I should admit that she’s always been front and center for me.
That’s been the root of the problem all along.
I don’t know how to change things or if I even can.
It might be too late.
More than a week later, I still haven’t seen Juju.
It’s been busier than ever, out-of-towners coming in to try out the restaurant and to get a glimpse of the gorgeous resort that everyone in Minnesota is talking about.
Windhaven is impressive. My dad had a vision for a mini Rivendell straight out of the pages ofTheLord of the Rings, and he’s accomplished just that. It’s spectacular, and the inside is shaping up to be just as exceptional.
We’re doing a soft opening of the lodge in May, which will give us a couple of weeks to adjust before our busy season starts. It looks as if some of the cabins will be ready by then as well. My brother Noah has had contractors from all over the state coming in to help get this project done. My dad worked in real estate for ages and had established relationships with so many contractors through the years that when they found out Everett Whitman had cancer and wanted to do this new endeavor, they were eager to jump on board. It’s been a labor of love for everyone involved, even though my dad has insisted on paying very well.
I have plenty to do at the restaurant, but somehow I end up at The Kitty-Corner Cafe. I’m sure it’s a bad decision before I ever step inside, but since I’m here, I go on in. Loud singing catches me off guard when I open the door. Hector and Hal are flanking Juju behind the counter and half singing, half shouting an old Motown song. Juju’s gaze ping-pongs between the two, her expression both amused and exasperated. I feel her pain—it’d be hard for me to focus on the job at hand with all this commotion, and yet, the customers are eating it up.
Her hair is pulled back. She’s gorgeous—an effortless beauty no matter what she’s wearing, whether she has makeup on or not, and whose smile can light up any room she’s in.
I miss the way her smile would light up whenever she saw me.
My chest tightens the second her eyes catch mine. I brace myself for whatever sharp jab she’ll have for me and tell myself not to bite back quite so hard this time.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, the corners of her lips lift slightly, and even though it doesn’t reach her eyes, it’s almost a smile.
“Hey, Camden,” she says, like I’m just another customer.
I blink, thrown off-balance.
