“Nate,” she groans, “give me more than that.”
I chuckle, bumping her knee under the table. “There’s not much more to say. We talked. He’s not thrilled, but he’s not out for my blood anymore.”
“Really?” Her face lights up, her smile beaming, dimples on full display.
This feeling I get, whenever she’s happy, the one that tightens my chest and makes my heart beat double time, is the exact reason why I’m not rushing anything.
Why I’d wait forever if I had to.
Because this girl? She’s worth everything.
She’s worth the wait.
5
Two Weeks Later
Maddie Grace
“Maddie Grace! Wait for me, chick,”Addie, my new friend, calls as she steps out of her cabin.
“Ugh, can you just call me Maddie?” I groan.
“Not today,” she teases, exaggerating my name with a stereotypical Southern accent. “Maddie Grace Cunningham.”
She’s ditched her camp tee and is now in a tie-dyed hoodie and patchwork jean shorts that are cut, frayed, and covered in hand-painted abstract designs.
Her curly strawberry-blonde hair is twisted into the chicest messy bun, all held together by something she calls “kanzashi hair sticks,” which she picked up while traveling in Japan with her parents.
Adelaide is a born-and-bred New Yorker, raised by famous artist parents, and lives in a large, open SoHo loft.
I was speechless the first time we spoke.
She’s the coolest girl I’ve ever met, living my dream life.
And I don’t mean “cool” as in “popular.” I mean, she’s effortlessly herself without giving a damn about anyone else.
Addie has the most outrageous fashion sense, zero filter, and an unapologeticI-Don’t-Give-An-Fattitude about anything.
She has the wildest stories, from globe-trotting with her parents and befriending strangers in different countries, to watching her parents get inspired for their next installations.
And somehow, she’smyfriend now.
We clicked instantly.
I only wish she were here from day one. Instead, for the first two weeks of camp, she was spending time in Australia visiting her dad’s side of the family.
“I wonder why you’re walking so fast?” she teases.
“No reason,” I sing-song, picking up my pace when I break through the trees.
My heart leaps the second I reach the beach and spot him.
Nate sees me just as quickly, and in an instant, he’s up, prowling toward me. He reaches me first, scoops me up, and spins me around.
When he stops, I wrap my legs around his waist so he can’t put me down.
“Missed you today, Mads,” he murmurs against my throat.
