The nickname caught me off guard. I blinked, then smiled without meaning to.
He’d called me that once before—months ago—after saying my hair reminded him of strawberry shortcake. Magenta curls and platinum blonde pieces of hair framed my face. I’d rolled my eyes at him then, but secretly? I didn’t hate it. Still don’t.
“Better,” I murmured, voice a little rough. “And… kind of annoyed that you’re being sweet now. It’s throwing off my whole ‘Cam is an asshole’ worldview. You’re like a Sour Patch Kid.”
He chuckled low under his breath. “Guess you’ll have to recalibrate.”
Yeah. That was exactly the problem.
I’d been watching him—really watching him. The way his lashes cast soft shadows under his eyes, the way his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile every time I shifted against him. I wasn’t crying anymore, but I didn’t want to move.
But I must’ve been staring too long because he looked down at me, brow raised slightly.
“What are you thinking about?”
I sat up slowly, pulling my legs underneath me, careful not to break the moment but needing a little distance to breathe through it. My eyes stayed on him. He didn’t move—just waited.
“Could there ever be an us?” I finally asked quietly.
His lips parted, but no words came right away. And then—God—he blushed. Like, actually blushed. Cam Callahan, who flirted with waitresses and used to brag about his body count, sat up beside me, rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, and looked nervous.
He looked over at me like it physically pained him to say what came next.
“I’ve always thought you were beautiful for years, Harp. Like… for fucking years. And I always wanted to say something. But you’re Reed’s sister and Wren’s best friend. And I didn’t wanna mess up anything between you guys—or lose him. So I hid it. I covered it up with stupid comments, sarcasm, and semi-mean jokes. I figured it was safer if you didn’t know.”
My heart felt lodged somewhere in my throat.
He leaned forward a bit, sitting up, looking down at his hands.
“But now…” he shrugged, exhaling slowly. “After that kiss—after seeing you cry and hold it together and fall apart and still somehow be the strongest person in the damn room—I just… I can’t pretend anymore. I don’t think I want to.”
He finally looked at me.
“I’m not saying I’m ready to go shouting it from rooftops or anything, but you’ve been in my head for a long time. In my heart, too. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you until now. But I think I am just done tiptoeing through life by imaginary rules and standards that I set for myself. I want there to be an us.”
And just like that, the air in the room shifted. I wasn’t confused anymore. I was stunned. My fists clenched on top of my thighs, knuckles tight. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until the words came spilling out of me, sharp, low, and furious.
“What the fuck, Cameron?” I hissed, voice quiet but intense, careful not to wake Wren in the next room.
He furrowed his brows and blinked as if he hadn’t expected that reaction, but I kept going.
“Are you kidding me right now? Years? You’ve felt this way for so many fucking years, and you’re just now saying something?”
I was still sitting beside him, but I shifted just enough to look straight at him, fire blooming in my chest.
“I spent so long thinking you hated me,” I whispered harshly,tears stinging my eyes. “I tried so damn hard to get you to like me. To impress you. To get even the tiniest bit of approval—because you’ve always mattered to me. You are important to me.”
His jaw tightened, eyes searching mine like he wanted to explain, but I wasn’t done.
“All this time,” I said, voice catching, “I just wanted you to see me. And now you’re telling me you did? That you’ve always seen me and said nothing? That you’ve been hiding behind shitty sarcasm and half-witted insults while I?—”
He adjusted his position in my bed and then, without warning or hesitation, his lips were on mine. His hands cupped my face, warm and sure, and his mouth crashed into mine, effectively shutting me up. I froze—just for a second—before kissing him back so hard it almost hurt.
It was messy. Breathless. A little desperate. And I didn’t care.
At that moment, nothing had ever made more sense.
7
