Page 77 of Sand in My Boots

“What’s your plan?”

“Still working on it. I wasn’t ready to take classes this summer, and unless I take a full course load plus an extra class, I won’t graduate in December. If I have to put in another year, might as well take three each semester.”

Her logic isn’t the worst idea in the world, though in her situation, I’d rather get it over with and be done. It’s probably a good thing Cameron and I didn’t start anything so many years ago. I probably would have flunked out of college, too, if we were as explosive as this past week.

“How did you lose touch with Cameron?”

Her question catches me off guard. “Huh?”

“After your less than stellar romp in the pool house. What happened? Why did you not see him for so many years?”

“Um, I don’t have a good answer. Despite the act itself, we parted on good terms. It was one of those things that kinda happened. I went back to my life, and he went back to his. I didn’t have his number, and I wasn’t asking Preston for it. Guess he thought the same way.”

“Speaking of big bro, does he know about last week?”

“I didn’t tell him. Not sure if Cameron did.”

“Did you ask him?”

“No. Why would I ask Preston that?”

Her head moves erratically from side to side. “Cameron. Have you asked him if he said anything to Preston?”

“Again, no.”

“Why not?”

“Not sure.”

“What happened last week? Did things end badly? Is that why you’re living in filth?”

Leave it to Elisa to overexaggerate my situation.

“No,” I whisper, tears beginning to form. I was done crying. Damn you, Elisa.

“Okayyyyy, so are you going to try long distance?” I can’t make my mouth form the word, so a head shake it is. “Because he doesn’t want to?” A one-shoulder shrug. “Because you don’t want to?”

“It’s not like that with him. We’re friends.” I choke on the word. I wish it could be more. But he’s probably right. It wouldn’t ever work between us. I hate that we don’t get to try.

Elisa has more to say, but for once in her life, she keeps her thoughts to herself, wrapping me in an embrace instead. “You’ll find someone for you, Juli. He’s out there.”

It’s hard to hear, even if it’s true.

Years ago, sex was horrible, but the kiss we shared was astounding. Never in all my life have I found someone to be a better kisser than Cameron. Last week solidified that. Add to it the amazing sex and everything else about our connection . . . sigh.

“You need a distraction. Want to hit the bar tonight?”

“The exact opposite of what I want to do.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but I’m not accepting it. You need closure, a romp in the hay with another man who will boot Cameron out of your headspace for good. You can’t pine over a man you had lousy sex with, even if he more than made up for it. There are so many more fish in the sea. Let’s go fishing.” She’s overly excited about the prospect of this. “I’ll be your wingwoman tonight. Give me some parameters, and I’ll cast the net.”

“Taking these fishing metaphors to the extreme, are you not?”

“Do you want to get over Cameron?”

“I’d very much like to get under him.” Oops. Didn’t mean to say that aloud.

Elisa’s face illuminates, and before she speaks, I know I won’t like the idea, no matter what it is.