Chapter Five

Sophie

“Do you want to talk about it? Your fears, I mean?” I had wound a section of my long dark hair around a finger while I spoke. I’d been doing this for as long as I could remember to distract myself from my fears. This time, I was both scared, and scared for him.

Cameron shook his head. “Not now. Maybe later.” He stood and blew out his breath, then raised his hands to the sky and inhaled deeply.

I stared at his physique, the way his body gradually narrowed from his broad shoulders down to his waist. In my mind, I could absolutely picture wrapping my arms around him and pressing my head to his chest so I could hear his heartbeat. At the moment, I could feel him withdrawing. “I understand. Let me show you the dock.” With one hand, I gestured out around the land surrounding the back of the house. “See this view?”

“It’s absolutely perfect,” he noted with a blissful sigh.

I nodded. “It really is, which is why I couldn’t even think about sticking a dock there and obstructing it in any way.” We took a few more steps, and I pointed down the embankment. “I have a little cove here. I thought this would be the ideal place to tuck away a dock and boat, maybe even entertain.” My shoulders sank.

“Entertain?” Cameron’s brow furrowed. “I was under the impression no one had ever been here. This is our secret, right?” He forced a smile.

My cheeks colored. “I have a rich imagination. There was this guy . . .” I watched as his face turned pinker the more I spoke. I frowned. “Are you OK?”

He nodded, tight-lipped. “Tell me about this guy.” He jammed his hands in his pockets.

I studied him and frowned. “OK.” I blew out a breath. “It’s silly. There’s this guy I liked many years ago. He completely ruined me. You’d think I’d learned my lesson, but nope. I’m still stuck on him.” I shrugged, feeling suddenly ridiculous in Cameron’s eyes.

“Did this guy have a name?” He swiped at his brow where a sweat had broken out. “I mean, if it’s a long time ago, then it shouldn’t matter.”

I groaned. “You’re going to think I’m stupid. He never knew I existed. Then when he finally noticed me, everything ended up worse instead of better.” I took a few more steps on the path. “There’s the boat. And there’s a deck above the lift. There’s even room for a Jet Ski.” I pointed to the empty space beside the boat. “We were going to have parties up top . . . cook out, snuggle, and toast the sunset.” I wrapped my arms around my body. I couldn’t even look at Cameron. The pity I knew I’d see in his eyes would break me. “This is actually the longest I’ve been outside,” I commented, eager to change the subject. When I finally managed to work up the nerve to glance at him, he still seemed upset.

“A name,” he gritted out.

“Promise you won’t tease me?” I watched him for a reaction.

The bulges in his pockets grew, and I suspected his hands had now formed fists. “Never,” Cameron whispered.

I don’t know why, but I believed him. I trusted him, even. And I never trusted anyone. I’d learned the hard way so many years ago. For some reason, this seemed wildly important to him. “And you won’t tell him, even if you know him?” I had to cover all my bases here.

“My lips are sealed.” He seemed to relax some, probably because he sensed he was about to have his way.

“I can’t even look at you when I tell you,” I muttered. “This is so hard. Only Katie has ever known. I feel so stupid and ashamed, carrying this crush for more than ten years.” I turned my back to him and wrapped my arms tightly around my body. This was the only hug I’d allowed myself in more years than I could recall. I’m pretty sure my parents hadn’t hugged me since the day Dylan had killed himself.

“Please, Sophie.” His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

I nodded. Already I feared I’d burst into tears from the shame of it all. “C. J. Everett. I’ve loved him from afar since sixth grade. Just . . . tell no one, OK?” I waited for a response, but Cameron said nothing. Swallowing hard, I slowly turned to face him.

Cameron

 

I’m not sure what troubled me more: finding out she’d had a crush on me all these years that I’d never acted on, or hearing that she believed I’d ruined her life. My jaw hung open. Emotions flooded through me. I had no idea I could be ecstatic and devastated at the same time. Then the nagging fear cropped up. She was too good for me. What would Sophie want with a guy like me? She didn’t even know me. She was in love only with the idea of me.

“Say something,” she pleaded.

With some effort, I managed to close my mouth and lick my lips before responding. My eyes were wide with shock and awe. “Your secret is safe with me,” I assured her as best I could.

Sophie squeezed her eyes shut for a split second. “Thank you. This means more than you could ever know. I haven’t had a lot of people I could trust in my life.” She swung her arms and clapped her hands in front of her chest. “Shall we go eat? Unless, of course, you’re in a rush to return to the city.”

Fan-fucking-tastic. She trusted me. And I wanted to keep that trust. Somehow, I doubted this was the time to reveal my true identity.

“You look . . . strange,” Sophie murmured. “Maybe we should go inside. Maybe your blood sugar is all out of whack. I’ve never seen anyone pale so quickly.” She continued babbling while already hiking toward the house. “I mean, you went stark white. I guess that’s stark white. I’m talking the total absence of color.” She shook her head, and I sensed she was going to continue.

I really couldn’t listen to any more. I knew why I’d paled, and if she knew why, we’d both be destroyed. “Mind if I use your bathroom?” I interrupted as we entered the main floor of the house.

“Oh, sure, whatever . . .” Her voice trailed off, and I could tell the wheels were turning in her head. How I’d love to have known what she was thinking right now, but I had bigger concerns at the moment.

“Gimme a few minutes.” I laid a hand on her lower back as I passed her. I don’t even know why I did that. I half expected her to flinch or push my hand away as she had earlier, but this time Sophie seemed to warm to my touch. I gnawed on my bottom lip as I strode into the bathroom and shut the door behind me was quickly as possible without creating too much noise. Once I’d secured the lock, I stared at my face. She hadn’t exaggerated. I made Casper look practically tan. After some deep breaths, my color began to return to normal.

Then I imagined her reaction to finding out I was C. J., all grown up and back to ruin her again. Immediately, my heart was in my throat, and my stomach churned. “I’ll never hurt you again, Sophie,” I whispered. If only I knew what I’d done the first time to cause her so much pain. Yanking my phone out of my pocket, I did a search on her and her family. This wasn’t the first time. And like times past, the usual popped up, the same exact articles I’d read and studied previously.

I knew her brother had committed suicide, but how this was my fault absolutely baffled me. This was the last piece of information published on any of them for several years. Then articles about Simply Sophie appeared. After seeing part of her holdings, I realized she was far more successful than the interviews and blog posts let on. Not so long ago, I had trouble believing the stories were about my Sophie, the girl I’d fallen for when we were in middle school. After all, she never showed her face in the videos. Her headshot never appeared in any of the posts. Why would she work so hard to hide her identity? What she’d built was something to be proud of. And while some might imagine her to be frivolous, given she focused on nails, I’d found her to be sweet, gentle, real, and terrified of practically everything.

Every second I was around her, the marine in me wanted to protect her. My instincts were strong. My cause was just. I merely had to figure out how to get through to her. After all these years, I had to find a way to unravel the mystery that was Sophie and help her overcome her phobias too.

There was a light knock on the door. “Cameron,” she called, “are you OK? I’m worried about you.”

Suddenly filled with guilt, I realized I’d become one more cause of angst. “I’m good. Gimme a second. I’ll be right out.”

“Great. Then we can eat. And I guess we should talk about your plans.” She sounded both excited and scared.

I turned on the faucet and quickly rinsed my hands, then splashed some water on my face. There hadn’t been a second for me to clean up after the fire, which meant I was absolutely filthy. I needed a shower. I needed fresh clothes. And I’d give all of that up for the opportunity to stay with Sophie. But why would she let me stick around?

After drying my hands and patting my face, I slowly opened the door. Sure enough, Sophie was sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting for me to exit the bathroom.

“Shall we play it by ear?” I asked quietly. “What if we eat, and then we’ll take it from there?”

“That sounds nice.” Sophie studied me, then frowned. “You’re going to want fresh clothes. And a shower.”

“What? You didn’t plan for a strange man to be here?” I teased.

She shook her head. “No, I thought that dream had died.” Her cheeks turned pink. “I just meant . . . I never expected a guy to be here . . .” She covered her face with both hands.

I chuckled as I crossed the room to stand in front of her. “No need to be ashamed or shy with me.” I gently tugged her hands away from her face. I could feel her trembling under my touch. That only made me want to crush her to me even more, silence her nerves, let her know someone did care about her, the same someone she’d wanted for all those years. I shook my head. Maybe I’d better not take it that far. “Let’s go eat. We’ll figure out something for clothes.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “We’ll just let life be.”

“I like that. I’ve never done it, mind you, but it sounds awesome. The military is all about plans. And before that I was in football. I’d considered going pro, after I left the service, but—”

“Why not? If you love it and you’re good at it, you should chase your dream. Seriously.” She nodded emphatically.

My face scrunched up as I stared at her. “Is that what you did? Is this your passion?” I held up her hand and studied her fingernails. “These are beautiful. And unexpected,” I noted.

Sophie bit her lower lip, then spoke. “How’s that?”

“Well, your nails are a departure from your personality.” I watched her open her mouth, and I could feel her positively seething. “Before you jump down my throat, will you hear me out?”

Her brow shot up. “Fine.” The word came out frosty, much like she intended, no doubt.

“So you seem reserved, like I’d expect to see a classic French manicure, but these nails are works of art, true masterpieces.” I shook my head in wonder. “I mean . . . I don’t even know how to describe these. Anyway, my point is, the nails are a departure from the woman you present in person. Make sense?”

“The nails are work. They are business.” She pulled her hand from my grasp and studied them a moment. “They change all the time. Sometimes several times a week. They’re fun,” Sophie grumbled defensively. Then she added in a low, quiet voice, “I used to be fun.”