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Just Like This (Just Like This Series Book 1) by Rebecca Gallo (9)

Chapter Nine

Cami

I wanted to murder Palmer for asking Garrett to drive Nikki home. I didn’t want her in my guest house either, but I couldn’t stand the thought of Garrett alone with her for more than ten minutes. Jealousy was an unfamiliar emotion, and with each glance at the clock, my patience started to fray, and I inched closer to complete irrationality.

“Jesus, how long is this going to take?” I hissed as I flipped another confetti pancake.

“If you don’t want to make pancakes, Cami, you don’t have to,” Palmer told me through a mouthful of pancake.

“I’m talking about Garrett walking Nikki over to the guest house. It’s not like he could have gotten lost.” I scooped the pancake onto my spatula and placed it on the plate in front of Jackson. He eagerly cut into it and took a bite. I smiled appreciatively. I liked seeing the looks of satisfaction and delight on people’s faces when I cooked or baked for them. And seeing Jackson devour pancake after pancake made me even happier because I knew that once his leave was over, he wouldn’t get homemade anything for a long time. I suddenly wondered why he wasn’t traveling back home to see his family.

“Jackson, are you going home before your leave is up?” I asked as I poured another dollop of batter onto my hot griddle. He looked up, surprised.

“I don’t have a family. I was in the foster care system before I enlisted. Palmer and Garrett are basically my brothers,” he said. My heart ached, and I wondered what it would be like not to have a family to come home to after being deployed for nearly a year. My thoughts instantly gravitated toward my father. I knew he would be gone soon, but at least I had Valerie. Jackson didn’t have anyone.

“Well, now you have me. I’ll send you care packages.” Talking to Jackson was a momentary distraction because one glance back at the clock made my eyes turn green with jealousy.

“Seriously, he’s been gone for twenty minutes.”

“Maybe she’s sick,” Palmer offered. “He wouldn’t leave her alone if she was throwing up.”

I shifted uncomfortably because I didn’t want to admit that Palmer had a point. If Nikki was really drunk, she could easily be sick. “I’ll go and check on them, then.”

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as I made my way to the front door. When I stepped outside and looked out across the driveway, I could see lights on in the guest house. So, they made it. My steps were hurried as I walked across the driveway, but I felt like I was going in slow motion. When I reached the door, I twisted the handle until it opened easily.

I stepped inside and heard a giggle and then a moan. My voice was caught in my throat. Garrett said she was nothing more than a friend, but Nikki clearly didn’t feel that way. I felt nauseous as I rounded the corner to the open living space, and my legs started to buckle at the sight in front of me. Nikki sat on the couch, her fingers grasped around the waistband of Garrett’s jeans. She had a satisfied smirk on her lips and a wicked gleam in her eye as she giggled again.

“God, I can’t wait to have your cock in my mouth again,” she slurred. “I’m so hungry for it.”

I covered my mouth with my hand. Again? That implied they had done this before. I stumbled back into the hall and out of the front door.

Palmer and Jackson were still eating pancakes in the kitchen when I returned, and they both looked up with concerned expressions.

“Cami? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Palmer rushed over and grasped my elbow to help keep me steady. He directed me over to the small kitchen table, and I sat down, my knees still trembling.

“You guys should just go home. I don’t feel well,” I lied. I stood and headed toward my bedroom. “I’ll clean up in the morning.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to call Valerie?” Palmer offered as he trailed after me down the hall.

“No. I’ll be fine. I just need to get some rest. I’ll call you in the morning.” I stood in the doorway of my bedroom and looked up at Palmer. I managed a weak smile and leaned forward to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Use the spare key under the plant to lock up, okay?”

I left him there, clueless, and closed my bedroom door. Minutes later, I heard the unmistakable sound of Garrett’s voice. I sat huddled in the dark under my blankets and cursed myself for being more naïve than I had thought.

“What do you mean she’s sick? She was fine thirty minutes ago,” he said loudly.

“Dude, keep your voice down,” Palmer implored. “Call her in the morning.”

There was a thud on my bedroom door, and the handle jiggled slightly. “Cami?” He said my name like a plea. “Are you okay?”

I wanted to remain silent, but I didn’t think he’d go away without talking to me. I sat up and shuffled over to the door. I opened it a crack and murmured, “I don’t feel good. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Garrett, please. I’m exhausted.”

“Okay,” he relented. He leaned forward to place a kiss on my lips, but I turned my head to the side where it landed on my cheek instead. “Is something else wrong?”

“No,” I insisted. “I’m just tired.”

Garrett watched me carefully, inspecting every inch of my face for signs I was lying. He reached up and brushed a thumb across my cheek before sighing softly. “Thank you for coming tonight. I had an amazing time.”

“Me too,” I murmured before backing away from him into my room. We stared at each other for a moment. Honestly, I expected Garrett to be more forceful, but with a final nod, he walked down the hall. I stayed frozen in place until I heard the front door open and close. Then I returned to my bed and buried myself under the blankets. Opening my heart had been a big mistake.

* * *

In the morning, I still felt unbelievably hurt. I wanted to think that maybe what I saw wasn’t an ugly truth but a simple misunderstanding. But then I remembered Nikki’s words and the implication that she knew Garrett intimately. Why wasn’t he honest with me about that? That was what hurt. He’d brushed aside my concern, telling me she was a friend when she had previously been something more.

I got up and went through my daily routines. Valerie was home, and we planned on going to the hospital together. When I ventured into the kitchen, she didn’t look much happier than I did, so I didn’t ask questions because that was an invitation for questions of her own. And I didn’t want to have to explain my own foolishness.

We drove in silence to St. Anthony Hospital where my dad was a patient and put on brave, smiling faces for him. If he knew we were each hiding something, he didn’t say.

“I brought you a treat, but I left it in the car,” I announced. I had spent part of my morning baking away my blues. My father’s one vice was chocolate chip cookies, and I’d hoped to tempt his appetite with one or two. I leaned across his bed and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

I hurried down to the car and grabbed the pink pastry box with the cookies before heading back to his room. As I walked down the hall, I noticed the door to his room was partially shut, which usually signaled the doctor or nurse was in his room. I slowed my pace because I didn’t want to interrupt.

“What does this mean?” I heard Valerie say, which made me stop.

“The cancer is far more advanced than we thought.” The other voice was unfamiliar but most likely his oncologist.

“Does this mean more surgery? Another round of chemotherapy?” My sister’s voice sounded uncharacteristically hysterical.

“It means we do nothing. They’ve done everything, Val. I want to go home,” my father’s calm voice said. “And we don’t tell Cami.”

I pushed the door open, angry that he wanted to keep something like this from me. “Cami knows,” I cried before slamming the box of cookies down on the ground and storming out of his room.

Blind with tears, I ran out of the hospital. I stopped in the front to catch my breath and figure out where to go. There wasn’t anywhere I could easily walk, so I pulled my cell phone from my purse and opened a new text message.

ME: Can you come and pick me up?

GARRETT: Where are you?

ME: Saint Anthony’s Hospital.

GARRETT: Be there soon.

I hated myself a little for reaching out to him, but he was the only person I wanted to see, despite last night’s disastrous events. Maybe I’d let him explain in order to distract me from my grief. I found a nearby bench and sat down, hoping to process what I’d heard. Dad’s surgery hadn’t worked, and his cancer had spread. But he didn’t want to fight anymore. That was what broke my heart; he was giving up.

I hardly noticed the car pull up to the curb until a large, familiar hand landed on my knee. Garrett knelt in front of me, his hands resting on his knees, his face serious with concern.

“Tell me,” he asked quietly.

“He’s really dying,” I managed before breaking out in a round of fresh sobs. Garrett moved swiftly next to me and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face in his chest and fisted his shirt tightly in my hands. Slowly, his hands traced soothing paths up and down my back as he let me cry. When I felt calmer, I turned my face to the side and told him the rest of what I heard.

“I’m so sorry you heard that. I know what you’re going through, but please don’t make the mistake I did. Don’t run away from death. Celebrate your dad’s life with him while he’s still here,” Garrett said softly. We sat silently on the bench for a while. He stroked my hair while my body relaxed. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

I nodded my head, and he lifted me gently before we stood and walked to the car. As we left the hospital grounds, I directed him to one of my favorite local spots, and we drove in silence until we got to the restaurant.

When we were seated, Garrett seemed to want to say something. He kept shifting uncomfortably in his chair and looking around until I finally said, “Just tell me.”

“What happened last night?” His question was more of a plea, and I decided to let him. “I know you said you were tired, but I felt like there was something more, something else.”

Nervously, I looked around the restaurant, hoping to find the courage I needed to confront Garrett over what I saw in the guest house. “I walked in on you and Nikki. She was sitting on the couch, getting ready to blow you.”

He nodded his head. “Okay. Well, that didn’t happen.”

“I also heard her say that she couldn’t wait to have your cock in her mouth. Again.” All of the hurt and anger I’d felt overhearing the conversation in my father’s hospital room now shifted to what happened last night. “You told me she was just a friend. I guess what you really meant was friends with benefits.”

He splayed his hands out on the table in front of him and looked embarrassed as if I had caught him in a lie. “I apologize if I oversimplified the nature of our relationship.”

“Garrett, a truly amazing night was ruined. Last night was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time until …”

His hand shot out and grabbed one of mine, locking our fingers together. “Cami. Nothing happened with Nikki. Please believe me. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

I sighed but didn’t let go of his hand. It felt too good. “This isn’t easy for me. My mom left after I turned eighteen.” It was difficult for me to admit that to him, and I hoped he wouldn’t continue to pry.

“Thank you for telling me that.” He unexpectedly withdrew his hand and sat back against the vinyl booth. “I need to tell you something.” From the pained expression on his face, I could tell that whatever he wanted to say was eating at him. I waited for him to speak because I wanted to give him the chance to gather his thoughts.

“My leave is ending in less than two weeks,” he said plainly.

I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “Oh,” I responded. A tidal wave of emotion welled up inside me, and tears streamed down my cheeks. Garrett scrambled out of his side of the booth and over to mine where I crumpled in his arms.

“We haven’t had any time,” I whined. “We just got started.”

His thumbs wiped away my tears, and he kissed the stains left behind. “I’ll be back,” he whispered. “This is my last deployment. After this, I’ll be back for good.”

I nodded my head. “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have let my insecurities get in the way.” Inwardly, I scolded myself for having wasted the evening on a stupid misunderstanding.

The server assigned to our table came by, and Garrett told her we needed more time. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”

“Where are we going to go?”

“Palmer’s.” I shook my head. “Your house?”

“No way.”

“Then where would you suggest we go?”

A thought popped into my mind. “You drive, and I’ll direct.”