Just Between Us (Nashville is Calling, #2)

by Madison Wright

“Are you taking me outside to murder me?” A small, devastating smile tips up one corner of his mouth. “You’ve got me figured out. I really thought that plan was going to work,” he says. “If you’re going to put my body parts in canning jars, please don’t put them in a fluorescent liquid. I don’t look good in neon.”

“So let me get this straight,” she says when I finally finish. “You, Camden Lane, went out last night?” “Yes, Hazel,” I grumble. “You act like I’m a hermit.” “You’re not a hermit. You just hate people and activities.”

Cam’s eyes shoot up to mine. “Oh?” Although I want to slap myself in the face for what I just admitted, I can’t help the smile that tugs on my lips. “Do you know other words?” A slow grin takes over his face, and it’s absolutely devastating, forming crinkles in all the places that means he does this often. “Oh,” he repeats, and I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me.

Wes follows her in, and with a smirk says, “I love what you’ve done with the place.” I look around the barren apartment. “Interior design is my passion.”

Sadie is my best friend, and I share almost everything with her, but I keep my deepest secrets for Ethel alone. She’s crass and honest and always gives me the best advice. I want more than anything to spill my guts to her about the entire thing right here and now. But that’s the problem, apparently. In my parents’ eyes, I should never be close enough with a resident to share the most vulnerable pieces of my heart with them. “I’m good,” I tell her and plaster a smile on my face. “How are you?” “A little pissed that you’re lying to me,” she says, crossing one bony leg over the other and pinning me with her milky blue eyes.

“I think the moon landing was fake,” Alex announces, tugging me down into the chair next to him. “Let’s discuss.”

“This bread is delicious,” Adam says loudly. “So good I might end up choking on it later,” Alex whispers and nudges me under the table.

“Last time I showed up to help you move, you hadn’t packed. And then I had to carry your stuff up three flights of stairs to the place you’re in now. And you remember what I told you that day?” “No.” “That that was the last time I helped you move.” “I think you said groove,” Alex says,

I swing open the door, expecting the maintenance supervisor who was shaking car keys at an armadillo the other day, but find Ellie standing there instead.

but it’s Cam who catches my eye. He’s dressed normally, in his jeans that hug him in all the right places, a threadbare gray T-shirt, and his brown corduroy jacket. There’s a sticker over the breast pocket that reads Hi, I’m Dave. I actually laugh aloud looking at it. I barely know Cam, but his stupid costume makes me want to.

The gesture threatens my resolve, almost makes me open the door back up and hug him until that severe line above his brows melts. Instead, I fit my key in the ignition and turn. Nothing happens. The engine tries to start but doesn’t turn over. I meet Cam’s concerned stare through the window, but before I can try again, the door swings open. “It won’t start,” I say and cringe inwardly at my obvious statement. Camden, the sky is blue. Fish live underwater. I have no brain cells left when I’ve been in your presence for this long.

“I was so lonely that night we met. I wasn’t supposed to be at that show—you know, no fraternizing with the tenants and all—but I wanted to be there. I wanted to support them. You made me feel not so alone. And I guess tonight I wanted to feel like that again.”

At the very last second, Ellie enters the frame. The image of her smiling face backdropped with warm russet, bright saffron, and burning scarlet is captured for all eternity.

I let out a sigh and roll my shoulders back. “I think I’ve made my feelings on that front pretty clear.”

“Please don’t leave,” Ellie whispers into the crook of my neck, sending goose bumps prickling along my skin. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.

“Because, Ellie, sometimes what you want and what you need are two very different things.” His gaze pierces mine. “What do you want?” I want this. I want him.

He is everything simple and lovely in life, and I can’t believe he came back here.

“I don’t know anything because you won’t tell me, but I know there’s something I need to know.”

yell back, “Your neighbors are going to complain about this noise!” “Nonsense! Newman hasn’t been able to hear since Y2K,

“The best relationships are the ones you have to fight for.”

A cold breeze kicks up my hair, sending it flying around me. I reach up, intending to tuck it behind my ears, but stop when Cam says, “No, leave it. You’re perfect.”

“What kind are we having tonight?” “Butternut squash. I channeled my inner Camden Lane and made it myself.” “That so?” “You don’t want to see my kitchen. It’s a disaster.”

The conversation with Wes is still playing on a loop in my head when I let myself in Ellie’s door later. She gave me her spare key when she was sick, skipping fifteen relationship steps, so she didn’t have to get up off the couch and walk down the stairs to let me in.

“Hey, son!” Dad calls down from the ladder. “I’d give you a hug, but I’m trying to clean the gutter right now.”

I stoop down to give him a hug. “Hey, Uncle Anthony. What happened to your knee?” “Fell off the ladder trying to clean the gutters.”

“The first time I made tea for you, you kept talking about how good it was and how you were going to have to keep me around to make it for you every night.” I pause, not meaning to end up where my sentence took me. “I just wanted you to keep me around, I guess.”

“Yeah, I’m home,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

I take my outfit from Cam, and duck under his arm as he opens the dressing room for me. His eyes linger on me, standing beneath the fluorescent lighting in a thrift shop fitting room, as he says, “See you on the other side, Daisy.”

“I figured it was kind of self-explanatory,” he says with a wry twist of his lips. I dig my toes into his thigh. “Don’t make me regret complimenting you.”

“You, Ellie Bates, are the thing I love photographing most.” I swallow. “More than sunrises?” “Mm-hmm.”

“I have a favor to ask, and you can say no.” Cam settles back against the couch again too, his hand wrapping around my calf once more. “I’ll do it.” One corner of my mouth tips up at his quick answer. “You don’t even know what it is.” He shrugs. “I’ll still do it.”

“Can I at least ask you before you agree?” “Too late. I’ve already decided.”

“Are you nervous?” he asks. His eyes are serious, but the tiniest of smiles is playing at his lips. “Not even a little.” His mouth twitches. “You’re a bad liar.” I pin him with a stare. “Which is exactly why I’m nervous.”

“If you want my opinion, your parents can go screw themselves for all I care.”

“Every time we’re together, I always wish I had it, but I usually don’t.” “And why’s that?” I lean my head down, nuzzling my nose into Ellie’s hair so I can speak directly into her ear. “There’s always a moment I wish I could stop time and take a photo of you.”

“I’m really glad you sat at my table one night in October, Camden Lane.”

I roll my eyes and tug Ellie to her feet. Her soft laugh fills all the empty spots in my chest, and I think to myself that I could listen to her forever.

He’s mesmerizing, and I want to wake up to this view every day. His eyes flutter open, locking on mine, and a slow smile curves his mouth. That smile makes butterflies take flight in my belly.

“Fontana Ridge,” Cam breathes. I stare up at him. “That’s it. How did you know that?” “That’s my hometown,” he tells me, and my brows climb up my forehead in disbelief. “That’s my aunt and uncle’s farm. And my mom makes all the stuff in the shop.” My eyes widen in shock and disbelief. “Really?” “Yeah, Daisy,” he says, his lips quirking in a smile. “I kept thinking you smelled like home, and now I know why.”

My heart hammers in my chest at the thought of her, and I hope I never outgrow this feeling. I hope every time I see Ellie I feel just like this—frenzied with anticipation, overwhelmed with longing, and absolutely bursting with joy. It’s ridiculous, but I never want it to end.

My heart stutters at those words, and a thousand tiny moments flash through my mind—Camden making me soup when I was sick, smiling at me in the dark on top of the world, FaceTiming me and telling me to look at the stars, adding a little more honey to my tea every night until I was addicted to it. No, nothing with Cam was inappropriate. It was magic.

“It was you,” she breathes. “I wanted you to be there.”

“You, Camden Lane. I want you.”

Most nights he comes over and cooks dinner, and we end up on my couch, my feet tucked under his thigh, the golden stars from the pendant light that used to hang in my room painting the walls around us.

I hear the front door open. “Ellie, you here?” Just like it always does, my heart picks up its rhythm at the sound of Cam’s voice. A year and a half later, and he still gives me butterflies.

You’re a striped sweater in a sea of black dresses, he told me once. It’s something I repeat to myself often when I’m feeling lost or unsteady. I may not always know exactly who I am or who I want to be, but Cam does.

“Will you marry me, Daisy?”