“Should I go ask him?” he asked, moving a step forward. I reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. That wouldn’t be good.
“No,” I said and quickly composed myself. “You know how weird some men can be in places like this. I’m sure he’s just harmless. Maybe he thinks he knows you from somewhere. Or maybe he’s a customer. You can’t remember them all.”
Camden rubbed at his chin. “Maybe. Though you’d think I’d remember those googly eyes. Well anyway, is it cool if we leave after these beers? It’s getting late and the drive home is killer.”
I told him sure, secretly thrilled to be getting out of there now that my plan was put in motion. I was also a wee bit apprehensive about how our date would end. Would I go to his place? Would he come to mine? Would we drive out to Joshua Tree, which seemed like a different world when it was night, sit on the top of his jeep, and share a few beers (what, like I hadn’t been fantasizing about that)?
We said our goodbyes to the rest of the band and a few people Camden knew, garnered one last watchful glare from scapegoat, and then we were off, roaring down the road back toward Palm Valley.
Guano Padano provided our cinematic soundtrack, and by the time Camden was pulling his car down the palm-lined road back to Uncle Jim’s, we’d been chatting non-stop and were almost breathless. The cold desert wind rocked the jeep as we came to a stop and messed my hair around my eyes. I was glad he couldn’t see them properly. I was nervous as all hell—something new to me—and was feeling as awkward as a thirteen-year-old. I tried to remember that Camden had already kissed me all those years ago, but it didn’t change a thing.
I unsnapped my seatbelt and twisted in my seat to look at him, pushing some of the hair out of my face.
“Thanks so much for the great evening,” I told him, sounding more like a cliché by the minute.
“Thanks for coming,” he grinned. A fresh crop of goose bumps sprouted on my arms. Damn, he was going to have to hide those lips somewhere before I stole them.
“Well…” I said. I was starting to fidget, unsure if I should stay and wait for him to either kiss me or suggest we continue our date, but he just kept smiling. And then he put his hand on the gear shift as if he was going to put it in drive.
“Well, I hope you have a great time in Palm Valley. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
The smile melted off my mouth.
What?
“Uh, yeah, totally,” I said, feeling more stupid by the second. I grabbed my purse and hopped out of the jeep, looking back at him with a stunned expression.
He raised his hand in a wave. “Goodnight, Ellie.”
I copied him. “Good night, Camden,” I whispered.
He gunned the jeep and it took off around the cul-de-sac and down the road. I didn’t walk into the house, I just stood there at the foot of the driveway, watching as the jeep’s red lights got smaller and smaller and then eventually disappeared as he turned onto the other road. Then the roar of his engine was gone and I was engulfed by the sound of crickets and the blanket of stars above my head.
What the hell? What happened to asking me out on another date? Or trying to get laid? Or at least a kiss? I thought the whole evening had been going well and suddenly it was, “see ya.” Not even a “we should do this again sometime” and other polite promises. Nothing!
I slowly turned on my heel and slinked back to the house, feeling like a balloon with its air let out. I had really counted on Camden liking me. I had counted on a lot of things. Now I couldn’t be sure of anything.
And for all the effort, for all my plans of scamming the guy, the thing that hurt the most was the rejection. I thought we really had something. Somehow, all these years later, Camden McQueen had managed to put me in his shoes.
To put it mildly, I didn’t like it.
***
You know when you’re upset over something and you look forward to the light of morning because you’ll have some sort of clarity over the situation, as if you’ll work out your problem while you sleep?
Yeah, that didn’t happen here. I woke up angry and annoyed. Part of it was that my old bed in the spare bedroom had scratchy, dusty sheets that probably hadn’t been changed since I was a teenager, but mainly it was because of Camden. He must have been in my dreams or something because my first thought as I opened my eyes to the sharp sunlight streaming in my window was “damn him.”