Almost Just Friends (Wildstone #4)(74)

His dad made a rough sound deep in his throat, but Cam wasn’t sure if it was agreement or anger. He deserved the anger.

Winnie simply closed her eyes.

He didn’t dare look at Piper, couldn’t face what she must be thinking of him. But nor could he stop now, not until he got it all out. “After we yelled at each other, he tried to leave. He wanted to go home, and instead of making him stay, I drove him to the airport. We didn’t make it halfway before—” He broke off and clamped his jaw tight to try to not lose his shit completely.

“No,” Winnie said. “That’s not on you.” She turned him to face her. “You knew Rowan, he was stubborn as hell. He was pissy because he knew you were right. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for what happened.”

Squeezing her hand, he looked down at the canister. “We all miss you,” he said and closed his eyes.

At his side, Piper wrapped an arm around him. Winnie was still holding on to him from the other side. But it was his dad who stepped right in front of him, eyes wet, voice raw. “As a dad, as your dad, I want to demand something of you right here, right now. I know I have no right, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

Cam braced for his dad to agree that he was at fault.

But that wasn’t what happened. His dad reached up and cupped Cam’s face. “Winnie said it best. Rowan wouldn’t have blamed you, son. And neither do I. No one blames you for what happened that night. No one. We’re just grateful you’re alive, so fucking grateful. So even though there’s nothing to forgive, you’re forgiven anyway. Now all you have to do is forgive yourself. Something I know a little bit about after giving you up to your mom. Forgiving myself for that was a long time coming, and if I’m being honest, I haven’t really managed it fully.”

“Dad.” He shook his head. “It’s okay.”

His dad pressed their foreheads together. “It’s getting there.”

When Emmitt finally let him go and stepped back, Cam swiped his eyes with his forearm, opened the canister, and . . . let Rowan go.

When it was done, Winnie took the canister and clutched it to her chest as they all watched the ashes slowly vanish from view. “Now he’ll always be here with us,” she said softly.

Piper wrapped her arms around Cam, and just like when his dad had touched him, it warmed him. He dropped his head to her shoulder and did something he’d never done in his life.

Took comfort from another human being.

They stood there for a long time, but eventually they all walked home, where Gavin made baked mac and cheese from scratch. And hot dogs. “To eat this time, not throw,” he said. “And there’s chocolate cake for dessert. Comfort food, from the heart.”

The food and company were exactly that, comforting, but halfway through the cake, it happened. He’d been ignoring the signs, the metallic taste in his mouth, the odd aura of lights flashing in his peripheral vision. But suddenly he could no longer ignore it, or the staggering pain. He managed to get to his feet, knowing what he needed, but he’d waited too long.

“What’s wrong?” Piper asked, standing with him, taking his hand, looking concerned.

He opened his mouth to answer, but it felt like someone was stabbing a hot poker into his left eyeball, robbing him of thoughts and the ability to speak.

“Migraine,” Emmitt said, eyes on Cam. “They’re rare, but he gets them when he’s stressed. He needs a quiet dark room, no noise.”

“Just going to go home,” Cam murmured, eyes squinted because it hurt to open them all the way. Both cold and sweating, he had to put a hand on the wall to keep the world from spinning, which pissed him off. He’d learned through some seriously brutal military training how to let pain course through him on its way out of his body, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel every inch of it as it went.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Piper said. “Not when you can barely stand. I’ve got you this time, Cam.”

Having her say that was staggering. No one had ever said such a thing to him. “I just need to sleep it off.” He turned to the door.

But Piper had a grip of steel on him. “No way.”

He knew he was going to give in, mostly because he was going to pass out. “Bossy,” he murmured. And also smart as hell, resourceful, resilient, tough as nails, and she never failed to brighten his day or make him smile. And since he couldn’t imagine making it home, he let her take his hand and pull him out of the kitchen.

She took him to her bedroom. Without turning on the lights, she led him to the bed before unbuttoning his shirt. She pushed it off his shoulders and nudged him to sit on the bed, where he narrowly missed squishing Sweet Cheeks.

“Meow,” she said in bitchy protest, and jumped down. Which was a hell of a lot better than their first interaction had gone.

Cam bent to untie his boots, but his fingers felt wooden.

“Here,” Piper said. “I’ve got it.” And dropped to her knees to tug them off one by one.

He let out a careful breath. “Not exactly what I imagined you doing when I got you into this position.”

A smile curved her lips, but her eyes remained worried as she lifted her head. “You imagined me on my knees for you?”

“Once or twice.” Or every other minute of the day . . . He let himself fall onto his back when she got his boots off, too shaky to do more. “But just so you don’t think I’m a misogynist pig, in my fantasies, I go to my knees and do you first.”