Precious Consequences(38)

I shift, crossing my legs and tucking my feet under my butt. I don’t prompt Cameron to continue, I just wait for him to find the courage.

“I was at a party at a friends house. He stays on a ranch a few miles outside of town. I didn’t really drink much, just a beer or two since I was only nineteen. My dad came by just after midnight to pick me up and decided to let me drive.”

Cameron’s face remains impassive, but it’s the rest of his body that responds to the memory currently replaying itself in his mind. His muscles are rigid, his back straight, his hands balled into fists. Still, I wait.

“It happened so fast,” he continues. His face drops and he looks down. “I didn’t even know what was happening until it was too late.” His voice is soft and I can hear the pain, and the guilt. It’s almost smothering him, clogging up his throat. This time, I bring my hand up and rub his arm, hoping it will help him to relax.

“You can tell me, Cameron,” I encourage quietly. He doesn’t look at me but I wish he would. Somehow I think he’s worried that he’ll only see judgment if he had to look at me. That’s not true. Not even close.

“Something ran in front of my dad’s truck, and I swerved, trying to avoid it. But the truck’s tire burst and we rolled, several times. I don’t remember much after that, I don’t even remember how long we were there before someone found us and called for help. When I woke up in the hospital, about three days later, they told me I had sustained a concussion, a broken arm and a cracked rib,” he laughs but it’s bitter and derisive. “I asked about my dad and it took a while before anyone told me anything. I found out that he’d sustained a severe head trauma, broken ribs, a perforated lung and a cracked hip. But what I wasn’t prepared for was the possibility that he might never wake up. And he hasn’t.”

Cameron finally turns to face me. “I’m responsible for what happened to him. I tore our family apart.”

I frown. “How could you say that? It was an accident.”

He sighs. “It should’ve been me.”

“No!” I reply. “Don’t you dare say that. It was an accident, Cam, and you can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened.”

We remain quiet and I can’t help but wonder what this has to do with us, whatever it is that we may be.

“I needed to explain,” he says, as if reading my mind. “I’ve avoided feeling anything, because I convinced myself that I didn’t deserve to be happy. When I found out you had a daughter, I freaked out because I saw it as a complication, and I really don’t need any more complications in my life.”

“Cameron - ”

“No, wait, just listen,” he interrupts. “We decided to be friends, and I thought it was the right thing to do because I didn’t want to feel anything for you. I was afraid that if I allowed that to happen then somehow I’d end up ruining you, the way I’ve ruined my family. I would never be able to live with myself if I did that.”

I swallow hard and look down. I’m almost positive he’s rejecting my again. He was so worried about me leaving after I found out about his father, but here he is, leaving me.

My voice is quiet when I respond. “I understand.”

I slide my hands away from him and into my lap. If I could, I’d get up and leave, but Cameron is my ride.

I feel him move next to me, but I don’t look up until his finger tips my chin up. “I don’t think you do,” he says in a hushed tone.

My lip trembles and I hate myself for it. Doesn’t he think I’ve had enough? Or that I can’t do this with him anymore? We’ve been playing this stupid game for weeks and I’m at my limit. I would give anything to be able to forget about him altogether and just move on, and it’s not like I haven’t tried, but there’s a magnetism between us that I can’t ignore. It’s so clichéd, and that only makes me feel worse. It’s not that I love him, or that I’m in love with him, it’s just… I don’t know. Something keeps pulling me back to him.

“Please, take me home.”

I stand up and go to leave but Cameron wraps his hand around my arm, halting me in place. “Hayley,” he starts. “I understand if this changes how you feel about me - ”

“But that’s just it,” I interrupt him. “It doesn’t.”

He stands up, holding onto my arm. “Then why do you want to leave?”

“Because,” I choke out. “I can’t stand the idea of you walking away from me again, and let’s face it, we suck at being just friends.”

His fingers brush away a stray tear and I berate myself for allowing my emotions to get the better of me. Stupid period. Stupid boy.

“Hayley, you jumped to the wrong conclusion,” he says.

“Then what did you mean exactly?”

He steps closer, until our chests are touching, and brings his hands to my face. My eyelids flutter at the feel of his fingers gently brushing over my moist skin. “If you had let me finish, I would have told you that you make me want to try.”

“Try what?” I ask, confused.

“More.”

“More?” I repeat, sounding like a broken record.

“Yes, more,” he rests his forehead against mine. “I can’t promise that I’m any good at it, but for you, Hayley, I’m willing to give it all I’ve got.”