I was in the middle of a furious coding session when the bell chimed again, and I thought Tuesday and her mom had come back early. However, many people entered the shop with curious looks, like they were in a freaking museum.

Then, I saw Cam talking to an elderly, and when our eyes met, I knew what was going on: payback. As a crowd lined the place, I got up with a sigh and took my place behind the counter.

I wasn't going to let Cameron win.

"Hi, Gerald," I welcomed my first customer. I stepped aside so he could view the menu, but he'd already decided about his order.

"Caramel..." He paused with a frown. "Caramel something." He turned back and asked Cam what the drink was called. Caramel macchiato — of course, he brought them all to order caramel fucking macchiato.

Cam joined us with a wide smile that boiled up my anger and put his hand on Gerald's shoulder. "Caramel macchiato," he said with delight.

"Size?" I asked Gerald.

"The smallest one, please," he replied hesitantly.

"Are you sure you want caramel macchiato, Gerald?" I asked, picking up a small cup. "I can make you something softer like a latte — just coffee with milk? Would you like that?"

Gerald looked between Cam and me like he was a kid caught between two parents. I wondered what Cam told him. Caramel macchiato was too much sugar for this old man. He seemed to give in to my idea at last. "I'd love that, Amber, thank you."

"Got it," I said, taking his payment and heading to prepare his drink.

After taking care of five customers, I'd actually gotten the hang of it. All I had to do was take orders and prepare the drinks with the help of Tues's cheat sheet — the tricky part was Cameron, standing by the counter with each customer like both their tour guide and advocate. He complained about the slow service, and the quality of coffee, though the customers themselves didn't seem to mind either of them.

Once I delivered the last order, I rested against the counter with a sigh. My back was already sore, but standing on my feet all day drained me even more. I ran my eyes through the café, watching the people laugh and talk at the tables, having no clue about the challenge between Cameron and me.

Though I pulled this off, I had to admit he won this round.

Then, I turned to my side and found Cam watching me—with a smile. It wasn't smug or triumphant. He looked happy and proud. His smile did funny things to my stomach, and I glared at him to suppress that warm sensation.

He reached the delivery side of the counter and said, "You're something else."

My mind searched for an insult in his words, but his voice was soft and friendly. I couldn't find a single red flag about it. I wasn't used to him—us—being civil. I expected him to insult me in a way so I could insult him back. Cam now looked the contrary: friendly, relaxed, and even sort of playful.

You're something else.

I took a breath and looked to my right, the dishes and the coffee machine to clean before Tuesday arrived. I should've been mad at Cam for pulling this game and killing me physically, but I felt happy and soft. My legs were aching so hard, but they didn't bother me too much.

"I honestly didn't think you could serve them all, you know," Cam suddenly said, his arms crossed and his back facing me. "And they look happy with their drinks—you didn't kill anyone yet, Amberoni. Kudos."

"Thanks for the confidence vote," I replied sarcastically. "You know I'm always up for a challenge."

"Oh, I do," he said with a chuckle. Then, he looked at me over his shoulder. "But admit it, you didn't see this coming."

"I didn't," I admitted, a smile forming on my lips involuntarily. "How did you convince them to come here, though?"

"I painted them a good dream, Amberoni. It's called marketing." He winked and turned back to watch the customers.

I suddenly felt sorry for burning his mouth in the first place. He was annoying, frustrating, and he brought out the challenging side of me, but I started this argument by burning his mouth in the first place. He was just playing with me, and I'd been brutal.

So, I went and made him a caramel macchiato before I cleaned the machine.

After removing my apron, I walked up next to him and extended his cup of caramel macchiato. Surprise flickered in his eyes as he looked at me.

"It's caramel macchiato," I said.

His eyes flickered between the cup and me as if he was waiting for an explanation. I wasn't going to apologize verbally, so this was the best apology he could get from me. I pressed the cup against his chest, urging him to take it.

His hand curled around mine, holding the cup and my hand. His gesture took me back to when he pressed our hands together this morning. Why did I feel like this whenever he touched me? There was nothing special about this. He was trying to take his cup from my hand, and if I—

He interrupted my small freak-out moment by bringing the cup to my mouth. I looked up at him in confusion, wondering what he was trying to do. "Taste it."

"Huh?"

A wave of amusement colored his eyes. "I have to ensure it's drinkable. Be my guinea pig."

I rolled my eyes but still went for it. I owed him that much after today's incident. His hand let go of mine when I raised the cup to my mouth, taking a sip from the warm liquid. It was nice, with a strong taste of caramel. Maybe I should've added the caramel flavor a bit less, but it didn't taste too sweet. Of course, it wasn't the best caramel macchiato I'd ever tasted, far from it, but it could make do.

"It's perfect."

I was about to change its lid when Cam grabbed the cup from me and sipped. "Not bad." Not bad, instead of thank you?

I opened my mouth to protest, but Tuesday's gasp stopped me midway. I shot Cam one last look to indicate that we would continue this later, and he winked at me, raising his cup.

Tuesday and her mother walked into the shop with full hands and welcomed every customer with wide smiles. When Tues's eyes cast on me, she mouthed a what with a smile. I walked up to her and took the boxes from her hands. "What the hell?" She whispered. "How did this happen?"

"Cameron," I mumbled back. Tuesday looked behind me, and I turned, watching Cam take the box from Tuesday's mother. Though this was similar to yesterday's situation at Uncle Joe's store, I couldn't stop smiling. "He convinced them to come to buy coffee."

"How nice of him," Tuesday chimed. Once her eyes met mine, I knew she was trying to figure out my feelings. She looked behind him and me. "We should thank him, right?" There was a silent hesitancy in her tone, though she was dying to thank Cameron.

"We should," I said seriously.

She ran to him without wasting a second, and I stood there for a while, eyeing them talk and laugh, Cam patting her shoulder. Then, he sipped on his caramel macchiato again, and his eyes found mine with a smile.

This thing between us, frenemy or whatever it was, was growing more complicated with each passing second. Cam wasn't my friend; yes, we grew up together, but we were more like acquaintances, the best friends kids forced to spend time together. We ignored each other in every other circumstance. I didn't like him one bit when we were kids, but it was admittedly fun to challenge him. In a way, Cameron Wright helped me become my best version. He pushed me to be academically successful.

There were some nights I was heartbroken because of a boy, but I still crammed for exams not to fall behind Cameron. For the rival fire between us, I even overcame the heartbreak or learned to ignore it for the moment.

But now we were grown-ups, and I didn't want to be fighting with him all the time. I wanted to call a truce, no matter how hard he made it. Put a stop to this war between us, and I could see that he wanted this, too.

Still, I looked down and went to the store room to drop the box instead of smiling back. Because a part of me was terrified to call a truce with Cameron.

I'd stayed longer with Tuesday before returning to my room. She asked me about the details of the day. Then, they invited me to dinner tomorrow at their house as a thank you, and I couldn't say no.

When I returned, Cam was already lying on the bed. I tossed my bag aside, went to the bathroom to shower, then returned to find him reading a book. He totally ignored me as I sank down on the other side of the bed and went under the duvet. If I slept on that damned armchair one more night, I could die from the pain.

I peeked at him to see what he was reading. Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking. Then, my eyes skimmed through the lines, and I found myself reading along until he shut the book and turned to me. I looked elsewhere, embarrassed to be caught in action, and crossed my arms.

"We're not taking turns," he said after setting his book on the night table.

"Just stick to your side of the bed." My response took him off guard, and I realized we were going to sleep in the same bed. "I can't go back to the armchair after last night." Without waiting for his answer, I turned off the lights and rolled to the edge of my side.

After a long night in the armchair, this was heaven, even if I was sharing it with Cameron. Besides, the bed was big enough that I didn't feel his presence at all.

Except when he moved and pulled the duvet along, taking it from me.

"Hey," I said, pulling it back. "Don't pull."

"Guess the duvet is short for the bed. I'm on my side, and it doesn't cover me fully."

Shit.

"Okay," Cameron said, shifting in the bed until he was in the middle. "As long as one of us is closer to the middle, it covers both of us." However, it also meant I'd bump into him if I accidentally turned around in my sleep.

I evaluated both risks and concluded that sleeping without the duvet was less of a problem than bumping into him. It was warm at night, so I didn't mind it. I threw the duvet off me and said, "Just take it and go to your side. I'm going to sleep without it."

"Wow, you hate me that much?"

I flushed in anger, wondering why he cared. "I don't hate you," I replied, turning back to face him. He was lying pretty close, his face merely inches from mine. I couldn't make out his features well, although we forgot to close the blinds, and the moonlight crept into the room. I bet he could see my face clearly, which didn't help my case, considering how flustered I should have looked. "It's my courtesy to give you the whole duvet."

His mint breath fanned over me when he sighed. "And I'm trying to find the middle ground."

I rolled on my back. You're too close, I thought, staring up at the ceiling. I put my hand over my tummy and felt my pulse throbbing against it. Cam was innocent in his actions, and I knew I looked like I was overreacting.

"I wasn't going to mention this, but you're just wearing an oversize tee, Amber," Cameron pointed out. I turned to him with a frown but then looked down and realized what he meant. My tee had already hiked up a little, and it was hard to control it in my sleep. Oh. "Of course, you're free to wear whatever you like, but I'd feel more comfortable if I didn't wake up to a surprise in the morning—"

"—I get it, stop," I said in embarrassment. I yanked the duvet from him and covered myself. "God, this is why I didn't want to sleep in the same bed in the first place. It's awkward as hell, and on top of it, it's with you."

"So, is it okay with anyone but me?"

"I didn't say that," I replied, looking at him. "But it's just worse with you."

Cam lifted his head a little and put his arm under it. My eyes momentarily tugged at his arm muscle, then I warned myself not to go there.

I refocused my eyes on his face, which I could see better from this angle.

"What is it, Amberoni?" Cam whispered, but his low, glottal voice reached beyond my ears, creating shivers through my body. His gaze trapped me within his, and I couldn't stray my eyes. "Do you feel uneasy around me?"

Yes.

"Are you developing a secret crush on me?"

No. Definitely no.

I mentally shook myself and gave him a huff. "Secret crush on you? Never. What makes you think you make me uneasy? I was going to say that it's a nightmare to be stuck here with you, and I can't wait for your beloved car to be fixed, so you can finally leave me alone."

However, my cheeks were red, and my words were rushed. Hope he didn't sense how uneasy he indeed made me feel.

Cam's laugh echoed against the walls of my heart. "What's so funny?" I asked, wondering if he actually saw through my bluff. That was a low possibility, but he knew me better than I'd like to admit.

"It's so easy to get you worked up." A wave of relief washed over me. His brown eyes flashed with moonlight when he rolled to my side again. "It's like even if I called you beautiful, you would be offended."

"It's because you wouldn't mean it."

Cameron paused for a beat of a moment. Then, his eyes captured mine.

"I would." He sighed softly. "I do."

His words sent another shiver through my spine. Not because he found me beautiful but also went beyond the hypothesis. I would and I do were vastly different. I reckoned our situation got to his head. The proximity between us was too close to zero, the moonlight set a romantic scene, and his scent—his scent wouldn't confuse him, but it did confuse me. I closed my eyes in dismissal. What am I thinking? Why am I thinking of his scent?

I fluttered my eyes open to find him still watching me. Running my hand on my t-shirt under the duvet, I pulled its hem down as low as possible. Our proximity made me conscious of everything that was going on around me: the distant sound of crashing waves, the dripping water of the tap, the sweat on my neck, my heartbeat, the hotness of his breath, the shadow of his long lashes on his cheeks, his chocolate-colored irises, the tiny mole under his right eyebrow, his cheekbones, his crooked lips—I licked my own lips on instinct, and his eyes strayed to my lips.

His look deafened every sound in the room, making my heart pump blood to my lips. I pressed my lips together, holding my breath, but I also wanted to release a long, exasperated exhale to sum up my feelings.

Why do I want to kiss him? Why does he look at my lips like he wants to kiss me?

As Cam lifted his gaze back to my eyes, it was impossible to read his thoughts. He held my gaze as if realization hit him, his eyes flickering all over my face, and he shut his eyes. "Good night," he whispered and rolled back to his corner of the bed.

I didn't waste time spinning my back to him and releasing the breath I was holding. I tried to wrap my head around what the hell just happened. Why did we almost cross the line and stand on the verge of kissing? And why did he suddenly move away like lightning struck him?

I love writing this story more and more as we go, and you're playing a huge factor in it. Thank you!

What do you think of Cammybear's comeback? He didn't go easy on her. AND they finally share a bed!!! (living up to the promised one-bed trope).

This line is a safe space for you to pour your emotions in all forms (especially after the last scene).

The next chapter will be posted at the same time as Midnights' release (next Friday at midnight EST).

Sev xx

CHAPTER ELEVEN SNEAK PEEK:

"Exactly, bestie. You know what? Cameron is a ten."

"Ten?"

Tues nodded with a beam. "I mean, look at him."

I whizzed back, following her gaze until I spotted Cam on the beach.

He was on the other side of the beach. He took his shirt off and started walking toward the ocean. Then, I remembered last night and—

"He's a ten, but he's driving me crazy," I muttered under my breath.