After I snuck out and learned there was no available Uber nearby, I realized I hadn't thought about this escape plan thoroughly in the first place. It was because of the lack of time to think; otherwise, I was a planner. We picked a church in the countryside, thinking it would be romantic and convenient since it was closer to the airport.

I sighed, looking down at my heels and my poor honeymoon suitcase. I was supposed to fly off to Bali with Marcus, not wallowing in pain for a ride. The closest ride was thirty minutes away, but I didn't have even seconds to waste.

My aunt must have been back at the scene, explaining the situation to Pops and the guests. It was about time that they would walk out of the chapel and see me: the runaway bride that was jilted at the altar. I had to find another way to run away since I didn't want to fail at another thing today.

A loud engine at the other end of the parking lot caught my attention in the meantime. It was coming from a vintage red Mustang with white stripes. The engine barked like it was fighting for its life. Why would someone want to drive something that ancient? I watched the exhaust gas going off the car for a while, contemplating my next move.

No matter how old it is, it can get you out of here.

The only available option in this freaking mess was an old Mustang, so I needed to convince the driver to drop me somewhere centric. Could the driver be somebody I knew? I supposed not since they would be in the chapel with others instead of waiting outside.

With that confidence, I dragged my suitcase along toward the car. I lifted my skirt with one hand and paid extra attention to the cobblestones not to trip. The humid air made my face sweat, but I needed to focus on my mission to make it out of here in dignity.

As I always did, I reminded myself that today would pass, and it would hurt less.

I dropped the suitcase when I reached the car and walked to the passenger door. The windows were blackout filmed, so I couldn't make out the car's interior or driver. I bent down a little as I knocked softly on the window, hoping the driver would roll down the freaking window.

I plastered a polite grin as the window went down in slow motion. But I didn't calculate that I'd come face to face with a young man dangerously close to my face, leaning forward to roll the window down manually. Right, the car is that ancient.

His green eyes opened wide in horror or surprise as they met mine. Once he rolled down the window completely, he slumped back to his seat in a swift motion and cleared his throat. I rested my arms on the edge of the window and kept a grin on my face. He looked less surprised and confused when he settled back in his seat.

"Hey," I greeted him.

The Mustang owner frowned, and I wondered what made him so confused and bothered about me until it hit me that I was in my wedding dress and he was parked in front of an old chapel, so I looked like a runaway bride — which was partially true. I was running away but not in a cool I-can't-marry-you way. I wasn't even sure if you were considered a bride after you had been dumped at the altar.

"Can you give me a ride? I need to go to the airport, and I can't find an Uber here." I didn't have time to beat around the bush or care whether I sounded rude. When he stared at me instead of giving me an answer, with a frown sitting between his eyebrows, I tried: "I can pay for the gas."

That earned a huff of laughter from him for a fucking reason I didn't even get. What was so funny about this situation? As rage pent up in me, he finally spoke.

"Wow." Wow? Did he just say wow? "If someone told me Amber Gardner would beg me, I'd tell them they were nuts."

He knew who I was but didn't ring a bell for me. I wouldn't forget a man like him: handsome face, green eyes, and a smile that reached right into your soul. However, I held his gaze as that damned smile widened as if he was challenging me to remember.

I squeezed my eyes after replaying his voice in my head. Wait. Finding a match for this voice was like running a find function for a million lines of code. Yet my brain returned a result: Cameron Wright, my childhood nemesis.

My eyes flickered back to him with realization, and he knew I remembered there. He straightened his back now, raising his eyebrow at me. No wonder I hated him at first glance—but how did chubby Cam grow into this dashing man? Did he possess somebody else's body? Yet his eyes were shining with the same mischief when I looked closely.

"Cameron?" I said in surprise.

"You're still slow, Amberoni."

Cameron just reminded me why I hated him. However, gone was Amber, who took things lightly and let him be. He brought this punishment upon himself by calling me a nickname I hated passionately.

I pulled the passenger door open and called shotgun with a grin. It was a sick pleasure to watch his face falter because of my sudden move. "And you're still annoying as hell, Cammybear."

"You didn't change one bit."

"And you're the living proof of the saying don't judge a book by its cover."

That put a smirk on his face as he turned to me and leaned his back against the door. "So, you like the cover now."

I casually ran my eyes over him. "You look more...." It was still a shock how he looked so out of a magazine, but I didn't let it cloud my judgment. "Decent."

"Decent," he repeated with a laugh. "We both know that's a compliment in your book."

He hit my nerves like ivories, managing to play the correct note each time. I slumped in my seat and shot him a look. "I was just going to ask you to take me somewhere nearby, but no, you're taking me to the airport now."

Cameron shook his head as his head tilted back with a laugh. It was annoying how he looked so attractive doing that, smiling, or just staring. No, you are just mad at Marcus and want to take revenge on him with the first man you lay eyes on. But that man couldn't be Cameron. I wanted to strangle the hell out of him.

"No chance," he replied calmly, leaning back. "I'm mom's ride back home."

"Pops can take her home." I turned to my right to locate the seat belt and put it on. "You're taking me to the airport." I fixed my eyes on him with my best threatening look, but that didn't seem to shake him up at all.

"Where's your husband, anyway? This car has only two seats."

Here, this was Cameron Wright. He always knew where to poke you. I only realized my eyes watered when the smug grin was wiped off from his face and his expression changed, I daresay, softened as if he had a fucking heart beating somewhere in that hard chest.

I looked down at my finger and the diamond ring winking back at me on my fourth finger. Fuck you, Marcus. I couldn't bear to look at it anymore because of the memories, so I took it off my finger after the third attempt and threw it out of the window.

"What the actual heck?" Cameron said next to me, storming out of the car suddenly. It took me a while to understand that he was looking for the ring. He walked in the direction I threw it toward and bent forward to examine. "It's a diamond ring. You can sell it for a handsome price."

"I don't want it." I watched him impatiently as he kept looking for my diamond ring. I drummed my hand against the side of the car. "What the hell are you doing, Cameron? Come back and take me to the airport."

Instead of answering me, Cameron halted and bent down to pick something up from the dusty ground. He found my diamond ring. He blew the dust off it, rubbed it in his hands, and returned to hand it to me with a sheepish grin. "See? Bright as a new pin."

I matched his grin, not because he found my ring but because I found his weakness. "Take me to the airport, and it's yours."

He froze in his place and narrowed his eyes. "Really?" I nodded. "Do you have any idea how valuable this is?"

"Yes."

"Is it fake?" He asked suspiciously. I was flattered by the trust he had in me. "I can't find any solid explanation for why you're willing to give me a fucking diamond ring for a ride."

"It's real, Cameron, but I want to eliminate it and its bad energy. So, I'm gonna give it to you if you do what I want."

His face brightened like the sun. So, Cameron Wright was desperate for money. I grabbed him by his balls.

As he went to log my suitcase into his trunk, I rolled my window up in victory.

When he returned to the driver's seat, he shot a broad smile and started the engine. I didn't know why, but his smile had a contagious effect on me. I looked out of the window as a soft grin touched my lips.

The engine roared, and we pulled out of the parking lot. I turned back, watching the church getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from my sight. You can start from scratch, Amber.

Then, Livin' On A Prayer blasted from the radio, and I shut my eyes.

I love writing about these two, and we've just begun. In my writing experience, characters take off the story after some point, behaving completely out of my plan, BUT it never happened right from the beginning until Land's End. They seem to fight with me just like they fight each other... so we'll see how it goes.

What do you think of Cameron? His relationship with Amber? Their nicknames? (I personally find them very funny.)

Drop an emoji here if you're excited about what's coming next!

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