I OPENED MY EYES TO AN ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE.

In the armchair, with a terribly stiff back, and alone in the room.  This was a well-thought plan of Cam, giving me my own poison. So, I was sure he didn't have a nightmare last night.

I pushed the blanket off and forced myself up. A painful groan left my lips involuntarily, and I stared at the beautiful bed for a moment. You're mine tonight and every night from now on. No source of power in this world could stop me from sleeping in my bed tonight.

Instead of wallowing in my misery, I decided to change into my swimwear and head to swim. I turned my phone on, skimmed through new messages, emails, and notifications then turned it off again. I grabbed my laptop instead. I could work at Tuesday's coffee shop post-swim.

Today was warmer than yesterday. I walked to the same spot on the beach but didn't expect to find Cam sitting on the sand and taking photos of the ocean. I already had to see him all night, why couldn't he just hang around in the town and leave the beach to me? I still found myself walking toward him instead of picking another spot.

"Morning," I said as I lay my towel near him. I knew my presence would drive him crazy, too. "Did you have a nice sleep?" I asked, setting my bag on the sand and pulling out my stuff.

"The best," he answered, totally focused on taking pictures. The camera covered almost all of his face, yet I could make out his smug grin under it, enjoying my suffering. He was wearing his swim shorts and an unbuttoned blue shirt.

I suddenly remembered how he left me on a cliffhanger last night, and that was my cue to stop checking him out and get back to business.

"Good," I said curtly. "It's your last."

That earned a puffy laugh from him. "I don't let go of things I love, Amberoni."

"Me neither."

"Doesn't look like it to me." Cam glanced at me after he lowered the camera and swiped through the photos he'd taken.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged.

What was with this guy and never giving me proper answers? Calm down, Amber, my inner voice said. He wanted me to beg him for answers. I shook my head and pulled my summer dress over my head.

"Suit yourself, photographer."

Then, I ran into the ocean.

After swimming further until the beach was far enough, I let the water carry me, hoping it would also help my back pain. I listened to my breaths and the calming sound of the ocean against my ears underwater, opened my arms to my sides, and closed my eyes.

I don't let go of the things I love. Why did he think I did?

My brain ran over the possibilities, blocking out everything else in the present. I could never relate to the sayings about staying in the moment, carpe diem because my mind loved playing ping-pong between the past and the future. Never the present. I'd also tried the Youtube meditation tutorials, but I guess I was a hopeless case.

In the meantime, I actually found out why Cam would think I was letting go of things I loved. He basically saw me run away from my wedding. I ran away from Pops. He thought I wasn't there for my family.

I wasn't ready to tell him the full story. Also, I promised to tell Tuesday first.

He was gone when I returned to the shore, and his place was replaced by my new bestie. I noticed she didn't wear a swimsuit again. Why did she come here every morning if she didn't like swimming?

"Morning," I said with a smile. I toweled off my body and laid it back to sit.

"Hey, bestie. I finally met your handsome friend."

I rolled my eyes. "So?"

She squealed. Oh, no.

"One thing, Tues," I said, "we hate him in this house."

Tues suddenly stopped grinning and cleared her throat. "Okay." Then, she bit her lip and leaned forward. "But he's hot and said good morning to me."

"Are these really your only criteria for men?"

"And he asked me to be his model."

"His model?"

"Yeah, he took a few photos of me. For his portfolio, he said. He even let me check the photos, and he's talented." I didn't need another person to gush me about Cam, but Tues didn't care about it. She used me as an info dump, telling me about their small conversation and asking me why we must have hated him.

"Because," I answered, lying on the towel and closing my eyes, "I've known him all my life, and he's pure evil once you get to know him."

I opened one eye when I heard Tues huff a breath. "Should we trust your judgment here, bestie?" Huh? "I mean, you know." She shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows.

"Maybe you should call him bestie instead."

Tues poked me with her leg. "Come on, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, he looked very fond of you." I knew she knew she got me there, but I didn't turn to her to keep my nonchalant look.

"He hates me," I huffed.

"Didn't look like it to me," she sang. "He said you are friends." Why don't I believe this? "And when I asked him why he didn't ask you to model him instead, he said he was shy to ask a gorgeous woman like you—"

"—Okay, if you didn't say the last thing, I might've actually believed it." A gorgeous woman like me? Cam must have been on his deathbed to compliment me.

"Okay, guilty. We didn't really talk about you, but if we did, I'm sure he'd say those things. I got those vibes from him, Amy." Something was definitely wrong with her vibe detectors. "You stay in the same room—do you sleep in the same bed?"

"No," I said immediately. "We, of course, sleep separately, and he leaves in a few days. So, please stop trying to matchmake me with Cammybear."

"Cammybear?" Her face broke into a naughty smile as she kicked my upper leg again. I should've thought twice before befriending a teenager. "Nickname phase."

"It's to mock each other," I replied. "Not to—" I shut my eyes again and took a deep breath. Why was I trying to explain to a teenager about my love life? I got up from the towel and shot Tues a look that surely didn't seem so pleasant. "If you're done digging into my love life, can we head to your café, miss?"

"You said love life, not me." Then, she winked at me. The audacity of this girl.

On our way to the coffee shop, we didn't speak another word, which was very uncharacteristic for Tues. That much I knew, even though we'd literally known each other for a day, but I could sense a glimpse of joy in her eyes. She thought she got me, but she was far from it.

Cam and I weren't her summer love story. If anything, we were a sitcom or a murder thriller, depending on the mood.

Her mother welcomed us with a relieved face as if she was waiting for us. "Tuesday," she breathed, taking off her apron and walking up to us. "We need to go downtown."

"Why?" Tuesday asked.

"The coffee beans I ordered arrived."

"Oh."

"But we need to close the cafe—"

"Amber," Tuesday cut her off. "She can look after it. Right, bestie?" Her hopeful eyes landed on me, and I knew I had no choice but to accept.

"I don't know much about coffee making," I replied.

"It's fine," Tuesday said, taking my stuff from my hands. She set them on a table and dragged me toward the counter. She went behind the counter first and showed me how to use the espresso machine in a very quick tutorial. "Easy peasy."

I parted my mouth to protest.

"It's not like it'll be buzzing with customers, Amber. I bet you won't have to touch this machine until we're back. Just a few hours." Tues held my gaze. "Please."

She was right. It was a small town. "Okay." I surrendered. "I can look after it for sure."

"Thank you, Amber. We'll be back as soon as possible," Tuesday's mother said with a grateful smile.

I watched them out of the coffee shop and sank down on a chair with a sigh. I could work on the new feature of our app until a customer showed up.

Half an hour later, deep in deciding which button to link the feature, the tiny bell above the door chimed.

"Hi, Amberoni."

I shut my eyes in frustration. The sound of Cam's steps echoed against the wooden floor as he sauntered in the shop. His eyes wandered around the place as if he was taking their photos in his memory. At last, he stood by the counter.

"Are you alone?" His eyes found mine in confusion.

I got up from my seat, brushed past him, and went behind the counter. His eyebrows lifted with a glint of amusement when I wore the apron.

"Yeah, it's just me," I said cheerfully. "What would you like to drink?"

"Wow, you never fail to amaze me." He skimmed through the menu on the wall behind me with a light laugh.

I held my back in pain as Cam bent forward and rested his arms on the counter casually. I noticed he had changed his outfit from earlier, and his cologne brushed me like a breeze. We were indeed in an alternative universe.

My life turned upside down. From the plans of an epic honeymoon to Bali with Marcus to an annoying vacation in Land's End with Cameron. Marcus made me wince more than Cam, so I didn't know where I stood now. I didn't hate Cam as much as I'd like to — but I'd lean on the annoyance rather than the fuzzy feeling in my heart.

"How's your back?" Cam asked suddenly as if he could read my mind.

Stiff as a board. "I'm fine."

A sympathetic grin touched his lips as he reached to take a cookie from the tray. Instinctively, I swatted his hand away. "Ouch, is this how you treat your customers?"

"Only you."

He stuck his hand to me. "If you want to hold my hand, just say it, Amberoni. You don't have to make excuses to touch it."

I held his hand and squeezed it as firmly as I could. Yet Cam didn't even flinch. He held my gaze in amusement and watched me try to make him wince. Then, he suddenly interlaced our fingers.

I attempted to pull my hand back, but he anchored our palms together and looked past me at the wall menu again.

"What do you suggest, Ms. Barista?"

I glared at him, knowing he was doing this to get to me, but his eyes kept a clueless look. I turned around and viewed the menu, too. I could only half-turn since my hand was in his, but if he wanted to play this game, we could.

The only problem was the warmth of his hand and the tingling of our touch. You hold hands with anyone, Amber, I reminded myself. I shook hands and held hands, yet none of them felt this intimate. I took a deep breath and refocused on the menu.

Evaluated what I could do with my limited knowledge. Caramel Macchiato? Tough. Latte? Boiling milk looked tricky. Americano. Americano—the safest bet.

"Americano," I said, turning back with a wide grin. "I can make you Americano."

"No," he said with a pout. "What about caramel macchiato? I have a sweet tooth."

You're getting Americano. However, he didn't need to know it. "Size?" I kept a professional tone.

"Venti."

I grabbed a venti-sized cup. When he didn't let go of my hand, I said, "Can I have my hand back, or are you the one making excuses now?" My question got him off-guard, but he released it without a word.

I took the Sharpie, scrambled Cammybear on the cup, and asked him his milk preference.

"Almond."

I pretended to take notes on the cup. I selected his order on the computer and asked him to pay by credit card. Then, I went up to the espresso machine to prepare his extra hot venti Americano.

A few post-its on the machine described how to make each coffee order. I figured Tuesday's mom noted these down. How cute. I brewed coffee as Tuesday described and poured boiled water on top of it.

I put his cup on the left counter and handed him a sleeve. Cam looked pleased as he put the sleeve on and sipped on his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine in the process. Thus, when his mouth burned, I watched his eyes go from delighted to pained—in absolute terror.

"Shit," he whispered, holding his mouth. "This—this is not—"

"—It's my famous extra hot Americano. Enjoy."

"You fucking burned my tongue."

"Apparently not hard enough. You can still speak back to me."

A vein popped on Cam's forehead. He shook his head with a hoarse laugh. We stared at each other for a moment: Cam like a bull that saw red and me like a matador ready for the next move.

To my surprise, he turned around and left the coffee shop without a word, taking his hot coffee along. Something in the air was telling me this wasn't over.

Do you like sneak peeks? I thought of two options: a) I can do it optional (you pick a character, and I PM you a line), or I can add it after the author notes on Sundays. Which one would you prefer?

Drop an emoji here if your heart fluttered when they held hands.

Also, thank you so much for reading this story! You'd make me the happiest if you clicked on the star button, so I know you're following up with me. Thank you!

See you next Friday,

Sev

💓

NEXT CHAPTER'S SNEAK PEEK

His hand curled around mine, holding the cup and my hand. His gesture took me back to this morning when he pressed our hands together. 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—