“I’m not afraid of you,” she said out loud, lying through her teeth, of course. “But I’ll give you this. The sun shining on your pretty white caps is a nice touch.” Never one to do things half-assed, she made her feet take her to the end of the longest dock. Heart pounding, she stood there for a long moment watching the way the sun’s rays shimmered and danced across the water.

Then, very carefully, so as not to accidentally make a nightmare come true and fall into the water and drown, she sat. And then pulled out her journal and flipped through some of her entries. She had a list of books to read. Her sleep log. A school tracker filled with the classes she needed to take. Her calendar complete with stickers. Her bad-habit tracker . . . Damn. She really was a nut. She paged through to her secret secret bucket list and had to shake her head at herself. Maybe she hadn’t aimed high enough. She made another entry. Fear number two.

Fall in love.

She stared at the words, having to admit she should probably just go ahead and check that one off right now because it’d already happened. She’d just been too stubborn to realize it. She’d been afraid of commitment in the past because in her mind, committing to someone meant another person whose life would take precedence over hers.

But she wasn’t afraid of that with Cam. He’d never try to make her into something she wasn’t or put himself before her.

Life as she knew it would only get better.

“Why is this so hard?” she whispered angrily to herself, and pressed her forehead to her knees.

“It doesn’t have to be,” said an unbearably familiar voice from behind her.

Cam.

She squeezed her eyes shut. He’d found her. Of course he’d found her. Because unlike her, he was in control of himself and always did what needed to be done, hard or easy, big or small.

Damn, she admired that.

He came to a stop beside her, and she made the mistake of looking up at him. His hair was growing out a bit from his military cut and was a windblown mess of perfection. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and the scruff and dark sunglasses he favored only added to his bad-boy appeal.

“I’m an asshole?” he asked, reminding her of exactly where they’d left off.

She grimaced and opened her mouth, but he put a hand on her shoulder, gentle but firm.