Instead, we just chat back and forth about school and work. About Thanksgiving. He asked if I’m coming home, and I don’t give a definitive answer. But I think we both know I won’t. Or we both assume I won’t. He knows how much I hated it there, but now I’m starting to think maybe it wasn’t so damn bad.

I can’t go back there.

I don’t think.

Shit. I miss him so damn much. Maybe I can.

42. Kingston

FORTY-TWO

KINGSTON

He’s not here.

It’s Thanksgiving. His sister, his mom, and even Phillip are all here at my mom’s dinner table, but not Camden.

And I knew he wouldn’t be. I knew he didn’t want to come back to Kensley. He’s living the big college life and loving it, but it still hurts like crazy, seeing the empty chair my mom made sure was there for him, just in case.

Then we all eat, and he’s not here. When they’re serving up pie that we’re all too full for, that’s when the doorbell rings.

I try not to get too excited but jump to my feet and haul ass toward the front door, pulling it open before I even look through the window to see who it is.

Camden’s outside the door, dressed in jeans and tennis shoes, bundled up in a coat with a stocking cap on his head. His smile is bright as I pull him into a big hug, not caring that it’s snowing outside and cold as fuck.

“You made it.”

He chuckles, his body still pressed against mine as I hold him tight. “Yeah. I’m sorry I’m late. It’s a really long fucking drive.”

I smile, my breath puffing out white in the cold air as I pull back enough to look at him. “Yeah, it is.”

He doesn’t pull away from me, standing on the stoop with the door open. “Shit. You don’t have a date in there, do you? I thought about that when I was like, two hours away. I mean, it’s cool if you do.”

Camden is rambling. That’s weird. “No.” I shake my head. “There’s no one I want to date. The only one I want to be with is . . .” I stop, his eyes showing confusion, but I decide to just go for it, “you.”

“Me?” He looks shocked. “What do you mean?”

“You said you were in love with me once,” I say, vulnerability swarming me, but I don’t care. God, I missed him. I hate the thought of him dating someone else. Of anyone else kissing him and touching him. Sharing a bed with him.

I’m a small-town guy, and I can’t give him much, but I can give him me. I’ll be good to him. I know that much.