Cam glanced over his shoulder at me. “With friends, yes, and we’re friends, aren’t we, Avery?”

My mouth opened. Were we friends? I guessed so, but still. Was this normal? Or was Cam just that confident? He did things like this, because he knew he could, that no one would really make him leave. Most people probably wouldn’t want him to leave. And I could’ve made him get the hell out if I’d really wanted to and that was the truth. Cam was the kind of guy who was probably used to getting what he wanted.

Just like Blaine.

That thought turned the eggs in my stomach and I placed my fork down. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Finally!” he shouted, making me jump a little. “You’ve finally admitted that we’ve friends. It’s only taken a week.”

“We’ve only known each other for a week.”

“Still took a week,” he replied, poking at the eggs in the water.

I pushed the last remaining chunk of eggs around my plate. “What? Does it normally take you just an hour to have someone declaring best friends forever?”

“No.” He pulled out the eggs, dropping them in a bowl. Coming to the table, he sat again. His eyes met mine, and it was hard to maintain that stare. Those eyes really were a beautiful shade of azure, sharp and clear. The kind of eyes you could easily get lost staring into. “It usually takes me about five minutes before we’ve moved onto best friend status.”

A smile snuck out as I shook my head. “Then I guess I’m just the odd one.”

“Maybe.” His lashes lowered as he started peeling his boiled egg.

I took a drink. “I guess it’s different for you.”

“Hmm?”

“I bet you have girls hanging all over you. Dozens would probably kill to be in my spot and here I am, allergic to your bread.”

He looked up. “Why? Because of my near godlike perfection?”

A laugh burst from me. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Cam chuckled and then shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t really think about it.”

“You don’t think about it at all?”

“Nope.” He popped a whole, freaking egg into his mouth. Besides that, he had impeccable table manners. Chewing with his mouth closed, wiping his hands on the napkin he’d pulled from the holder, and not talking with his mouth full. “I only think about it when it matters.”

Our gazes collided, and my cheeks flushed. I ran my finger along the rim of my glass. “So you’re a reformed player?”

He paused, egg halfway to his mouth. “What makes you think that?”

“I heard you were quite the player in high school.”

“Really? Who did you hear that from?”

“None of your business.”

A brow arched. “With that mouth of yours, you don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”

I flinched, because that was a spot-on observation. “No,” I heard myself saying. “I wasn’t really popular in high school.”

Cam dropped his egg on the plate and sat back. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was an asshole thing for me to say.”