Page 57 of The Best Bad Decision

“Yes!” I cry, slamming the iron down on the heatproof plate with a loud clang and throwing my hands in the air. “Nothing can happen between us. He’s nearly ten years older than me.” I count off myarguments on my fingers as Katy scoffs. “He lives thousands of miles away. Even when he moves—”

“Could youbeany more dramatic? He’s only eight years older. And wait a sec—he’s moving?” Katy is suddenly interested in my argument again.

“He’s transferring to Boston. He’ll be a bit closer but it’s still thousands of miles away. He’s Maisy’s dad, Katy. We’re co-parents. Friends, I think. I don’t know.”

“Friends don’t share mutual masturbation sessions on FaceTime.” Katy gives me a pointed look.

“Katy.” I warn, and then sigh. “I don’t know what we are.”

“But you want him.” The brow arches again as Katy slurps her coffee loudly and dramatically. Her brown eyes have softened some, but she’s still intent on opposing each one of my arguments.

“Yes. But that means nothing.” I run the hot iron over the sleeves of another dress before moving on to the bodice.

“Amie, girl, you’re my best friend. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister. I love you so fucking much it’s unreal. I’m going to say thisone time—”

“Don’t, Katy.” I warn again. I can hear my mum-voice coming out. She ignores me.

“You want him. He clearly wants you. You said yourself you were drawn to him in Singapore, and I’ve seen you since you bumped into him again. You’re still hooked on him. He’s still floating your boat. And just from the way he looked at you when I met him for all of two seconds in October, youdefinitelystill tickle his pickle. Why not go for it, Amie? Why not let yourself be happy?”

I set the iron down.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “What if it doesn’t work? What if it’s all a mess? What if he leaves? What then? What if he doesn’t love me?”

“Amie…” Katy stands from the table, rounding the furniture and dragging me into her arms. “What if hedoes?”

I spend the next twenty-four hours thinking about Katy’s words. About how she’s right—Cam and I are drawn to one another. We always have been. From that night in Singapore, when the universe put us in that bar, to the way it bound us together for eternity with Maisy. I can’t stop thinking about what Katy said. What if he does love me?

But what if—like every other man I’ve ever known—he doesn’t?

“Goodnight, Maisy Girl. Have big dreams, sweetheart.” The rich timbre of his voice has me clenching my thighs against my best efforts. Against all the words I’ve rehearsed in my head, despite Katy’s pep talk. All the reasons why hecan’thave me salivating and ruining my underwear with just one look at that perfect fucking face are slamming into my chest with each quickened heartbeat. I carry my phone to the kitchen, as usual, and busy myself making a cup of chamomile tea with grand plans of cutting our chat short and curling up in bed. I glance at the screen to see Cam’s lips forming the shape of my name, and I interrupt before he can speak.

“What happened—what we did—it can’t. It can’t happen again.”

His face falls.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “Why?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Give me one good reason why.”

“You know why.”

“Do I, Amie? Because from where I’m sitting, it looked like you wanted me as much as I wanted you. If I’m not mistaken, you were pretty fucking into it.” His voice raises in volume towards the end of his sentence, and I set my phone further away from me as I pour boiling water into my mug. I wish I’d chosen a margarita instead. Or maybe just tequila, straight from the fucking bottle. Screw the lime and salt.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “We can’t. It doesn’t matter how much I want you—”

“But youdo.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter, Cam. I can’t.Wecan’t. We live on opposite sides of the world and we’re never still. Where’s the stability for Maisy? When do we even get to see each other, huh? And you have a whole fucking life in Phoenix. Maybe four years ago I was the girl of the day, but you’ve had four years to build a life with your new flavour since then. Maisy and I—she needs you. But I can’t. I don’t.”

I lean into the counter, palms gripping the edge. Tears are streaming from my eyes, my chest clenching as I spew lie after lie, excuse after excuse, all of which feel like a goodbye.

“Is that really what you think of me, Amie?” His eyes flash. “Did you hear me at all when I said there’s no one else? It’s only been you, Amie, it’s only ever been you. You fuckingruinedme.” He swallows hard, his throat bobs once, twice, three times as his lips tremble, barely-restrained emotion threatening to breach the surface.

“We can’t,” I whisper again.

“Try again, pretty girl.” His voice rumbles from his chest, low and barely audible. “Give me one fucking reason why we can’t give in to this.”

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