10 Years Later

“Then let’s make new ones.” He reached for the radio, and I smacked his giant Neanderthal hands away. Tucker was a hulk of a man at six feet four inches tall. It was a wonder he was hired to go undercover; it wasn’t like the guy could hide very well. But he was good at his job, despite his size.

“Don’t touch my fucking radio. I drive, I pick the station. You can choose what we listen to when you drive.” I glared at him, pretending to be pissed, but enjoying the opportunity to give him a little shit.

“But I never drive!” he shouted, and I laughed because it was true. As long as we were partners on this case, I drove and we listened to this radio station. End of story. “And we’re not even driving now,” he added under his breath, sounding a bit like he was pouting.

“Cammie, Cammie get in here.”

The sound of her name flowing through the car speakers caused me to sit up taller in the driver’s seat. I instinctively reached for the volume button again and clicked it up two more notches.

“Ah, man. Here we go.” Tucker rolled his eyes like a little bitch, and I smacked his shoulder with the back of my hand.

“Shut up, or so help me God . . . ,” I threatened.

“Why don’t you just call her already? Let’s go down to the radio station and arrest her,” he said, and I couldn’t hear anything that Cammie was saying.

“I can’t just call her after ten years. Now, shut up so I can hear what she’s saying,” I growled.

“Yeah, I’m going. Of course,” she said, answering a question I could only assume had to do with our ten-year reunion this weekend.

“Hoping to see a special someone, Cammie?”

My stomach clenched as I waited for her answer, hoping that she might mention me. It was a foolish thing to hope; of course she wouldn’t say my name. But that didn’t stop me from wanting it.

“Oh, she’s blushing! Look at her cheeks!”

“Okay, Cammie, no one turns that shade of red if there isn’t a story to tell. Tell us! Who is he?”

“Am I red? I’m not red, am I?”

I could still picture her face and the way she would avoid eye contact when she got embarrassed or uncomfortable. A smile tried to find its way to my lips, but I shoved it back.

“I’m just excited to see everyone! I swear.”

“There isn’t one guy that you’re hoping will be there?”

“You didn’t have a crush on anyone back in high school?”

“Nope. I didn’t even really date in high school.”

I turned the radio back down. As much as I loved hearing Cammie’s voice after all these years, it killed me to know that she didn’t give a shit about me. Hearing her say it out loud for everyone to hear was a little soul crushing, even after all this time.

“Tough break, buddy,” Tucker said in his thick New York accent.

“I don’t know what I expected,” I admitted, feeling defeated.

“You figured that the chick you can’t get over might still be hung up on you too,” he said, his face smug.

“I guess.”

“You guess? Don’t play it cool with me. That’s exactly what you expected. You’ve been hung up on this broad for years. And you’d like her to be just as hung up on you,” he said with confidence, his assumptions not entirely wrong.

“Wait, what did that chick just say about the baseball team?” I turned the volume up on the radio dial, much to Tucker’s annoyance.

“So, Cammie. The baseball team?”

I held my breath as I waited for her to respond, the heat creeping into my cheeks. Still jealous after all this time—what an asshole I am.

“I hung out with the guys on the team because I played softball. All the girls did. It was like a sports bonding thing.”