“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.”
“Oh, I bet you bonded, all right.”
“You didn’t play any sports back in high school, right?” Tucker asked, drowning out the sound of the radio again, not that I minded so much at this point.
I checked my side mirror to make sure no one was walking up behind us, tapping the top of the steering wheel as I rested my hand on it. “Nah. We couldn’t afford it.”
My parents never had extra money, so instead of playing sports like the rest of my friends, I had to get a job to help out as soon as I was old enough. I pretended that it didn’t bother me and that I didn’t care, but I did. I sometimes wished for a more carefree life, but it wasn’t in the cards for me. This was the shitty hand I was dealt. I could either fucking cry about it, or make the best of it.
“I can’t imagine that. Not playing. Being on the football and the baseball team are some of my best memories.” Tucker practically sighed as he gazed out the window, apparently lost in his glory days.
I rolled my eyes and let out a little snort. “If those are your best memories, I’m glad I didn’t play.”
Tucker glanced at me, his brown eyes narrowing as he frowned and took a sip from his stupid giant coffee mug. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m just saying that if your best memories came from a time when you were like fifteen and sixteen years old, that’s pathetic, man. Your best memories should happen after high school.”
“Says the guy who can’t get over his high-school crush. Your argument is null and void.”
He had a point, and I grimaced. “Shut up.”
Tucker let out a belly laugh and it echoed in the car, blocking out all other sounds.
“Seriously, Tucker, shut the fuck up. I want to hear this.” I glared across the seat at my partner, who wore a shit-eating grin on his face.
“What’s he doing now?”
“I don’t know what he’s doing now. I don’t even know if he’ll be there or not.”
“You didn’t keep in touch over the years?”
“Nope.”
“Maybe she’s not even talking about you?”