Never Say Never by Rachael Sommers (books to get back into reading TXT) 📕

Damn Jenny Hall to hell, Camila thought as she finally sat up in bed, her head pounding. When she saw the Advil and a glass of water on her bedside table, she breathed a quiet prayer, gulping down two of the pills.

Drunken Camila didn’t usually plan for the after-effects, and she thought back to the night before—and then ice slipped down her spine when she realized the difference was that Emily had been there last night.

And no matter how hard she tried, Camila couldn’t remember what they had talked about.

In fact, she couldn’t remember much after her fifth drink, barely remembered getting home, and it made her uneasy because God only knew what had slipped out.

She didn’t even remember what she and Jenny talked about, whether the other woman had managed to weasel out Camila’s feelings for Emily in the end, if she admitted something, and afterward, what she had said to Emily, the two of them alone for the first time since everything had fallen apart.

She groaned, but there was nothing she could do about it now. The damage was done, and all she could hope was that Emily would not bring it up again.

Which wasn’t unreasonable because Emily barely even looked her in the eye anymore, let alone talked to her, and Camila shouldn’t mind, considering she was the one who pushed her away, but…she did mind. There was an unbearable ache in her chest whenever she thought about her.

It was unlike her to feel that way, to feel what she did whenever she looked at Emily, whenever she thought about her, but the emptiness strengthened her resolve rather than weakened it—because if this was how she felt now when nothing much had happened, she couldn’t imagine how it would feel if they did get together and it all went down in flames.

Camila dragged herself out of bed and into a hot shower, the water almost scalding, but it eased her headache, and when she emerged a few minutes later in a cloud of steam, she felt more human.

Jaime was still asleep when she checked on him, and she went to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Her phone rang, and she frowned—if it was anything to do with work, she was going to throw the damn thing out the window.

But it was Jenny’s name on the screen (well, Jenny was actually programmed as “she-devil”), and Camila pressed the phone to her ear.

“I’m never drinking with you again,” Camila told her, because it really was the worst hangover she had had in a long, long time—they had overdone it, mixing and matching various spirits in a multitude of cocktails.

“Oh, I assure you, the feeling is mutual. I don’t know how we’re still alive.”

“I don’t feel very alive,” Camila murmured, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Is there a reason you’re calling?” Jenny didn’t usually make social calls, especially if they had only seen one another the night before.

“Just…checking in.”

Camila was ninety-nine percent certain she was lying.

“You don’t call to ‘just check in,’” Camila pointed out. “What did I say to you last night?”

“You said a lot of things to me last night.”

Camila tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Jenny to say more, hoping that she hadn’t dug herself into a hole that the other woman would exploit for more information.

“Is there a point to this call, Jenny?” Camila was ready to end the conversation, but if she hung up, she knew Jenny would call and call and call, and if she didn’t answer, she might just appear at Camila’s door unannounced.

“I just… You seemed sad last night. I don’t know if it has anything to do with that pretty woman waiting in your apartment, but for what it’s worth, you deserve to be happy. You shouldn’t give up on love just because you’ve been burned in the past.”

“I don’t know what impression I gave you last night, but—”

“Oh, don’t bullshit me, Camila. I know you. I saw the way you looked at her and the way you reacted when I teased you about her. There’s something there.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Just think about it.”

Before Camila could tell her to fuck off, Jenny spoke again.

“Oh, and happy Thanksgiving! Bye, Cam.”

Camila stared at the phone in her hand for a long time, as though that was the reason her mind was spinning. She thought about Jenny’s words as she drank her coffee, wondering why Jenny was pushing. Camila couldn’t have appeared that affected last night—could she? Was she already in so deep that Jenny knew from the few minutes she had seen them together?

Camila probably was. Emily was always on her mind, now more than ever, even though they barely interacted anymore. It was maddening, but that didn’t mean things had changed.

No, nothing had changed, and despite Jenny’s admonition, Camila didn’t quite believe she deserved to be happy, but she did know that Emily did, and Camila was convinced that Emily would be much happier without her.

She drained the last of her coffee, then padded down the hall to wake Jaime. His infectious energy was just what she needed to keep her heart from craving what she so desperately wanted but could never have.

* * *

Emily spent Wednesday night at Cassie and Maia’s apartment because they were hosting Thanksgiving that year. Her foster mother was coming into town to spend the holiday with her daughters.

Emily hadn’t slept well—she was too preoccupied with Camila—and at eight o’clock, she decided it was time to get out of bed.

Maia and Cassie were in the kitchen, peeling vegetables at the counter, the turkey already in the oven.

“There’s coffee,” Maia said when she spotted Emily.

“Thanks.” She helped herself to her usual mug, feeling slightly more human when the caffeine started running through her veins. “Want me to help with anything?”

“You? Work in the kitchen?” Cassie replied, raising her eyebrows.

“Excuse you, I go to cooking classes now,” Emily reminded her.

“Yeah, and it’s a miracle you haven’t burned down your apartment yet.”

Emily flipped her off, and