There's something nostalgically comforting about sitting in the corner booth at Mel's Diner. I don't know if it's the same set of scratches carved into the edge of the table or the red bench that still wobbles when I lean too far forward, but it always manages to bring back the same warm feeling it did the first time Mom took me here for milkshakes and apple pie.

After I changed out of last night's homecoming dress, we all hopped in Cam's car and headed here for a much needed breakfast. It's been a morning to say the least. From waking up half clothed in Cam's arms to sitting across from my brother as he scans the menu, I'd say my life has become one giant roller coaster and I'm sitting at the top of the first drop.

The click of the jukebox rattles behind me, and a gentle change in pace to the rock 'n' roll hype fills the walls.

In the still of the night...

And just like that, the slow and steady tune rests along my chest, causing a memory to spin in front of me. I never know when a moment will hit, when a wave of emotion will flood the shore. There's never a warning or signal. Just a rush. A sudden influx of everything heavy.

Promise I'll never...let you go...

I spiral. My mind locked in a tailspin. Mom's peaceful voice fills my eardrums, the memory playing vividly with every note that echoes from the jukebox. I wasn't supposed to still be awake that night, I wasn't supposed to be watching, but I remember it all so clear.

Mom's blue satin robe swayed from side to side as my dad held her close, dancing in the middle of the living room, only the subtle light of the moon and stars shed an angelic glow around them. Mom's soft, graceful tone sang every word as the quiet scroll of the record player sounded beside them.

Hold me again...with all of your might...in the still of the night...

I can still see her. The dark circles below her eyes, the deepened paths carved beneath her cheekbones in those last few weeks.

But that moment she danced with my dad in the center of our living room—a moment meant for just them—still beats across my chest, resting beside the ache that vibrates my ribcage whenever her memories fill my system.

Swallowing the subtle burn of dry tears, I let my eyes drift to the two boys across from me. The warmth of Cam's knee meets mine beneath the table, the hazel tint of his eyes set on me. There's a glint of compassion behind them, and within that one thoughtful look, I know if he could, he'd wrap his arms around me. Because in that one look, he sees straight through to my tormented memories.

But there's something else that lies beside my past now. Something brighter and full of hope.

Cam reaches for his menu, subtly resting his pointer finger along my hand as he holds it stretched out along the table. That simple touch reminds me that the ache isn't so toxic anymore. That feeling means I'm working toward something along the lines of healing. Healing beside a boy who cradles my heart with everything glittery.

"Man, I've missed this place," my brother announces, oblivious to the memories that still lie here for me, and to the way my cheeks are beginning to blossom with heat from Cam's subtle touch.

"This place has missed you," Cam replies as his leg slides further along my own.

I fight back the smile that aches to ignite as I wrap my foot around Cam's ankle. He looks up from his menu, the same battle etched across his lips as he bites back a smile.

I love my brother. I do. And I have missed having his company at home. But a selfish part of me wishes he wasn't here at this exact moment. That I could continue to revel in all the warm and fuzzies after last night.

"I'm going to start with that plate of French toast," Jare declares, completely unaware of the footsie games taking place below the table, or the fact I'm pretty sure my cheeks are on fire. "Then I'm ordering the omelet, and a side of extra bacon. Oh, and hashbrowns."

"Do they deprive you of food in college?" I ask.

"Of course not," he scoffs. "But they definitely don't serve breakfast anywhere near the level of this place. I want it all before I head back."

"And when is that?" I ask, far too dryly. It has me jumping back in with, "I mean, how long do I get to spend time with you?"

As much as I am thoroughly enjoying Cam's touch and aching for more, I sincerely mean that. I do want to spend time with my brother. And I'm happy he's here. His timing is just one of inconvenience, seeing as I just gave up my V-card to the boy sitting beside him, and I'd love nothing more than to spend the day wrapped in Cam's arms.

"I have to head back tomorrow. I have an early class on Monday. But I was thinking we celebrate your birthday tonight? Me, you, Camden, Dad? You can invite Brittney too. And technically you can invite he who shall not be named. I'll even be nice to him. Consider it my gift to you, well, one of them anyway."

Shit. My eyes fly to Cam's, the utter flash of guilt and fear laced across both of our faces. Thankfully, my brother is still buried behind his menu as if he didn't just declare a meal made for a king.

"Oh," I manage to choke out, trying my best to fill the awkward space placed across the table. "Uhm...yeah. Actually, Adam and I broke up."

"What?" His eyes fly over to Cam's, searching for an answer before connecting back with mine. "When?"

"A few weeks ago," I admit, though I fib the amount of time to lighten the blow. I fight to swallow the giant lump lodged in my throat. "We just weren't on the same page anymore." The lie burns, and the fact Cam's foot no longer traces mine tells me he's feeling that same weight.

"And neither of you wanted to tell me this?" Jare asks, and though his question should be directed at me, his eyes are set on Cam's.

"I asked him not to," I cut in, bringing Jare's gaze back to me. "I wanted to tell you in person. Show you that I'm okay. I didn't want you to worry from so far away. That's all. Besides, I'm telling you now, right? And really, I'm good."

There's truth behind those words. When this all went down, the last thing I wanted was for Jare to worry. And he would. I know he would have. Keeping it from him until I could tell him in person was the plan. What wasn't the plan was fake dating his best friend, and even more so, falling for him.

Jare is quiet, his eyes shifting between me and Cam before he lets out a heavy breath. "You're good?" he asks, seeking reassurance.

"Yes."

He nods. "I'm sorry, Mack. I know I was hard on him, and I never liked him, but I am sorry. I wish I was here for you, but I'm glad Cam was when I couldn't be."

Cam shifts in his seat, a slight smile offered toward my brother before he slides his hands down his thighs and blurts out, "I'm gonna use the bathroom."

I watch as he excuses himself from the booth and takes off toward the hall, running a hand through his hair. Jare continues to talk about his order, changing out his hashbrowns for home fries and deciding on a tall glass of fresh squeezed orange juice.

"Mack, since we have a minute, there's actually something–"

"I'm sorry," I cut my brother off. But my attention is still set on the direction Cam took off to, my mind wrapped in worry. "I really need to pee too. I'm gonna use this chance to run to the restroom. I'll be right back."

"Oh, yeah. Go for it. We can talk later."

I nod before rushing from the booth and making my way through the restaurant. I pass the open bathroom door, knowing that's not where Cam actually went. Instead, I continue through to the end of the hall and push open the back door.

Cam is standing in the small alleyway, that flustered hand still sliding through his hair when his eyes lock onto mine.

"I hate lying to him, Kenze," he exhales.

"I know." I take a small step forward and reach my hand for his.

He doesn't step away. Instead, his fingers lace with mine as he pulls me closer. "I don't know how long I can do this."

My heart stops in my chest, the air needed to function now swallowed whole.

"No," Cam jumps back in, his palm along my cheek as he pulls me even closer. "I didn't mean this." He brings his forehead to mine and holds the two of us together. "I mean keeping this from him. Pretending like my heart's not screaming to hold you."

"Me too," I whisper. "But he's leaving tomorrow. He's going to need time when we tell him. I don't want him leaving with this sense of unfinished business and anger."

His soft breath tickles my lips as he mulls over my words. "So, what do you want to do?"

I lift my head from his, letting our eyes meet. "I think we still tell him at Thanksgiving when we have more time to work it out."

"Thanksgiving," he repeats. "That's still two weeks away."

"I know."

He's quiet as he looks at me, the thoughts swimming around the perfect green of his eyes. Slowly, his fingers shift to my temple, gently brushing my hair behind my ear before placing a kiss to my forehead. "Okay. We'll tell him at Thanksgiving."

The warmth of his lips lingers against my skin, the memory of last night still dances against my heart. "It's going to be really hard," I breathe out.

"What is?"

"Not kissing you all weekend."

The smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth works its way to my stomach, dancing with all the butterflies taking flight. He leans in and brushes his lips along my neck. "Who said anything about not kissing?"

When his eyes meet mine, I pull him against me and let our lips meet. I know choosing to lie to my brother is wrong on so many levels, but it's only for a day. Soon he'll know everything. When the time is right.

That time just isn't right now.