Almost Just Friends Read online

  Not all that unlike the one in the house behind him.

  He’d watched the reunion between siblings with great curiosity. He’d been surprised at the dynamic between Piper and Winnie. They hadn’t greeted each other like siblings. More like irritated parent and wayward child. There was clearly a lot of resentment built up there, both in the way they spoke to each other and in body language.

  Same with Piper and Gavin.

  Having not grown up in the same house as his brother, it felt oddly familiar. Cam was thirty-two now, and Rowan had been twenty when he died. That twelve-year age gap had seemed huge for most of their lives, putting an almost-parental spin on their relationship.

  So, though Piper didn’t know it, he felt connected to her on a core level.

  In between the two houses, the so-called creek was still flowing like a wild river. He turned to head up to the street, taking his chances by going around to the back of the houses—and came face-to-face with Winnie.

  “Hey,” she said, looking over her shoulder as if to make sure no one was watching.

  “Hey,” he said back. “Want to tell me why no one seems to know you’re pregnant with my brother’s baby?”

  “Oh my God, shhh!” She looked over her shoulder again, then grabbed his hand and yanked him down the steps and into the light drizzle. She pulled him around the corner to the side yard, where they stood beneath the overhang protecting the air-conditioning unit.

  She wasn’t showing at all, which made sense. She’d gotten pregnant three months ago, just before Rowan’s death. “You left the funeral without saying good-bye. I’m taking it that was on purpose,” Cam said.

  Winnie closed her eyes and then opened them again, revealing a grief that Cam understood all too well. “I appreciate you telling your dad to let me know about the funeral. I also appreciate you sending me the money for the flight and hotel costs to get there.”

  “What money?”

  She gave him a get real look, gentled by a small smile. “I know it was you, Cam.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Rowan would’ve wanted you there.”

  Her eyes went a little shiny as she nodded and looked away.

  He gave her a moment, mostly because seeing her grief triggered his ever-present pain as well. “He wanted me to take care of you,” he finally said, putting his mission out in the open. He’d promised Rowan, and Cam never broke a promise. At least not anymore. In the past, he’d let down his mom. He’d let down his brother. And now they were both gone, and he could never make it up to them.

  And hell, he’d also let his dad down, by not even knowing the guy was sick. That was especially hard to take, because he didn’t think he’d survive failing someone else he cared about.

  But Winnie was shaking her head. “Thank you, but I don’t want to be anyone’s burden. This”—she pressed her hands to her still-flat belly—“the Bean . . . it’s on me.”

  “You’re not a burden.” He waited until she looked at him, this woman who was still mostly a girl, but had been encumbered with a responsibility that he was pretty sure she didn’t yet fully understand. “And I want to do this. You’re carrying my future niece or nephew.”

  She stared up at him. “So . . . you don’t think I’m a screw-up? Just a girl who was stupid enough to get herself pregnant?”

  “Is that why you’re not telling Piper? You think she’ll call you a screw-up?”

  “Yes, because I am.”

  “Winnie . . .” He searched for words to put meaning behind the emotion clogging his throat. “I lost time with my brother,” he finally said. “I don’t want to make the same mistake here. As far as I’m concerned, you and your baby are family.”

  She seemed surprised but also relieved. “What will happen when you go back to work?”

  “We’ll stay in contact,” he said. “I’ll still be there for you and the baby, however I’m needed.”

  She looked torn between wanting to believe him and being utterly unable to do so. That was okay; Cam was used to proving himself.

  Finally, Winnie sighed and squeezed his hand. “What you did for me, helping me get to the funeral, means more than you’ll ever know. Thanks for letting me say good-bye to him with you. But I absolve you of any further obligation. Really. It’s not your fault Rowan’s gone.”

  Her honest grief hurt. Not that his grief wasn’t honest. It was, and that shit went soul deep, so much so that he wasn’t sure he could ever climb out. But his grief was tainted by guilt. So much fucking guilt. Because it was his fault Rowan was gone, and his alone. He hadn’t realized how much that would hurt, or how it would twist everything inside him, leaving him feeling lost and alone. He’d gladly give up everything to see Rowan again, to tell him how fucking proud of him he was for following his heart, for not letting circumstances dictate his direction in life. But he couldn’t. So he’d do this, watch over what Rowan couldn’t. “You shouldn’t keep this a secret from your siblings.”

  “Gavin knows,” Winnie said.

  “But not Piper.”

  “Not yet, no.”

  “Listen,” he said. “Take it from me, secrets like this tear families apart.”

  “It’s . . . complicated.”

  “Secrets always are.”

  Winnie sighed. “She also doesn’t know I dropped out of college.”

  “Why did you drop out?”

  She shrugged. “I was never into it.”

  He absorbed this for a beat, worried that the real reason was money. Rowan wouldn’t have wanted her to quit because of that. “Is it too late?” he asked. “Because I can help you with the costs.”

  “It’s not about the money. I only went in the first place to make Piper happy. I hated it. I wanted to be back here. Having morning sickness meant a lot of lying on the bathroom floor thinking too much, but the truth is that staying in college isn’t practical. I couldn’t graduate before the baby came, so what’s the point? Plus, I really want do something with my hands. I want to be useful. And I’m going to do that from here. Somehow.”

  “Are you sure? Because seriously, whatever you need—”

  “All I need,” she said very gently, “is for you to promise not to tell my sister any of this. Not until I’m ready.”

  Fuck. “Don’t ask that of me, Winnie.”

  “Please,” she said softly, meeting his gaze. “It’s just all too much right now, okay? First, losing my best friend—”

  “Seems like Rowan was a little more than that.”

  Winnie swallowed hard and looked down. “Maybe. We didn’t know, we didn’t realize until after we sort of accidentally slept together one night. Things might’ve changed then, but right after, he went back East to visit with you for a few weeks, and he . . .”

  “Never came home,” he finished quietly.

  She nodded and bit her lower lip. “And then I was in school, realizing that nothing felt right anymore, not class, not being out on my own, nothing . . .”

  “So you came home.”

  She nodded again, looking very young and very unsure.

  “Have you been continuing to see your doctor, the one you mentioned at the funeral?”

  “Yes. I had my patience tested. I’m negative.”

  He snorted. “Copy that.”

  “Doc said mama and baby are fine.”

  “Good. And I mean it, Winnie, when you need anything, just let me know. We can work out a way for me to cover your bills without any invasion of privacy. But . . .”

  She looked into his eyes, her own incredibly vulnerable and young. “But . . . ?”

  “You need to tell Piper.”

  “I know. I will,” she promised. “When I’m ready.”

  He drew in a long breath. “I’d do a lot for you, Winnie, but I’m not comfortable with lying to her.”

  “Well, I don’t feel comfortable throwing up every morning, but sometimes we have to deal with our lot in life. Promise me, Cam. Or I’ll leave, no forwarding address.”

  Shit.