Another Chance, page 1
Another Chance
Chelsea M. Cameron
Contents
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About Another Chance
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
About What are the Chances
About Just One Night
About the Author
Also by Chelsea M. Cameron
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About Another Chance
When Farrah tells her three closest friends that they should all take off to a small town in Maine for a month, they have no idea how it’s going to work. But Farrah doesn’t like taking no for an answer so soon, all four of them are staying together in a cottage near the beach. It’s everything Farrah needs to get away from her life, which has been a little rocky as of late. At least she has her best friend, Spencer, to lean on. The two of them were high school sweethearts who went their separate ways for years before ending up in the same city again and reconnecting as friends. Only friends. Well, except for that one steamy night when they had a few too many drinks and one thing led to another…
The one night that would change everything.
Chapter One
Farrah
“I need a freaking vacation,” I muttered to myself as I opened my inbox and saw multiple emails from one of my problem clients. I’d only been “on the clock” for ten minutes and already I needed a break. I shut my computer and took a deep breath and got up to make myself another cup of coffee. When I’d originally envisioned my freelance career, I didn’t envision so much crying and cursing at my computer and lost hours of sleep when a client decided to be difficult.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled my social media for something to make me laugh and set me up for a good day. Most mornings I tried to meditate for a few minutes before I sat down at my computer and turned my work brain on, but I’d skipped today. Rookie mistake.
As my coffee brewed, I took a deep breath and told myself that I wasn’t a brain surgeon. I was a freelance copy editor. No one was going to die if I delayed reading an annoying email for a few hours. The perfectionist side of my brain howled in frustration.
I need a vacation immediately I texted my best friend, Spencer.
She responded right away, even though it was still early. Knowing Spencer, she was probably still lounging in bed. Spencer was also a freelancer, but she was a lot more casual about her working hours than I was. More often than not, I could show up at her apartment and find her lying in bed with her laptop still wearing her pajamas and chowing down on a breakfast taco she’d had delivered. That kind of chaos would make me have a breakdown, but it worked for her. She’d built an incredible business as a freelance book marketing strategist helping all kinds of authors break out and sell millions of books.
Oh really? What have I been saying for the past six months? She sent and I could literally hear her saying the words in my head as I read them from my phone.
Spencer and I went all the way back to high school. She had seen the good, the bad, the ugly. Even though we’d only reconnected a year ago when she moved to Boston, it was like no time had passed.
Go ahead and say it I responded.
Say what? She sent.
Say ‘I told you so.’ I know you want to I replied.
Someday you, my dear Fare, will realize that I am always right and you should just listen to me the first time she sent.
There it is I responded.
My coffee was waiting for me, so I carefully sipped my cup and tried to turn my brain off for a few minutes, but all I could think about was my inbox. It was best to tackle the dragon head on, so even before I finished my cup, I was opening my laptop again, cracking my neck, and opening the emails.
One of the best parts of working from home was that you couldn’t get in trouble when you cursed your clients out. I was sure my neighbors had heard me more than once.
If you’re really serious about this trip, and I think you are, you should tell Colette and Hope. They’re going to want to be in on it Spencer sent after I’d responded to the most pressing client emails.
Spencer, Hope, Colette, and I had been close friends for almost a year, but it honestly felt like decades. They three of them were my support system, my shoulders to cry on, the people I reached out to when I had news, good or bad. Some weeks I felt like I spent more time at their apartments than my own. If I was going on vacation, I had to have them come with me.
While I agreed with Spencer, I needed to completely focus on work right now, so I put my phone on silent and would slide into the group chat during my scheduled lunch break which couldn’t come soon enough.
When I checked my phone again, I had a number of messages and silly things from Spencer, as usual. She knew my schedule, so she wasn’t upset when I didn’t respond for hours at a time.
I ran downstairs to grab the salad I’d ordered and brought it back up, huffing as I ascended the stairs. I really did need to get out and walk more. I’d turned thirty a few months ago and I knew if I sat at my desk too much, my back started to ache, and my knees had recently started doing this weird cracking thing.
I ate my lunch on the living room couch with a true crime show on in the background as I caught up on the group chat. Hope was always bursting with interesting stories, and today was no exception. She worked as a freelance ghostwriter and had even penned several celebrity memoirs. Hope was the kind of person who somehow knew everything about everyone, and if she didn’t know, she knew how to find out. She was a one-woman celebrity gossip site.
After feverishly scrolling through an update about a reality show relationship cheating scandal, I decided to pitch my idea.
Let’s go on vacation this summer. All four of us I sent.
The responses were immediate.
YES! Finally. I have needed a vacation forever Hope sent.
For how long? I have so many deadlines Colette sent, predictably. If there was one person who was more obsessed with work than me, it was Colette.
Come ON, Colette, you have to take a break sometime. You’re going to work yourself into the grave Spencer responded.
Some of us have bills to pay, Spence Colette fired back.
I pay my bills. Mostly on time Spencer sent.
This was getting out of hand.
Listen, I think it would be good for all of us. Since we all freelance, we can still work while we’re there. Wherever we go. What does everyone’s schedule look like? I sent to get everyone back on track.
Once we decided when and for how long we’d go, we could then narrow down a location. I didn’t think we should go anywhere too exotic or expensive. Someplace quiet, where we could take walks. Maybe somewhere by the ocean, so we could go to the beach.
The rest of my lunch break was eaten up with back and forth, everyone sharing when they could and couldn’t go.
Miraculously, we agreed that we could each go for a month, and we narrowed down dates. A month seemed like an incredibly long time, but then I remembered that I hadn’t taken more than a weekend off in three years. We were all overdue. We’d earned this.
What is the name of that town you grew up in, Colette? Spencer asked.
Castleton Colette responded. I haven’t gone back since I graduated high school, though.
Maine. That was far enough away from Boston to feel like we were somewhere different, but still close enough that we wouldn’t have to fly, which would cut down on travel time and expense.
Wow, it’s really pretty Hope sent, along with some pictures she’d found online. Not only was there a beach, but there was a lighthouse and the cutest little downtown you could find. And a food truck that served lobster rolls? I was completely sold.
I love it I sent, and everyone, except Colette agreed. Even though I needed to get back to my desk, I did a quick search for rentals in Castleton and found a ton, including a cottage right by the beach with three bedrooms and a deck that looked out over the water. We’d be within walking distance of the best Castleton had to offer. I could already picture myself getting sunburned on the sand of the beach while I read a good book from start to finish.
It was perfect.
Chapter Two
Spencer
Maine wasn’t my first choice for vacation paradise, but I quickly warmed up to the idea. Ever the planner, Farrah had sent a number of listings of potential places to rent by the week, and one of them was this pretty little cottage right by the beach, which was ideal.
Going to Maine was probably a better financial decision than a cruise or Tuscany or something. They at least had good seafood, fresh from the ocean. There was bound to be about zero nightlife, which I was a little concerned about. Sitting on the beach was fine for the day, but what the hell were we supposed to do at night?
Still, I could feel Farrah’s excitement as well as Hope’s. Colette was grumpy about it, but Colette was grumpy about a lot of things. We didn’t take her that seriously, and it was all part of her charm.
Before the night was over, Farrah had booked the cottage and I was already mentally sorting through my wardrobe for what I should wear.
One whole month of vacation on the beach couldn’t be that bad.
“This is exactly what I pictured,” I said a few weeks later when we finally arrived at our cottage after cruising from 295 to 1-95 to Castleton. The town was just as precious as it had looked online. Every single view was a social media campaign and I didn’t know if I was going to get used to it. I also didn’t miss the sheer amount of rainbow flags around. I’d done a little digging and found that Castleton was somehow an excellent queer destination, so that was another point in its favor. Why the hell had Colette moved away in the first place?
“Oh my god I love it,” Farrah said as we all took in the cottage. Not only was it decorated in lobster red, nautical blue, tan, and white, there were little coastal touches everywhere, from a lampshade covered in seashells to the anchors on the shower curtains to the crocheted pillows on the couch with lobsters on them.
“They like a theme, that’s for sure,” I said, dropping my bags on the floor and slipping off my shoes.
“We should assign rooms now,” Colette said, looking around with a frown. We’d all driven our own cars, so we had them on hand for emergencies, so I hadn’t had to hear her complain the entire drive, which was a plus. She’d been down on this location since it was suggested, and she hadn’t changed her stance. I hoped the next month wasn’t going to be miserable for her. She had agreed to come when she could have just stayed home.
The only downside to this cottage was the fact that there were only three bedrooms, so two of us would have to share. I’d been lowkey stressed about that prospect, but only because I didn’t want to have to share with Farrah. Not because I didn’t like her, but because sharing a bedroom with your former high school sweetheart was a little fucking awkward.
Farrah and I had met the first week of freshman year and I’d thought she was the most beautiful girl in the entire world. With her long dark hair (it had been almost to her waist at that time), and her bright smile, it felt like I’d been hit by a truck. I’d known right then that I had to be around her. Had to know who she was. Had to make her see me.
Through some miracle, Farrah had seen me. Me, Spencer with the terrible dye job I’d done at home (why did I try to attempt my own highlights?), and my secondhand clothes and my awkwardness. She’d thought I was funny and every time she laughed, butterflies danced in my stomach. The feelings came fast and hard and before I knew it, we were holding hands between classes and kissing behind the gym after school. For the next four years, Farrah had been my entire world.
That’s not an exaggeration. Teen love can be all-consuming, and ours was. When I wasn’t with her, I was thinking about her and picturing our future. As quickly as our romance had exploded, things burned out over the summer as we prepared to go to college. Different colleges, which wasn’t what I wanted. Of course, I was that girl who wanted to follow her girlfriend to the same school so we could room with each other and pretend to be wives. Farrah had disagreed and applied to a bunch of places behind my back and before I knew what was happening, she had packed her car and left me behind.
At the time, I’d been a complete fucking wreck. I’d cried for days and my parents had been worried about me. Ah, young love. In hindsight, I understand why she did it. Our relationship hadn’t been perfect. We had both needed to stretch and grow and see who we could become without each other. I wouldn’t say I was happy that we’d broken up, but I would say that I didn’t think we would have been able to make it long-term and long-distance. Instead of spending all my time calling her or wondering where she was, I’d made friends and tried new things and had figured myself out.
That was all in the past. We were grown now. Hell, I was thirty-one years old. That high school relationship felt like it had happened five lifetimes and twenty hairstyles ago.
We’d both grown up.
“The only fair way to assign rooms is to write our names down and choose them at random,” Farrah said, pulling a small notebook out of her bag. She also had a pen and carefully wrote each of our names down before tearing the paper into four pieces.
“Give me your hat,” she said, and I took off my Red Sox hat and handed it to her. She added the folded pieces and sort of shook them up before pushing the hat toward me.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” I said as I reached in, stirred up the pieces and pulled two out.
The first one had Farrah’s name on it. The second had mine.
We looked at each other and she gave me a tight smile.
“There are two beds,” she said. “And it’s not like we haven’t shared space before.”
It was now down to Hope and Colette to fight over the single rooms, which they went off to do while Farrah and I hauled our stuff upstairs to our room.
Once we were both inside, I shut the door. It wasn’t as if Hope and Colette didn’t know we had history, but I still wanted to have some privacy as I checked in with Farrah.
“This isn’t going to be weird, right?” I asked as she went to the window and peered through the white curtains.
“No, why would it be?” she said, not looking at me.
“I guess it wouldn’t,” I said. “Which bed do you want?”
Farrah turned around, her body silhouetted by the sun streaming in the window. Sometimes it still hit me how fucking gorgeous she was. Farrah had been beautiful in high school, but she was even more breathtaking now.
“This one,” she said, patting the bed closest to the window. I’d known that was the one she’d pick. I dropped my bag on the second.
“So if there’s a burglar, you want me to save you,” I said, remembering having this exact same conversation many years ago.
Farrah smiled softly. “Exactly.”
We lapsed into silence as she started unpacking her things and putting them in the dresser. I figured I should do the same, since we had an entire month here. There was only one closet in the room, but we split it in half and made everything fit.
“Why did you bring your winter coat?” Farrah asked as I hung it up.
“Just in case. You never know,” I said.
“I don’t think it’s going to snow in June,” she said with a snort.
“You’ll be sorry when it does and I’m toasty warm and you have frostbite,” I said, tweaking her nose. Sometimes it was impossible to stop falling into those old patterns from high school. When I’d take any and every excuse to touch her.
Farrah laughed and stepped around me, heading for the door.
“Let’s go see what everyone else is up to,” she said. I followed her back downstairs.
Chapter Three
Farrah
Once we’d all settled in, we agreed we were all starving, so we freshened up and headed out to explore this little town.
“Where should we eat?” I asked Colette.
“I have no idea. Like I said, I haven’t been here in years,” she said, trying to hide her face behind her light brown bangs and giant sunglasses. Her outfit was what I’d call “witness protection chic” and I thought she was being just a little dramatic. Sure, she’d grown up here, but would that many people notice and immediately know who she was? I had doubts.
“I want to stick my feet in the sand so much, but I’m so hungry,” Spencer said, putting her hand on her growling belly. If we didn’t feed her soon, she was going to cross over into hangry Spencer, and that was something I wanted to avoid. Spencer when she was hungry was a whole monster.
