CAMDEN KENT
"Oh my God–this is Camden? You're Camden?"
Here we go.
"Yes," I offered a slightly uncomfortable laugh as the Jeff guy's girlfriend gestured to me. It felt reminiscent to meeting Gemma and Anne, except different accents and higher energy were both involved.
"God, you're even more beautiful in person than you are on Instagram," she chuckled, and I could tell she was being genuine. She was also beyond gorgeous herself, but I wasn't about to return the compliment and make it sound like I was just saying it because she did.
"Thanks, sorry I just got out of the shower and stuff, so I'm kind of a mess," I gestured to my denim shorts and black Harley Davidson t-shirt.
"Yeah, we went to the beach so it's been a long day," Harry added with a hint of passive-aggressiveness in his tone.
"Well, now you don't have to bother with dinner," Glenne beamed with perfect teeth and a beautiful smile, grabbing the baking dish from the oven. "I hope you like lasagna, Cam. It's my mom's recipe and she's fully Italian."
"I do, yeah," I awkwardly stepped forward, unsure of what to do while Jeff placed a salad bowl on the set table, and Glenne asked Harry if he had any red wine or just whiskey.
I was grateful to sit down when my legs still felt a bit uneasy, mostly due to the fact that Harry was pressing himself up against me no longer than fifteen short minutes ago. I swear that I blacked that moment out when my desire to have him completely took over every other instinct I had, which in turn forced me to ignore the fact that maybe it wasn't a good idea to do whatever we were about to do.
"So when did you get in, Cam?" Glenne asked, and I took note of the way she already felt comfortable enough to use a nickname for me.
"Just yesterday," I thanked her for serving me a large square of the gooey lasagna first, followed by a good amount of salad.
"Are you happy to be back in the States? Harry told us that you're from Arizona."
I glanced to him, wondering just how much he told his friends about me without my knowledge. "I am from Arizona, yeah, and I'm happy to be here. I miss London though."
"Yeah, Jeff's taken me with him on business a few times, and it's gorgeous there. Definitely has a lot more charm than anywhere America has to offer."
"Mhm," I sipped from the red wine she found in Harry's small wet bar. "I like it there."
As we started to eat, the sound of silverware scraping on the porcelain plates took over. Harry kept glancing to Jeff, who would glance to Glenne, who would glance to Harry again. I had no idea what the point of the whole thing was, but it felt a bit like an ambush. My only comfort came from knowing that Harry was clearly just as surprised as I was to have them there.
"So Harry told us how you two initially met, but I think I'd like to hear it from you," Glenne finally spoke up again, just as I had stuffed my mouth with a forkful of lasagna.
"Mm–" I grabbed a napkin from the middle of the table, swallowing as I wiped my mouth. "So I was working at this sports bar, and he basically just asked me for my number and stuff. I said no, he persisted, I told him I don't do relationships, he said the same thing, then we hooked up that night."
That was definitely more of an honest telling of that story than the one I gave to his family, but I guess I didn't feel the need to sugarcoat things with his friends. We were all adults there, and it wasn't necessarily my job to try and impress them. I tried that with Brandon's friends, and it got me nowhere.
