9. Sloane

CHAPTER 9

SLOANE

I back away from the huge crowd circling Cam and head to the edge of the lake alone. The waves lap at the sand as I stare out into the darkness.

I should have expected this. Of course everyone’s going to swarm Cam. He’s a gorgeous professional football player living every small-town boy’s dream. Like I told Gracelyn at Java Jolt, he’s a regular ole’ hometown hero. Guys want to be him and women want to be with him.

Why did I think coming out here would be a good idea?

I would much rather be sitting at home, watching a made-for-TV movie on the sofa with my dad wedged between us, than out here with all these people.

“Hey.”

The low, gravelly voice drifts on the wind, a light tickle on my skin. I spin and face Cam.

“Hey. Thought you’d still be busy snapping selfies with your adoring fans.” I tip my head in the direction of the bonfire and he grimaces .

“Nah. I’ve done all the PR I’m doing tonight. Why are you out here all alone? No Gracelyn?”

“I couldn’t find her. Too many people. I just needed to get away for a minute. Being back home is kind of a lot—I’m out of practice.”

“Agreed. I thought it was just me.”

“Nope.”

“You think the swing’s still out there?” Cam squints at the massive oak tree in the distance.

I follow his gaze. “I don’t know. Want to find out?”

His deep blue eyes slide to mine and my heart thunders harder in my chest.

“I’d like that.”

Cam and I move side by side in the darkness, with just enough space between us to keep me guessing.

“Careful, Trouble,” he warns, offering me his large hand as we cross over the flat but slippery rocks lodged in a tiny stream. His skin’s rough against mine, his fingers strong.

He doesn’t let go.

I try not to freak out or dissect the meaning of it all. Frogs croak off to the left, probably hanging out in the tall grasses near the lake or sitting on the lily pads at the edge. A light breeze blows, ruffling my hair and cooling the heated skin on my neck, my shoulders.

Finally, we’re near the tree.

“Oh my gosh, Cam—it’s still here!” I can’t keep the excitement out of my voice. “After all this time…”

“Guess some things never change.” He locks eyes with me, squeezing my fingers lightly, so lightly I may be imagining it. A warmth blooms in my chest and I’m happy. Genuinely happy, here in this moment.

“Wanna swing?” Cam asks and I give him a slow smile .

“Absolutely.”

We make our way over to the towering tree and Cam gives the ropes a good, hard tug, checking the stability.

“Should be good.”

I sit gingerly on the wooden swing, testing the board under my weight. I’d hate to go crashing to the ground and bust my ass right in front of Cam.

“You’re fine, Trouble. Relax.” He moves behind me, his massive hands covering mine on the ropes, the heat from his body soaking into my back. I lift my feet and he gives me a light push, the limb of the tree creaking.

I’m instantly transported back in time, the wind cooling my cheeks as I float through the air. All the anxiety and frustration of the past few months melt away as Cam pushes me, higher and higher. I suck in, the fresh air filling my lungs, and I can breathe again.

Really breathe.

And Cam’s right here with me.

Even though all this time has passed, it doesn’t feel that way. Being with Cam feels easy, simple.

So many mistakes have been made—on my end, at least—but all of that blows away on the summer breeze. I tilt my head up at the white glittering stars and marvel at the perfect night, this absolutely magical moment.

“You happy, Trouble?” Cam asks as the swing gradually slows, my feet dragging across the dirt.

“Right now? Yes.”

His chest rests against my back, a solid wall of muscle, the scent of his cologne winding around me.

“Not just now. Like, in general.”

Cam’s breath rises and falls behind me, the swing swaying slightly as I press my tongue to the inside of my cheek, contemplating .

“I’m happier now than I was in New Orleans—” My stomach flip-flops thinking about my broken engagement, a hot flush creeping into my cheeks. “I’m glad I didn’t make a huge mistake.”

In one quick move, Cam’s standing in front of me. His marine eyes meet mine, and he fixes me with a smoldering gaze. The tip of his tongue darts out, licking along his bottom lip, and I’m frozen in the sultry southern heat.

“Me too.”

My breath hitches and I’m vaguely concerned I might pass out. I force air in, then out, then back in again.

“What about you? Were you happy in Chicago? Playing pro football?”

He presses his lips together, his gaze dropping down to the red clay. “Yes and no. I love playing ball, don’t get me wrong. Always have. But it wasn’t what I expected.”

I study his face, trying to read his expression. Cam’s never been an easy one to figure out, and he’s more guarded now than ever. Probably serves him well with the press, but the attribute’s not making my life any easier.

“Oh? How so?”

His jaw tenses, and I know I hit a nerve.

“It’s nothing. Stupid, really.” He shoves a hand in his pocket, shuffles his feet.

I drop my voice lower. “You can tell me, Cam. It’s just me—I won’t drop any sound bites to the media, promise.”

Blowing out a heavy breath, he sighs. “The pressure was intense. Not the pressure of performance, or the game. I know how to handle that, been practicing for years. But the interviews, the media, all the constant noise. Not to sound like an asshole, but some of the fans were too much, getting rowdy and handsy after games. Like I said—it was a lot. I didn’t realize how private I am until that wasn’t an option.”

“I don’t have the experience like you do—” I chew at my lip, tossing around for the right words. “But I think there’s an option. You keep a part of yourself private, hidden and tucked away. You save it. For the people you trust.”

He lifts his eyes to mine and I’m struck by the dark shadows haunting his face. Making him no less handsome, but giving him a sharp edge. Some of his shine’s dulled, the glint in his eyes dimmed.

“You’re right. I’ll have to try that.”

“You want to go back to the pros, right?”

“Yes. Football’s my life—” His voice trails off and he glances away toward the lake, the moon shining bright over the water.

A long beat passes, the croaking louder, leaves rustling overhead.

I take a big, scary risk, rising from the swing until I’m face to face with Cam. Stepping in close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, to count the tiny dark hairs shading his square jaw.

Lifting my hand to his chest—daring to touch his steely pecs—I rest my palm over his heart, feel the dull thudding with each passing second.

“You’re more than football, Cam. You always have been.”

He blinks, pupils wide beneath his dark lashes. His jaw tics and I worry for a second that I overstepped, acting like one of the fangirls he dislikes.

“Thanks, Trouble. I needed to hear that, more than you know.” He swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his thick neck, and I’m glad I took the risk .

A loud whoop rises from the direction of the bonfire and I drop my hand, stepping back into my own space.

“Wanna get outta here?” he asks and I nod.

“I’d love to.”

Together, we make our way back toward the gathering, the space between us smaller now.

“I should text Gracelyn and let her know I’m cutting out. Gimmee a sec,” I say, already punching out the message. Cam waits, hands shoved in his pockets as he stares out across the lake.

“Ugh—she asked me to meet her real quick. Do you mind?”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll wait.”

I tell Gracelyn to head over toward the parking lot and Cam and I start walking that direction. He’s hunched forward, shoulders slumping, a marked difference from his earlier confident swagger.

Cam really doesn’t like crowds.

“Crawford? Is it really you? The prodigal son returned home?” a voice booms from behind us and Cam spins around.

“Nash. What’s up?” Cam grins and high-fives, then bro hugs Nash, another high school football buddy.

“Not much. You home for a visit?”

“Sort of a longish visit. I’m in town for the summer, training. What’s good?”

“Everything, brother. Yo, Nate! Look who’s here!” Nash bellows to his twin brother across the field and within minutes Cam’s swarmed by people again. At least this time they’re mostly his friends, so he seems more comfortable.

I lean in, touching his arm. “I’m going to find Gracelyn real quick. I’ll meet you at the car. ”

He shoots me a thumbs-up, and I jog away to find Gracelyn.

“Hey, sorry I’m so late.” Grace hugs me, the scent of bleach and her heavy floral perfume kicking me in the nose. “My last client was an hour late, but it didn’t feel right to cancel on her since it was the babysitter’s fault. Anyway—what did I miss? Where’s Cam?” Gracelyn waggles her brows at me before swiveling her head around like an owl, searching for Cam.

“Not much. The usual stuff—Nick draining Mich Ultras like it’s his job, bragging about his boat and his big insurance job. Everyone going wild over Cam and his career.”

“Like that?” Gracelyn grabs my shoulders, spinning me around toward the bonfire. Sure enough, there’s a large group of women gathered around Cam, cell phones out, cameras flashing.

“For fuck’s sake, the guy can’t get a break,” I mutter, feeling guilty for leaving Cam’s side. A tall redhead strokes his forearm, rubbing on him like he’s a genie in a bottle, ready to grant her three X-rated wishes, and my gut twists.

“That snake—” Gracelyn hisses, her fists balled.

“Who is that? I don’t recognize her.”

“Oh, you know her. That’s Jamie Ware, the girl who tripped me in the ninth grade when I was getting on the bus. I splatted face-first in front of Nash and Nate, busted up both my knees. I bled the whole way home, mortified. Bitch,” Gracelyn scowls. “She dyed her hair and her eyebrows finally grew back from the horrendous wax job she got over in Lightning Ridge. You know—because she wouldn’t come to our salon. Said it was ‘too country’ for her.” Gracelyn air quotes the last part, her frown deep.

“Oh, right. Now I remember.” I stare at the scene as she fawns over Cam, inching in closer. She is beautiful and I wouldn’t blame him if he was interested.

He backs away, but she throws her head back, laughing. Then she spreads her hands over his chest, stroking him, and bile rises in my throat.

Nobody should have to endure groping like that, not even a professional football star.

Fire licking inside me, I grab Gracelyn’s elbow and stalk over to the group crowding around Cam.

“Hey, Cam. You ready to go?” I jostle my way in next to him and he visibly relaxes, fingers uncurling at his side.

Jamie glares at me, puffing out her ample chest.

“Oh hey, Sloane. I heard you were back in town, living with your daddy.” Her tone’s saccharine-sweet as she smirks at me with deep red lips.

“I am. I’m kind of between places right now. What have you been up to?” I work hard to infuse the same sweetness into my voice. Damn, the struggle is real.

Jamie flips her long, scarlet hair over her shoulder. “I’ve been away most of the spring. Modeling in Europe.”

Of course she has.

“Awesome. Good on you. Ready, Cam?”

“Yeah.”

I try to drag us out of the uncomfortable conversation, but Gracelyn keeps going, stirring the pot.

“Where in Europe?” she asks, folding her arms over her chest.

“Mainly Paris. I did do a photoshoot in Milan, though, and that was amazing.” Jamie somehow draws the word ‘amazing’ out to a full six syllables.

“What were you modeling?” Gracelyn presses, and I swear I hear my bestie murmur ‘ Besides your tits’ under her breath .

“Perfume. Sunglasses. I did a lingerie shoot.” Jamie pins her eyes on Cam as she mentions the lingerie and Cam shifts uncomfortably.

“Catalog stuff. Nice. Maybe we’ll catch your photos in the Dollar Depot flyer this weekend,” Grace quips and Jamie blanches.

“Hardly, Gracelyn,” Jamie fires back. “You having as much luck in the love department as your bestie here?”

“Fuck off, Jamie,” Gracelyn spats and I interject, taking Grace by the elbow.

“Oh-kay. Have a great night!” I wave at Jamie and the growing crowd, people now fully invested in the catfight between Jamie and Gracelyn. Jamie waggles her fingers, the corners of her lips tipping up into a sly smile, knowing she got under Grace’s skin.

“Bye, Cam!” she trills as we retreat.

We head to the parking lot, Gracelyn cursing Jamie under her breath and stomping her feet the whole way. Cam stays silent as I try to calm Grace down.

“Don’t worry about her, Grace. She’s probably had a rough time or something, we don’t know.”

“Oh, I do know. She’s always been a bitch. Good to see things haven’t changed.”

I pop Gracelyn into her car and we say our good-byes.

“I don’t think I’m up for the boat day, Sloane. Not if she’s going.” Grace stares at the crowd, her nose scrunched up as if she’s smelling garbage that’s baked out in the blazing sun for a week.

“Fine by me.” Cam shrugs. “I’m pretty beat and could use a rest day.”

“Okay, it’s decided. No to the boat day.”

Truth be told, I’m a little bummed because I would have loved seeing Cam in a swimsuit. But I’d also love having him all to myself—and I’d rather avoid Jamie too. I didn’t like her pawing at Cam, and I definitely didn’t like the snarky tone she took with me and Gracelyn.

“See you kids, later!” Grace waves through the window as she peels out of the lot, dust circling behind her.

“C’mon, Trouble. Let’s get out of here.” Cam grabs my hand and breath hitches in my throat as I sneak a glance at the spot where our fingers join.

The motion’s so easy, so natural—almost instinctual—and I wonder if Cam knows the effect his touch is having on my pounding heart.