11. Sloane

CHAPTER 11

SLOANE

C am and I spend the next two weeks hanging out together practically non-stop, cocooned in our safe little bubble, just the two of us.

I put off applying for the job at the library to spend time with him, sprawled on the sofa in the middle of the day. We binge watch Bridgerton (my pick, but he’s lying when he says he didn’t like it) and all four thousand Star Wars movies (obvs, his pick).

Scouring TikTok videos, we try out a bunch of recipes. Quick thirty-minute dinners, fancy gourmet meals, some gluten-free desserts. Most of the sweet treats end up in the trash, but a few of the thirty-minute recipes turn out great, a real bonus.

I drag him to the bi-weekly farmer’s market to visit my grandmother, Mimi, and check out the goat products she’s selling. We sample the cheese and milk and I convince Cam to buy a bar of goat milk soap—great for exfoliation.

In return, I spend time quizzing him on the Thunder Creek playbook, drawing the routes out on the whiteboard my dad installed in the kitchen. You know—for when lightning strikes while you’re in the middle of making a grilled cheese sandwich.

The only time we’re apart is when Cam’s at practice or the gym.

It’s the best two weeks of my adult life.

Everything I loved about him in high school is still there. That quick, easy smile, the dimple in his right cheek that winks at you when he’s happy. His deep belly laugh when I say or do something silly. The intensity in his marine eyes when he’s concentrating, a furrow etched in his brow. The absolute passion the man has for football. The only person I know with as much love for the game is my dad. I sit back enraptured every night at the dinner table, the two of them going back and forth about this play or that play. Cam will make a great coach someday, after he retires from the pros.

We’re as close now as we ever were and everything feels so right between us.

Everything except for the fact that we haven’t kissed.

I’m still deep in the friend zone. There’s been some long, lingering gazes, a flirtatious arm stroke here or there.

But that’s it. Nothing more and I’m beginning to wonder if I’m reading the room all wrong. Maybe this thing between us is all one-sided and I’m only seeing what I want to see, what I hope is there.

Gracelyn keeps telling me to open up to him and confess my feelings, but I can’t bring myself to do it. The fear of rejection, of hearing Cam say the word ‘no’ out loud, silences me. The words dry and wither on my tongue every time I try, and I swallow them back down, bitter little pills .

Cam and I are in the middle of a cheesy made-for-TV thriller when my phone buzzes with a text.

“Cam, Gracelyn got invited out on Nick’s boat again and wants us to go with her. For moral support.”

“You want to go?” he asks.

“Well, here’s her text.” I read the text out loud in my best Gracelyn voice.

Bestie: Sloane—please, please, please come out on the boat with me. You and Cam both. I cannot go out there alone

Bestie: PLEASE!

“That’s in all caps by the way,” I say, waving the screen close to his face so he can see.

“A shouty text. She must be desperate,” Cam teases, chuckling.

Bestie: If Jamie’s there, she may throw me overboard and leave me to the gators

“Gracelyn’s so dramatic.” I roll my eyes at the phone. “Well, what do you think? Want to go? I know tomorrow’s your rest day.”

I’m not too thrilled about having to share Cam with the world on one of our last full days together before the summer schedule starts. But Gracelyn’s having a mini-crisis, so I figure I need to show up for her. I would’ve been lost without her this spring, so a boat day with the gang’s the least I can do.

“Do you want to go, Trouble?” He squints at me over his shoulder, the TV screen casting shadows on his face in the dim light of the living room .

“We can. I mean, I feel like I need to go. For Gracelyn.”

“Okay. Tell her to count us in.”

I tap out the message before settling back onto the sofa, scooting as close to Cam as I dare with my dad home in the other room.

Cam drives us out to the lake for the boat day, giving me ample time to field Gracelyn’s litany of texts.

Bestie: You excited about boat day? Cam in a bathing suit, am I right?

I can’t help but giggle at my friend.

Sloane: Yes, should be fun

Bestie: Sexy fun, yessss!

Bestie: You guys almost here? Lots of people already

Bestie: Where ARE you?

Bestie: SLOANE! Are you almost here?

Sloane: Relax. We’re parking

“Sloane! Cam! So glad you two could finally make it!” Nick taps the face of his watch as we walk over to the boat launch, a white captain’s hat slightly askew on his shaggy hair. “Okay, guys—everyone’s here now so we’re good to go! Hop aboard.”

At his command, a crush of people scrambles onto the boat .

“Hey, beautiful.” Nick extends his hand out to me, helping me up, and I smile at him.

“Hey, yourself. Thanks for inviting us.”

“You’re welcome, anytime. Drinks are in the cooler, along with some snacky-snacks.”

Cam follows right behind me and Nick shouts toward the back of the boat. “Crank up the tunes, boys—let’s get ready to party!”

Nick takes his place at the helm, easing the boat away from the dock as the music ratchets up. The fiberglass deck thrums with the beat of the bass and the vibration of the motor. Cam and I take a seat, wedging in between Gracelyn and Frisco.

The boat idles slowly through the no-wake zone, then we pick up speed as we move into deeper water. The wind whips my ponytail around behind me and I’m acutely aware of Cam next to me. Our thighs touching, warmth radiates from his skin, his clean scent winding around me and mixing with the humid marine air. I sneak a quick glance over at him and a hot blush creeps into my cheeks when we lock eyes. His pinky brushes mine and I fight the urge to wrap my finger around his, instead clasping my hands together.

The music’s loud, and coupled with the wind, it’s impossible to hold a conversation, so I don’t even try. Instead, I relax back into the seat and enjoy the ride out to the sandbar. It’s a trip I’ve made hundreds, if not thousands, of times, but today feels different, more charged—and I have a sneaking suspicion I know why. He’s tall, dark, and impossibly gorgeous. Also so far out of my league I’m not sure we’re even in the same galaxy, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting him.

Nick pulls back the speed as the water lightens, signaling that we’re nearing the sandbar. People start chatting and Frisco kicks up a conversation about football with Cam, talking salary caps and contracts. Finally, we get to the sandbar and Nick cuts the motor.

“Anchor’s down and the bar is open!” He flips the lid on the cooler and a loud cheer rises from the crowd at the back of the boat. Hands dip into the cooler, beers cracking open, and two people jump into the water.

“Come on in, the water’s fine!” A guy I vaguely recognize waves at us and several people strip off their T-shirts and shorts, diving in.

“You two going in?” Gracelyn asks me and Cam as she shimmies out of her cover-up.

“Sure.” Cam’s deep voice sends a thrill through me, straight to my core. “I need to put some sunblock on first—haven’t seen sun as strong as this in a while. Sloane, would you mind doing my back?”

“Uh, not at all,” I stammer, taking the blue tube of lotion from his outstretched hand as he lifts his shirt over his head. Grace waggles her eyebrows at me and I shoo her away before Cam catches her antics.

Uncapping the sunblock, I squeeze the white cream into my hands, my heart thudding so loud I’m afraid Cam might hear.

Relax, Sloane. Of course he’s going to ask you. You’re friends and you’re sitting next to him. Makes you the logical choice.

Lathering the lotion in my hands, I reach up, tentatively smoothing my hand across the broad area between his shoulder blades. His skin’s warm, cords of strong muscle rippling beneath the surface. I work the white sunblock in, careful not to miss any spots. My fingers glide between his shoulder blades over his shoulders. Heat curls in my belly and I’m lightheaded. I keep rubbing, working the lotion in, pausing to squirt more into my palm. Sliding over the entire surface of his back, my fingers dance up and down his muscular torso.

“Thanks.” The rumble of his voice vibrates against my palms, every inch of my body on fire.

“Sure, no problem.” The words come out breathy, as if I’ve been jogging for miles instead of sitting and applying sunscreen on a boat.

“You need some?” Cam glances back at me, seemingly unfazed, and I nod.

“Yeah, I do, actually.”

“I got you.” He reaches around, taking the sunblock from my hand, and electricity zips straight up my arm. “You’re gonna have to take your shirt off.” He gestures at my tank top.

“Oh, right.”

Yanking my shirt over my head quickly, I toss it into my bag before offering my back to Cam.

“All over, right?” His eyes travel downward and my face burns.

“Yes, please.”

Cam’s large palms land on my back, the cool lotion a balm to my overly heated skin. His touch is gentle as he works the cream over my flesh, tiny chill bumps rising in the wake of his calloused fingertips. He skates up and down my spine, over the shoulder blades, across my shoulders, then down the sides of my body. Dampness pools between my thighs as he rubs my skin.

“All good.” The click of the sunblock lid snapping into place jolts me back to reality and I ease away from him.

Tucking a loose hair behind my ear, I smile over my shoulder. “Thanks.”

“No problem. ”

We gaze at each other for a long second, everyone around us fading away. All I see is Cam—his strong jaw, full lips, the small, jagged scar above his right eye he got during a game in the tenth grade.

“You two coming in or what?” Gracelyn interrupts the moment, splashing water up at us.

“Yeah, yeah. Hang on.” Standing, I kick out of my sandals and shorts before walking to the back of the boat and snagging the last inner tube, throwing the pink plastic float over the side.

I tuck my legs up beneath me and jump overboard, feet-first into the cool water. Sinking down into the blue-green water of the lake, I relish the sensation of weightlessness, the relief from the heat.

After a long second, I swim back up to the surface, swiping to clear my eyes.

“Hey.” Cam’s low voice startles me, bubbly anticipation fizzing in my chest. He’s treading next to me and the small ripples swirl around my calves.

We’re so close our legs brush beneath the surface. Shiny water droplets glisten in his dark hair beneath the rays of the bright sun. A flash of heat rushes through me and my cheeks flame, and it’s not from the beating rays beaming down on us.

“Want to swim out further?” Cam tilts his head toward a sandbar a ways out, far from the crowd.

“Sure.”

“Hop on.” He pats the pink tube and I duck under, trying to lift myself up through the center as gracefully as possible. Pushing up and over the top, I flip over and kick my legs out in front of me, toes barely touching the water, fingers trailing along the glassy surface.

“You think you can make it all the way out there—” I point into the distance at the furthest sandbar. “Pushing me on this tube?”

“You doubt my swimming skills?” he teases me, already moving around to the front of the tube and grabbing the rubber handle. His fingers brush mine and my breath catches in my throat.

“No—” I lick at my lower lip, the brine from the lake salty on my tongue.

“Good. Trust me, Trouble. I got you.” Cam gives a hard kick beneath the water and we’re moving out toward the sandbar faster than anticipated. I try to help, reaching down and paddling with my hands, but I don’t make much of a difference. Most of the forward momentum comes from Cam.

His back is to me, one arm outstretched as he moves us away from the crowd. I marvel at the muscles rippling beneath the flesh, long cords of strength, flexing and bunching. Hot desire unfurls low in my belly and everything in me coils, tightening.

The sounds from the boat fade as we get further out into the lake, with only the occasional peal of laughter cutting through the quiet. A slight breeze cools my skin, waves lapping against the tube. Finally, Cam glides us onto the golden sand of the sandbar.

“We’ve arrived.” He eases the tube onto the edge, flashing a white, cheeky grin at me, the dimple in his right cheek popping.

He’s gorgeous. Even better grown-up, all sharp edges and chiseled physique. Gone is the boy—no more scrawny, awkward adolescence remains. Any insecurity’s been replaced by muscle, strength, confidence. Masculinity rolls off Cam in waves, like a force field humming over his taut skin. Every move lithe and athletic and my mind flashes to what that would be like in bed, his huge body hovering over mine. I want to reach out and run my fingers down his chest, over each pronounced abdominal muscle, all the way down to that deep-V that leads to…

“Sloane?” Cam’s voice startles me out of my fantasy. He inches closer to me, the raft squeaking as his body rubs against the plastic.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any regrets?” He peers over his shoulder, marine eyes lasered on mine.

“Sure. Doesn’t everybody?”

“I mean, like, big regrets. Things that you did or said—or didn’t say—that haunt you.”

The question feels dark and deep out here in the bright sunlight. I ponder for a second, rolling over all the things I could say.

Instead of answering, I kick the question back to him. “Do you?”

Cam leans back on his elbows, tipping his head up to the sky, his Adam’s apple defined in his long neck. I watch as his chest rises and falls, waiting. We sit still for a long minute, the waves lapping against the sandbar, the din of music from the boat pulsing over the surface of the water. Finally, Cam looks over at me again.

“I do. I’ve done some stuff I’m not proud of. Things I wish I could take back. But I can’t.” He bites at his lower lip, staring out over the blue of the lake. His jaw tics and I wonder what he’s talking about.

“We all have, Cam. You know and I know there’s no such thing as a perfect game. Life’s the same way.” I shrug, my wet ponytail flopping on my back.

“I know. It’s—some things change you. And now everything’s different, Trouble. I’m different.” He sits up, brushing his hand over my calf dangling in the water. Shock waves of excitement ripple through me at his gentle touch as I try to figure out what he means.

Another long beat passes before I respond.

“I think we’re all different now, Cam. Well, maybe all of us but Nick. He seems to be permanently stuck in high school.”

Cam chuckles, the corners of his lips tipping up into a smile. “I agree on Nick. But you don’t seem all that different.” His fingertips glide up and down my calf and I’m struggling to make sense of anything right now. “You’re still the fun, easygoing girl you always were, with the same sense of humor, the wit.”

I let out a half-laugh. “If by easygoing you mean floating along, still trying to figure shit out, then yeah.”

“We’re in the same place then.” Cam picks his hand up out of the water, sliding his fingers through mine. A light wind blows, the sun warm on my skin, as I stare at our fingers intertwined on the pink float. His much larger and thicker than mine, his grip strong yet tender.

Everything about this moment—about us here together—feels right.

Lifting my gaze to meet his, my entire body trembles as he leans forward, his face inches from mine. We’re so close I feel his breath on my face, the scent of the coconut sunscreen strong.

Crack!

A loud clap of thunder rings out and the sun’s rapidly eclipsed by dark, almost black, clouds. Cam peers up at the sky as the wind picks up, whipping away every remaining water droplet on my skin.

“We better get back. Looks like they’re heading in.” He gestures at the boat, everyone scrambling to climb aboard as more thunder rumbles in the distance.

“Yeah, we better hustle.” I slip off the float, dropping down into the water. “I’m helping this time. We don’t want to get stuck out here.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Together, Cam and I swim back to the boat in silence. My mind’s racing, replaying the last few minutes on loop.

Was Cam about to kiss me or was that my imagination running wild?

The first large raindrops plop into the lake and I kick harder and faster. Then the rain really starts, moving quickly from a few drops to hard sheets sloshing down, blurring my vision.

“Come on, Trouble, we’re almost back. We’ve got this,” Cam says, taking over the float fully. I don’t argue with him about the tube, panic starting to creep in. I didn’t realize how far out we were and the motor’s already cranked on the boat. I know Gracelyn won’t let them leave us behind, but I’m still worried.

“Just a few more yards, you’ve got it.” Cam’s calm, soothing voice coaches me along and I relax a teensy bit. “Almost there?—”

Finally, we’re within arm’s reach of the boat and I can catch my breath. My legs ache from kicking so fast and cold rain’s pounding down all around us, the water sluicing down my face into my eyes.

“Good girl,” Cam murmurs into my ear, the low rumble of his words barely audible over the storm. He grips my waist, helping me onto the ladder and I scramble onto the boat, endorphins pumping through me. From the swim, the storm.

But mostly from Cam .

“Well, that came out of nowhere,” Gracelyn shouts over the roar of the motor as Cam and I squish down onto the seat next to her. She throws us a towel and Cam catches it, spreading it over my shoulders first, then his. We huddle together under the towel, wind whipping cold rain into our faces as we speed back to Thunder Creek and reality.