42. Cam

CHAPTER 42

CAM

T he wine picnic was a fail.

Telling Sloane the truth was a fail.

You failed.

And now I have to live with the consequences of my actions. Take the knocks and start getting comfortable with the fact that I’m going down to Florida alone.

Back at the house, I lurch up the stairs, my legs heavier than two lead posts and about as useful. The sun’s sinking down into the lake, but the bright streaks of orange and pink do nothing to boost my mood.

Walking into the closet, I open the top dresser drawer and pull out the black velvet box I squirreled away underneath the neat stack of boxers and T-shirts. I cradle the square box in my palm, sink down onto the edge of the bed and pop the lid.

All four carats of the princess-cut diamond twinkle up at me and my chest squeezes. So hard and tight I can’t breathe.

My sister’s intel was right .

I was going to ask Sloane to marry me, to be my wife.

She’s my everything and I wanted to be with her forever.

And now I’ve lost her.

For good this time.

I let her go once back in high school, and I swore I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

But now I have no choice.

She doesn’t want you.

She’ll never trust you again.

I don’t deserve her, someone that beautiful and sweet. I held her heart in my hand and fumbled it. I may not have cheated on her like she thought, but she’s right.

I wasn’t honest with her, wasn’t man enough to own up to my mistakes. I kept part of myself from her, hoping she’d never find out the truth.

And now we’re done.

Ding-dong.

The doorbell chimes, echoing through the quiet house, and startles me out of my pity party. It’s probably a delivery from Troy, some celebratory bottle of bourbon or something. Maybe a packet of papers from HR I need to sign for. I don’t dare hope it’s Sloane, coming to tell me she forgives me and will take me back.

Shoving the ring into my pocket, I lumber downstairs, the chime dinging again. The delivery must be important.

I freeze at the bottom of the stairs and clutch the railing. I’d love to dash back upstairs, but it’s too late now.

Coach already spotted me through the frosted glass.

Shit.

He’s the last person I want to see right now. I promised him I wouldn’t hurt Sloane and that’s exactly what I did .

After everything he’s done for me, I can only imagine what he’s about to say.

With a deep breath, I open the door. “Coach.”

“Camden. May I?” He tips his head at the house and I nod, holding the door for him. He crosses over the threshold and my gut roils.

There are fewer things I want to do right now than have this conversation. But I owe him that much.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I motion to the fridge, but Coach shakes his head.

“No, thanks. This isn’t a social call.”

“Oh, right.” I lick at the inside of my lip, anxiety churning through me in full-force. “Come on in.”

I walk to the kitchen and Coach follows close behind me in silence. I offer him a stool at the island, but he declines.

“I’m okay.” He removes his hat, clutching the brim with his thick fingers. “Son, respectfully, what the hell were you thinking cheating on Sloane? After you stood in my house and swore to me you wouldn’t hurt my daughter. Then the first chance you get, you sleep around on her? You should be ashamed.” A vein pops in his neck, his knuckles white from the tight grip on his hat.

“It’s not what you think, sir.” I swallow hard, my throat tight and dry. “I didn’t cheat on her. I’d never do that to Sloane.”

“Don’t lie to me, son. She told me all about it.” Coach narrows his eyes at me and I resist the urge to squirm beneath his steely gaze.

Hot shame washes over me. I hate that Coach knows about all of this, that I let him down, too. I have to set the record straight—say the words out loud—because he deserves to know the truth as well .

“Have you talked to her today? Because what Sloane saw was fake.” I take a deep breath, swallow hard over the rock lodged at the back of my throat. “I’m not downplaying my behavior, sir. There is a video—I’m not proud of it and wish I could take it back—but that happened well before I started dating Sloane. Someone altered the date and timestamp on the video and made it look like it happened down in Florida. It didn’t, I promise. I’d never hurt her like that. And I should have told her about the video sooner—I know that now—but I didn’t. Truth is, I’m ashamed. At how I acted, the things I did. I had my reasons at the time, but still—” I rake a hand through my hair, try to keep the wobble out of my voice.

“Son, are you telling me this is the same video from the winter, when you were still in Chicago?”

I jerk my head up. “What?”

“You think I don’t know how to search things up on the internet? You’re a good player, Cam. Teams don’t cut good players for dropping a pass or two.”

“Oh.” My voice drops low and I am humbled.

Coach saw the video.

“Yes, sir. It’s the same video. I didn’t know we were being filmed and I’ve never done anything like that before—and I’m not planning on ever doing something like that again. I set the record straight with Sloane an hour ago, but she’s still upset. She doesn’t trust me.”

Coach taps his hat against his upper thigh, shoves a hand in the pocket of his cargo shorts.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you didn’t do anything to hurt Sloane purposely.”

“I didn’t, sir. I love her. I asked her to move to Florida with me, before all this went down. I was planning on proposing.” My voice catches, despair ripping through me. The ring in my pocket’s suddenly heavier, weighing me down. A glittering reminder of my failure.

“Well, Cam, here’s what I’ll say about it. One—in the future, keep your damn pants on. You’re a professional athlete. That makes you an automatic target for all types of scammers. What you and your friends did, what you engaged in—that was a rookie move.”

I lick my lips and rub my clammy palms on my shorts. “Yes, sir.”

“Two—don’t keep beating yourself up about the video. You paid your penance with the team and now you’re suffering again. You’ve owned up to your mistakes and now it’s time to move on. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“I’ll bet you never made any mistakes like that.”

Coach’s serious face cracks and he lets out a belly laugh, throwing his head back so far I catch a glimpse of the tan line on his neck from his polo shirt.

“Son, I’ve made more than my fair share of mistakes. I do believe you dated my favorite mistake of all.”

Sloane.

“Nobody in this life is perfect. And thank God, or I wouldn’t have my daughter. Sometimes you have to run through the shit before you find out it was manure all along, meant to help your garden grow.

“Sloane is the greatest blessing in my life. If I hadn’t fucked up in high school—excuse my French—she wouldn’t be here today. At the time, I thought my world was ending. But it wasn’t. Sure, it wasn’t my plan. But things rarely go the way we plan. On the field or in life. You have to learn how to read the plays and run with it. One thing I’m always looking for in every player, every single season is adaptability. You have that, Cam. That’s what makes you a great asset to any team. ”

I flex my knuckles, my throat thick.

“Thanks, Coach. I appreciate you saying that.”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, son. You know another thing you have that a lot of players don’t?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Grit. When you got cut in Chicago, you could have plopped down on your sofa eating junk food and watching daytime TV. But you didn’t. You came back here and trained. Took your knocks and made yourself faster, stronger, better. That’s grit, Cam. You didn’t quit, didn’t give up. You fought for what you wanted. And what you wanted was football.”

Tears sting the backs of my eyes, and I fight the surge of emotion swirling in my chest.

“If you want Sloane—and I believe you do, after watching the two of you not-so-covertly sneak around all summer—you need to fight for her. Don’t give up yet. She may take some convincing, but if anyone can make her come around, it’s you.”

“I wish I knew how to do that, Coach. I’ve tried quite a few things, but she won’t even take my calls.”

“Well, I’m not too solid in the love department. But I do know my daughter and I’m sure we can come up with a play or two.”