8. Cam

CHAPTER 8

CAM

I haven’t been to a bonfire out at the lake in years, probably since the summer after graduation. When Sloane asked me to go with her tonight, my gut response was ‘Pass.’ The last thing I want to do is go hang out with my old buddies and shoot the breeze, answering a million and one questions about my career that’s teetering on the line. But she looked so hopeful and enthusiastic about the damn thing, I didn’t have it in me to let her down.

So now we’re bumping along the red dirt road that leads to the lake in my Rover, rust-colored dust swirling in tiny cyclones even though I’m barely hitting twenty miles per hour. Sloane’s window is rolled down, one arm slung out the window, and she’s singing at the top of her lungs to some shitty pop song I’ve never heard. If it were anyone else, I would veto the terrible music selection, but she’s so cute sitting in the passenger seat with her head thrown back, not a care in the world.

I wonder what that’s like, not caring. The only time I ever have that sensation is right after a win. The rest of the time, I’m wound tight with anxiety, like one of those rubber band balls people keep on their desks. Worry wrapped around worry, pressure and tension holding everything together.

Not Sloane.

Her face is relaxed, fingers tapping on her thigh to the quick beat of the song. Her hair’s blowing in the breeze, dark strands flying around her tanned, bare shoulders. She glances over at me, the corners of her pink lips tipping into a slow smile.

“What?” she asks, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about the last time I was out here. Had to be the summer after graduation.”

“Probably. The night Nick swam across the lake naked?”

I chuckle, picturing my buddy Nick’s ghost-white ass bobbing in the dark water.

“Then Brayden shouted at him about gators and he totally freaked.” Sloane shakes her head. “That was a dick move. Nick almost had a panic attack. I don’t think the guy’s been back in the lake since.”

“I mean, Brayden probably wasn’t wrong. I’m sure there are gators in the lake. Not the brightest idea to swim across at midnight buck naked. Especially drunk.”

“Yeah, we were dumb kids back then.” Sloane’s gaze drifts out the window as the water comes into view, golden rays of the sunset shimmering on the flat surface of the lake.

I pull the Rover up next to a black pickup and throw the vehicle into park, joining the neat line of cars—at least twenty so far and counting .

The knot of anxiety in my gut tightens as I take in the gathering crowd and I inhale a deep breath.

I can do this.

So what if I got cut. I’m between teams right now, waiting to hear back on the next great opportunity.

What that opportunity will be and where it will take place, I’m not sure, but that’s the line I’m running with all night.

“Hey, you okay?” Sloane squeezes my forearm and I relax my grip on the wheel, focus on the touch of her delicate fingers against my skin.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I inhale, long and slow, then exhale a tiny bit of anxiety.

Thump, thump, thump.

The entire vehicle shakes and I scowl, glancing out the windshield at Nick’s sunburned face pressed against the glass. He’s grinning at us, screwing up his mouth and sticking out his tongue. Classic Nick. Clearly hasn’t matured much in the last decade.

“What’s up, big man?” Nick pounds his huge hands on the windshield and I hop out, eager to get him and his body off my car. He’s no longer a seventeen-year-old athlete at the top of his game; now he’s tiptoeing into his thirties with a few extra pounds on his already-large defensive back frame.

“What’s up, Nick?” I smack my palm against his and we bro hug. A few seconds later, Sloane swings around to meet us.

“Hey, sugar.” Nick bends down, wrapping Sloane in a tight squeeze and lifting her off the ground, and a sharp twinge of jealousy pings through me.

Stop it, Crawford. You have no hold on her; it’s not like you can call dibs .

Nick drops Sloane’s feet back to the ground and I relax, shoving a hand in my pocket.

“Guys, look who Sloane brought with her!” He spins around to the group, announcing my presence and every muscle in my body contracts.

So much for relaxation.

Immediately, almost everyone sitting around the bonfire jumps up and runs over, swarming Sloane and me. There’s a flurry of hugs and hellos and how-you-beens and I’m already over it, wondering how soon I can leave.

“Give the guy some breathing room. C’mon, y’all, let’s grab a beverage.” Nick grabs my arm and I instinctively take Sloane’s hand, pulling us out of the overwhelming circle of people.

Her hand is soft and warm in mine, grounding me in this moment. She smiles over at me and the knot loosens a touch more as we head over to the bonfire already roaring near the lake.

The sun’s almost all the way down now, sinking into the water, the last few lingering rays of light swallowed up by the night. Cicadas hum in the distance over the rhythmic splash of water lapping against the shore. Without the blaze of the sun, the air temp drops a degree or two, but it’s still muggy as hell. No-see-ums buzz around my head and I swat at my neck, trying to bat them away.

Nick reaches into a cooler and tosses a beer in my direction. I gratefully pop the top and take a long chug while he runs through the various drink options with Sloane. Someone cranks up the music on a portable speaker, the bass so loud the ground vibrates. Clumps of people stand around in circles, some at the edge of the lake, others clustered around the fire. Orange and red flames flicker against the darkening sky, the heavy scent of woodsmoke tickling my nose.

“How ya been, Crawford? Long time, no see.” Nick elbows me before plopping down in a folding chair and crossing one leg over his knee, ready to hold court.

“Fine, man. Good.” I let Sloane take the seat next to Nick before sinking down into the chair beside her. She sips at her drink, totally at home out here, with these people. Basically, the exact opposite of me, all wound up and edgy. I’ve been gone for so long, I don’t know how to fit in anymore. Sloane’s always been more at ease and it seems like she hasn’t skipped a beat.

“When did you get to town? I’m kinda hurt you didn’t call.” Nick gives me his best sad puppy dog expression and my apprehension rockets up. I fiddle with the aluminum pop top on my beer; I don’t particularly feel like playing Twenty Questions.

“Only yesterday. I figured I’d be seeing everyone out here tonight. Of course I was going to call. But hey—now I don’t have to, right?” I shoot him a sideways glance and his face breaks into a grin.

“Right! You still up in Chicago?” He tips his beer back, shooting the rest of the drink.

“Nah. I’m a free agent right now.”

“Wow. Well, shit. That sucks.”

I shrug. “Should be fine. My agent’s working on negotiations with a few teams.” I let the half-truth roll off my tongue, smooth as whiskey. “What’ve you been up to?”

Changing the topic of conversation, I nod in all the right places at Nick’s long-winded resume, trying to seem invested. I fully lose interest once he starts talking about the various types of insurance he sells, my attention drifting to Sloane instead. The glow from the fire highlights her high cheekbones, the cinnamon freckles splashed across her nose, and I wish we were alone right now.

I’ve thought of her off and on over the year—what she was up to, where she was and who she was with. But there was never a right time to reach out and try to reconnect. I was always busy—playing, training, traveling. I had no time for anything outside of football. And definitely not pursuing any kind of romantic relationship.

You have nothing but time now.

The thought’s unsettling, yet somehow sort of appealing.

Now that I’m back here in her orbit, I wonder what she’s like as a woman. Is she the same sweet, funny girl, with the goofy sense of humor that had me laughing so hard my abs cramped? Does she still eat Skittles sorted by color, unceremoniously chucking all the purple ones into the trash because she thinks they taste like allergy medicine? Is she still the good girl she was back in high school? So innocent that when Nick asked her what a 69 was, she immediately checked the grading scale posted on the classroom wall and said a ‘D’?

I want to find out.

Would love to touch her, taste her, feel her body beneath me.

“Crawford, you in?”

“Huh?” I snap back to reality, Nick nudging my knee.

“All of us going out on the lake tomorrow. I’ve got a sweet boat, a Pathfinder. And of course, it’s insured out the wazoo.” He chuckles at his dumb joke. “We can do some fishing, the ladies can float out at the sandbar. It’ll be real fun.”

“Uh—” I glance over at Sloane, the default social planner, and she shrugs .

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

“Great. Hey—Frisco! Over here!” Nick shoots his arm up in the air and another high school buddy and ball player from our class waves before heading over with a bunch of people.

There must be at least fifteen of them and soon everyone’s jammed around us, pinning me in. The air’s hot and stifling and my chest tightens. I stand to get more oxygen into my lungs as faces I vaguely recognize stop to chat me up, ask about playing pro ball. A petite brunette requests a selfie with me and inwardly I wince. But she pushes her hip against mine and leans in close, arm outstretched to take the photo, so I grin and bear it. The bright flash blinds me for a second, and when my eyes adjust to the darkness the group’s somehow multiplied.

I’m surrounded by a flock of women, all asking for photos. I nod and smile, taking pictures with each of them. Nick’s nearby, chatting one of the ladies up, and I overhear him inviting her and her friends out on the boat tomorrow.

Where’s Sloane? I swivel around, searching for her, but she’s nowhere to be found.

“Hey, Camden.” I turn toward the sultry voice. “It’s me, Jamie.”

I do a double take as I stare at the tall redhead standing in front of me, hand on hip. She seems familiar, but I can’t quite place her.

“Tenth-grade homecoming date. Remember?”

“Oh hey, how are you?” I nod in her direction, but she comes in for a hug, pressing her large breasts against my torso. I pat her awkwardly on her back, right between her prominent shoulder blades.

“I’m great. Better now that you’re here. You back in town for good?” She pulls away slightly, batting her long fringe of lashes at me.

“No, only for the summer.”

“Aww, too bad.” Popping her lips out in a glossy pout, I wonder how much filler she’s pumped into them.

“Guess we’ll have to make the most of it.” She splays her palm wide on my chest, running her hand over my pecs. The gesture’s so intimate, so bold and brash from someone I haven’t seen in over a decade. My jaw locks tight, every muscle in my body clenching, and I desperately want to get out of here. I have no interest in rekindling a relationship with a woman I haven’t thought about since high school.

“Yeah, sure. Listen—I need to find someone. Great to see you, Jamie.” I inch away from her and a flash of disappointment crosses her face, her brows furrowing as much as they’re able.

“Let me guess. Sloane?”

“Yeah. I’m her ride.”

Jamie rolls her eyes. “Of course you are.”

I don’t bother diving into the dig, giving it more airtime than it deserves. “Catch you around.”

Spinning on my heel, I rush away from her and the rest of the gang huddled around the bonfire. The music pumps louder, and my temples throb. Sweat beads on my lower back and I long for air-conditioned peace and quiet.

Unfortunately, I can’t cut and run just yet. Not without Sloane.