Chapter 4

Asher Cameron

Gerald Duncan can look you straight in the eye and tell you how much he likes you five minutes after a one-hour dump session about you with someone else, namely Nurse Wilson from the Health Office.

Between his never-ending complaints about how no one takes his drama class seriously and Nurse Wilson's less-than-desirable management of student health records, they manage to have something to say about every single person in Linksfield.

They have outside sources too, like Deliah from the General Store in town, who feeds their insatiable desire for gossip. It's even worse now that Deliah is a conservative campaigner for the elections in November and is extra interested in everybody's lives.

I usually try to stay away from them at all costs. Gerald waves at me now from across the football field. Fuck.

I wave back politely, praying the whole time that he doesn't come over to this side of the field.

Guess what?

"Hey, Asher. Good weekend?"

I fix my eyes on the large sign ahead of me sprawled across the administration block that says LINKSFIELD HIGH SCHOOL, wishing for one moment that I had chosen a different career. If it meant not talking to Gerald Duncan ever again, I would've chosen any other way to make a living. "Yeah. Good, Gerald. Yours?"

"It was alright. Alright, I guess. You heard we're finally putting in a plaque of the ten commandments in the main office? Order came straight from the top."

"Hmm."

Iowa is a swing state, which means it's always advisable to be cautious when religious decisions are made in the name of national wellbeing. Enforced religious views usually mean trouble for people like me, and I will never give Gerald the satisfaction of entertaining his political debates no matter how much he goads me.

"Hope you make it to some of the debates happenin' over the next few months. Some of 'em right here at school. Make sure you come, Cameron."

"Hmm." No. I won't be coming to listen to people talk about the bible and God's laws as part of their election campaign. I check the time on my phone. Three-fifteen. "Number twelve," I call out to my quarterback, and Linksfield High's team captain.

Sam Garcia jogs up to me from where he and the boys are getting ready for spring season practice. "I'm out early today, remember? Keep things going and I'll see you all tomorrow, alright?"

Sam grins. "Hot date with your man?"

I roll my eyes and kick him sideways, shoving my foot into the back of his knee. All two hundred pounds fall half to the ground, and I chuckle. "Didn't see that comin', huh?"

He laughs and jogs backwards. "You always say sometimes we have to stay and fight, and sometimes we have to walk away. This is me walking away, Coach. I'll get you next time."

I shake my head, laughing. "Take care of the guys. I'm leaving."

"You got it." Sam heads back to the field, yelling, "Drill time."

Watching the guys on the field reminds me of my high school days. The dreams I had for my future. The exhilaration of winning a game. The roar of the crowd. I had so many people in the stands cheering for me, but the one who mattered the most had been Reece Carter.

Reece's father was there too. He attended every game. He helped me and my parents with applications to colleges I was considering. He never supported Reece in anything, but he always bragged about how his housekeeper's son was a star.

Now, I realize it was all just good promo for the big construction magnate, doing charity work so the local government would hand him contracts. If I could get through college football and then to the NFL, he could claim all the credit.

All Buddy Carter wanted was a poor poster boy to show people how much he could do for the community. All I wanted was his son.

And then it all went up in flames.

I don't regret walking away from it all. If the only way to the NFL was to remain under Reece's father's thumb, then I wanted no part in it. I never wanted Reece to be so subjected to his father either, but I was too young to stop any of it. My parents, too helpless against the giant.

"Hot date?"

Shit. I forgot all about this asshole.

"Sam's just teasing. I've just got a couple of things to do this afternoon."

"Yeah? Like what?"

I'm seeing my ex-best friend who also happens to be the person I fucked for one solid year in high school, and who I cried over for four or five years after that. I don't tell Gerald any of that, obviously, because the whole of Linksfield would know about it by three-thirty.

"Yeah. Anyway, see you tomorrow, Gerald."

He scowls. For a straight man who wouldn't even talk to me the first year I got here because he didn't want to ‘tempt me' (lol), he sure has a lot of questions about my and Sawyer's personal life sometimes.

I leave him and his screwed-up face and head for the parking lot, waving goodbye to Ms. Martinez, the history teacher.

"See ya tomorrow, Cameron," Principal Watson calls from inside his Hyundai.

Mr. Patel – Abdul – the English teacher, falls in step with me. We parked next to each other today. "Did that fucking drama queen have shit to say about me today?" he asks.

I laugh. "Not today."

We reach our cars. Abdul unlocks his and puts his hands on the hood. "If he doesn't get his rehearsal schedule right this year for his production, I'm going to kill him, I swear to God."

"Which God?" I laugh harder. According to Gerald, a devout Catholic, his God is sending Abdul to hell and according to Abdul, the one going to hell is Gerald.

"Shut up, Cameron. You're no help. I'm going home."

"See you tomorrow, Patel."

I stop at Al's Diner for a takeaway double cheeseburger and fries for Sawyer. Al's sick, so his son, Jay, serves me. "Can't wait for the championships, Coach," Jay says.

"Me too." I grin, almost tasting that victory even though it's months away. November feels like a long way away, but we all know how fast time flies in Linksfield when it comes to high school football.

"Say hi to Sawyer for me," Jay says, handing me a brown paper bag.

"Sure will."

It's just past three-thirty when I arrive at the woodlot where Sawyer works. I text him to let him know I'm parked behind the company trucks at the back of the parking lot.

Five minutes later, I spot my husband making his way across the lot. Still, even after all these years, my heart skips when I look at him. He's dirty – dusty jeans, size eleven steel-tipped boots with mud sticking to the sides, and a blue work shirt that has seen better days. I love him the most, and am most grateful for him, when I see him like this. Hardworking. Simple. Humble.

And gorgeous. All six feet of him.

Sawyer is a beautiful man. Rugged in his features. Overgrown black hair. Soft, sweet brown eyes and a permanent two-day stubble riding his slim jaw and cheeks. He's shorter than me only by an inch or two but he's just so fuckin' muscled. Much more than me. I can't believe sometimes that I get to sleep next to him every night.

Now, he's got his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and he's wiping his hands with a washcloth. He's stopped by several of his colleagues who seem to want to just fuck around for a minute or two, but Sawyer isn't having any of it. He jogs the rest of the way, and I get out of the car to greet him.

"Hey, baby," he says when he reaches me.

"Hey."

He stands back for a minute to shake off some dust from his hair. "Sorry, babe. I'm so fuckin' dirty."

I cast a glance around to make sure we're adequately shielded from the rest of his colleagues. "Fuck the dirt, baby. Come here," I say, pulling him to me.

He comes, tilting his head slightly to kiss me. "You nervous?"

"Yeah," I admit.

"It'll be okay. I promise."

I press my lips to his, wondering how my husband can promise that meeting my ex-boyfriend after more than ten years will be okay. "I love you, Sawyer," I whisper. "And if you tell me to back out, I'll back out. If any of this makes you uneasy, just say the word, baby."

Sawyer rests his forehead against mine. "I love you too. And no, I'm not uneasy about anything. I'll go see Pippin after work. I'll come home in time for dinner, like we discussed. You need me anytime before that, just call or text, okay?"

"Okay." I press my lips to his one more time. "I brought you food."

He grins. "Awesome."

Fifteen minutes later, I let myself into the cottage that I share with Sawyer on the edge of town.

Now that my work day is over, I can absorb the reality of my current situation. I'll see Reece Carter in a few hours.

I considered telling my mother about his visit. She would want to see him. Sawyer said to wait until after Reece's visit. See how I feel first. I love him so much. He said this was necessary – seeing Reece. Things like this can't be left unresolved forever.

Now, I look around our home, reminding myself that resolving things won't change anything, anyway. Sawyer and I have built a good life together.

Our house is nice. One bedroom downstairs with a bathroom. Open plan living room and kitchen. Upstairs, one bedroom, bathroom and a study. No one uses the study. I pick up the latest wood carving Sawyer made – a hummingbird. Having a husband who chops down trees for a living, and who is a man of the earth, having wood carvings all about the house is one of its perks.

My fingers trace along the shape of the bird in my hand. He's so talented. I set the bird back onto the mantle.

Yes. We have a good life together and I won't change the way my life turned out for anything. Sawyer is my life and I won't give him up for anything – anyone – in this world. He knows every part of me and I know every part of him, and Reece's visit won't change anything.