Chapter 6
AJ
This asshole has a death wish, and I’m more than happy to oblige.
I knew who he was as soon as he stepped in our way—I might’ve researched him—but when I heard Cam’s tense voice utter his name, I remembered everything he did to him when they were, gag, together.
With the same scowl I offer defensive linemen in any game, I take one step forward and I’m surprised when Cam doesn’t yank me back. He always tells me to be careful.
“Move,” I growl at Soren, and only scowl harder when he tilts his head back to look at me with idiotic surprise.
“Ex-excuse me?” he stutters, but recovers to act all high and mighty.
“You’re being rude to Cam, and I don’t tolerate rudeness, so move.”
“I wasn’t rude,” he protests, his voice going high-pitched. “I’m just surprised that he’s here because—”
“Because he’s the most successful sports agent in the country?” I interrupt with my voice lower. “Or because he’s so much better looking nowadays? Is it because he still has so many good friends from high school and wants to hang out with them? Is that why you’re surprised?” I demand.
This time, Cam does pull me back, and I let him.
He gives me a look I can’t decipher, since I’ve never seen it before, but it looks close enough to his “pissed as hell” look that I keep my mouth shut.
He doesn’t even spare Soren a single glance, so I don’t have much to say, not really.
He’s probably mad, I think, and yeah, even my thoughts are sulking as he drags me over to where we were trying to go all along—the bar.
It’s moments like these I miss the times when I drank.
I mean, I never drank too much, and the hangover the next day or general tiredness is the reason why I gave it up completely, but I feel like a stiff drink would be just the thing right now.
The nerves that began to plague me the second Cam took my hand mere minutes ago come back to life with a vengeance when he stops in front of three guys.
Two are taller than me, kind of like Cam I’d say, and the other one’s about my height, so naturally we’re taller than almost everybody else around here.
I wonder briefly where Caden is, if he changed his mind after all like Cam told me he might, but even the memory of Cam’s friend disappears when he pulls me forward and I’m faced with three very smiley men.
“AJ, these are my old teammates, Shane Bailey, Ray Barker, and Dale Rivers.” He points at them one by one, and since he didn’t let go of my hand, I don’t let go of his while I give them all handshakes.
“Nice to meet you.” And since it really is, I’m no longer scowling.
“Man, it’s great to meet you too,” Shane says, and I force my smile to stay still when his eyes shift down to our hands. “I’m a big fan,” is all he says, though, and I’m glad we don’t have to start explaining everything right now.
“Thanks,” I tell him with a nod, mostly because it’s what I always say when someone says they’re a fan—I don’t know what else I could say to that.
“So what did you guys get?” Dale asks, and thankfully I’m not the only one confused this time—that happens sometimes.
“What do you mean, what did we get?” Cam asks, his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.
“The food thing,” Dale insists, and shows Cam a piece of paper that says meat. “You’re supposed to find the person who has the other half of yours. I’m guessing mine is loaf.”
That would make sense. Man I’d kill for Mom’s meatloaf right about now.
“Oh, well, uh,” Cam stutters and his hand twitches in mine.
I squeeze once so he remembers I’m here and I’ve got his back.
Though considering what just happened, maybe he’d rather forget I’m here, or that he’s here .
. . that we’re here. That one’s for sure.
“The woman at the entrance was blinded by adoration for AJ, so I guess she forgot to give them to us.” He shrugs.
“It’s fine. We’re here to chat with you guys anyway. ”
And so the catching up begins. I pay more attention to what Cam does than to anything anyone says, and I’m glad to see his shoulders drop and how his chest puffs out when he takes a deep breath.
He’s relaxing, and that’s all I want for him—to have a good time this weekend, feel good about himself and the life he’s led, and to be more confident in what the future holds.
So I stay quiet, smile at Cam’s friends, and just enjoy being here as much as I can . . .
I know I’m being watched.
I’m not sure if this feeling is just from the confrontation with Soren, but I don’t think so.
I’ve talked about it with a few other famous guys, and when you become someone people recognize, you very quickly develop this sixth sense that tells you when people are watching you.
Sadly, that sixth sense is no help in the paparazzi department, as evidenced by the pictures of me with some of my girlfriends on vacation.
But just in case, I peel my fingers loose from Cam’s grip—which has gone slack thankfully—and put my arm around his waist.
It feels foreign and . . . funny, but I try my best to make it seem as natural as possible, and all the while I focus on Cam’s face as if it’s the most interesting thing I’ve seen in all my life.
It’s not bad as far as faces go . . . He’s got high cheekbones, and the way his nose is just slightly crooked makes it . . . yeah, interesting.
A clap on my shoulder puts me on alert instantly, but when I turn around—and up—and see Caden’s tense smile, I relax.
Damn, everyone here is way more nervous than they were at my ten-year high school reunion.
I greet him with a half hug, and realize it’s the first time I’ve let go of Cam in a while when my arm feels too cold all of a sudden.
“How are you?” I ask him quietly.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he says, voice short. He doesn’t seem to be doing so great, but he goes on to greet Cam—and they also exchange some words I can’t quite make out—and after greeting the rest of the guys, Caden makes a quick exit and tells us he’s going to the bar where the next event is happening.
Okay, then.
That’s not the Caden I’ve gotten to know in the last few years, and damn, I hope he gets to exorcise some of his demons just like I’m hoping Cam gets over that stupid asshole, Soren.
Man, how dare he? Seriously, now that a little while has passed, I just can’t understand the fucking audacity.
If he comes up to us again, I’m gonna have to rein myself in, I know that, and I am grateful that Cam pulled me away from him, but dammit, it’s not fair.
Cam should never have been in the position to doubt coming to this thing.
He never should’ve needed my support here, but it’s all Soren’s fault, and I’m not going to let him ruin the rest of the fucking weekend—or the rest of Cam’s life.
Timbers & Tallboys is already pretty packed even though this portion of the evening—according to the weekend program I found in a table back at the school—isn’t supposed to start for another two hours.
Cam and all his friends wanted to come over now, though, and I’m freaking glad. The “icebreaker” and “informal mingling” felt a bit too . . . formal, and being around more people in a smaller space means there are less people looking at me.
The bar is a lot more chill, and I think people look happier to be here. It’s full of emotions but . . . better ones.
Caden is nowhere to be seen, and when I ask Cam about it, he only shrugs, and that’s the first clue that something isn’t right.
He hasn’t really talked to me, and I . . .
Well, he’s probably given me a lot of clues, which I’ve missed, but now that I’m caught up, I test things out and grab his hand.
He goes stiff all over for a second but then relaxes his fingers and grips me back.
It’s forced, though.
I can tell it’s forced and that just won’t do.
“Are you okay?” I lean in right by his ear so no one will hear.
“I need some air,” he croaks out, so without thinking about it, I pull him back and smile at his friends who are reliving what I’m sure was only one of many amazing basketball games from way back.
“We’ll be back in a few,” I tell them, and then turn around.
People make way for us, and yeah, they might stare, but we’re two big guys and I choose to believe that’s why.
I drag Cam around the corner to the side of the buildings, and take one step back away from him when he leans against the wall and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.
I have no way of knowing if he needs space from me or from everyone else—maybe both? And before I can ask, he starts chuckling softly.
It doesn’t sound too happy, though.
“This is so fucking stupid,” he says. And I know he’s talking to himself because he just keeps going.
“I shouldn’t fucking care.” He hisses that last word, then his face contorts into a painful grimace, and I can’t stay back anymore.
Even if I did do something to upset him, I can’t just stand by and watch him beat himself up over this.
“What you should or shouldn’t do isn’t important here, Cam.” His dark eyes snap to me and I can tell my words aren’t really getting through to him. “Cam, you’re allowed to not feel awesome all the time.”
He scoffs and shakes his head at that.
“You do.”
“No I don’t,” I protest, but he keeps shaking his head, so I press on.
“I don’t, Cam. I was really fucking angry when that asshole came up to us.
That’s not awesome. I was also nervous as hell when we were walking into that gym.
I don’t want to embarrass you. I could say something stupid any second and people would know—”
“You never say anything stupid!” he snaps and pushes away from the wall and walks right up to me. “You’re not stupid and nothing you ever say or think is stupid, okay?”
I know he’s wrong.
“Enough people have said that about me to make it very clear that sometimes I do say stupid shit.”