Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
Camden
“Thank you, Louis. Thank you so, so much.”
My agent laughs on the other end. “You deserve it, kid. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
I slump back in my driver’s seat when he hangs up, letting my skull thud against the headrest while I mentally replay the conversation I just had. Which might be the best news I’ve heard in my entire life.
Because Louis said there’s no world where I’m not playing in the NHL next season.
Well, maybe the AHL to start, but either way, it’s a step toward the future that I’ve been dreaming of. The one I wasn’t certain was possible after what happened earlier this school year.
Part of me feels like the past ten minutes on the phone with him was nothing more than a fever dream or a figment of my overtired imagination. And yet, as I stare at my phone, seeing the text where he asked me to call him, I know it’s real.
I’m getting drafted.
I don’t exactly know how it all works between agents and scouts and team GMs, but I do know I trust Louis.
I trust that he wouldn’t tell me something like this without certainty.
So when he says there’s talk of me being drafted in the first two rounds, especially after the way I performed in the conference tournament this past week, I’m inclined to believe him.
And if that’s not enough—which it should be, considering goalies never go that early—then his closing comments really sealed the fucking deal.
“I haven’t heard any more concerns about adding you to a roster, Camden. It’s like this whole video nonsense never even happened.”
The amount of relief I felt when those words came out? Fuck, I can’t even describe it.
Needless to say, I’m on a goddamn high from knowing my future is well within reach as I head inside the townhouse.
More than anything, I’m excited to relay all of this to Logan.
Because, in part, this is his win too. He’s put just as much into helping me achieve this, even if it meant putting aside his own grievances with his name.
And it was all worth it.
I hear him talking as I climb the stairs toward our rooms—more than attuned to the sound of his voice these days—but when I reach the landing, I catch a second voice in the mix. Bailey’s, I quickly realize.
I’m about to pass by, planning to let him talk to his best friend while I drop off my bag in my room, until I hear my name mentioned, and my feet become rooted in place outside his door.
“I understand how you got caught up in this thing with Camden, especially if the sex is good, but you’ve been in love with Lexi for as long as I’ve known you. No matter how confusing this might seem right now, that’s gotta count for something.”
Nausea causes my stomach to churn, all of the excitement from moments ago evaporating into thin air. And somewhere inside me, I know I should move. Leave. Walk away, instead of listening to whatever comes next.
And yet, my feet are stuck in quicksand, and I’m sinking.
Sinking…
Sink—
“I know you’re right,” Logan admits, only for Bailey to immediately ask, “Then what are you gonna do?”
My eyes slide closed, anticipating the worst. Waiting for him to say—
“I wish I fucking knew.”
Those five simple words sever every vein and artery in my body, and even as I’d prepared for them—for something even worse—they still leave me bleeding out internally on the floor outside his bedroom.
I gather my wits and my mangled heart as quickly as I can, dragging my corpse to the safety of my room while my throat threatens to close in on itself. Breathing is nearly impossible by the time I’m inside, gently closing the door behind me and dropping my duffle to the floor.
Somehow, I make it to the foot of my bed, the mattress dipping with my weight as I grapple with what I overheard, not quite believing it, but knowing it’s true all the same. And it’s not the part about me that stands out.
“You’ve been in love with Lexi for as long as I’ve known you.”
My teeth sink into my cheek, hard enough to taste blood, as the sentence replays in my mind over and over and over again. And each time, it shreds something inside me a little more. Because it can’t be true.
Can it?
A thousand questions run though my mind as I attempt to analyze every moment, every interaction. Every fucking minute I’ve seen the two of them together filters through my mind, searching for the evidence of what I so clearly missed.
Sure, Logan was texting her a lot while she was back in Portland, presumably to check in after the breakup, but I did the same thing.
I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now, I’m questioning everything.
And the more I sit here and puzzle it together, the more it makes sense, pieces all snapping into place.
How he rushed to her aid the second he found out Wyatt was no longer in the picture.
The way he was holding her when I came downstairs after it happened.
The way he avoided being at the house as much as possible in the early days of our fake dating arrangement.
Fuck, going all the way back to the first goddamn kiss, that day we came to the agreement, it’s clear as day.
“You’ve been in love with Lexi for as long as I’ve known you.”
“You got caught up in this thing with Camden.”
Bailey’s words ring in my head in a chorus, echoing off the distant recesses of my mind, only to pair with another voice.
“You’re not a night or two. Not to me.”
And for the life of me, I don’t know what’s true. What to believe. Or rather, I don’t want to admit how damning the evidence is, because it all points to him loving her.
And I’m just…
I wince, unable to think the words without wanting to break down on the spot.
The only thing pointing to the contrary is currently sitting safely in my desk drawer, and while I thought that piece of sketchpaper, covered in black ink, counted for something, I’m not so sure anymore.
My fingers rake through my hair as my eyes sink closed, struggling to keep my emotions at bay. Struggling to comprehend how we ended up here.
But I should’ve known.
I should’ve realized I was right these past few weeks: This was too good to be true.
I’m so fucking stupid.
A shard of glass may as well be stuck in my throat at the thought; the fragment stabbing muscle with every swallow, slicing cartilage with each inhale. But I breathe through the pain, through the agony, through the eviscerating anguish of being played for such an idiot. A goddamn fool.
And by the person who taught me I’m anything but.
The sound of my doorknob twisting pulls me from my misery, only for the feeling in my chest to get infinitely worse when it creaks open, and the source of my heartache appears on the other side.
He looks surprised to see me, despite this being my room he’s walked into, which only serves to add to the spiral of confusion I’m currently falling down.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you get home,” he says, letting the door fall closed behind him. “I was coming in here to wait for you.”
I paste on a smile, despite feeling like I’m dying inside, while he crosses over to my bed and drops down on it beside me.
“Uh, yeah. Basically just got here, so I guess I beat you to it,” I tell him, somehow managing to keep my voice steady.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to mention his conversation with Bailey, but for some reason, the damn thing knots up every time I try to speak. So instead, I make a feeble attempt at small talk.
“You get up to anything interesting while I was gone?”
He shakes his head, only for a little smirk to appear as he knocks my shoulder. “Boring weekend here, apart from the girls dragging me in for a rom-com marathon.”
Mention of Lexi nearly has me losing my lunch, and all those thoughts from only minutes ago come storming back into my mind with a vengeance. “You certainly had a killer one, though. I mean, I know I don’t know a lot about hockey, but two shutouts in the conference finals sounds really impress—”
“I think it’s time we call it quits with this whole fake relationship thing.”
The words leave my mouth before I can even weigh the pros and cons of them, and their bitter taste causes my stomach to revolt. The nauseous feeling only gets worse when I finally look at him, noting the confusion in those cracked-clay irises.
“O-okay,” he says slowly, brows knitting together. “Can I…ask why?”
Because I’m in love with you…and you’re in love with her.
I don’t say it, though, and not because admitting those words aloud would mean admitting to eavesdropping on him. I don’t care about that. I just want to walk away from this with some shred of dignity left.
And I wanna do it before he can break my heart any more than he already has.
“I, uh… I just talked to Louis on my way home, and he said all the crap from the video is in the rearview now. Managers aren’t concerned anymore, and thanks to how well I’ve been playing, I’m actually projected to go pretty high up in the draft. Higher than normal for a goalie.”
I rub my palms on my pants, feeling my composure starting to slip as his face begins to fall, so I look away and rush to get the rest out.
“I know we said it was smarter to wait until June, after the draft, but I don’t really see the need now. We accomplished what we needed to on my end, and your parents have been pretty chill, right? Not on your ass as much?”
Though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t stop my gaze from lifting to him, watching as he blinks rapidly and stumbles through his thoughts before answering.
“I, uh…yeah. Right. They have been.”
My teeth grind together at the lie, hard enough to crack a molar, but it’s my heart that shatters in my chest from knowing it’s a lie in the first place. And as much as I want to hate him for it, I can’t. It’s my own fault for not seeing the truth.
For believing him when he said I could never just be a night or two to him.
“So we’re in agreement, then?” I rasp, the words jagged and raw as they leave me.