Chapter 19 Camden
CAMDEN
It was one of those hits that takes a minute to recover from. Knocked the wind out of me and tweaked my knee. I came down hard on my side, and it laid me out.
Only until I could catch my breath and stand up, walk out the pain in my leg.
The medical staff is extra cautious and made me go for a more thorough examination.
Perform an X-ray of my knee and ankle since I’ve had previous injuries to both, but after I received the okay and got taped up, I went back out onto the field, having missed a few series and a touchdown scored by one of our running backs, Shaun Campbell.
We end up beating Los Angeles by seven points, and adrenaline courses through my veins as I step into the locker room, with the entire team celebrating. It’s a tidal wave of laughter, shouting, sweat, and the sweet high of victory.
We’re on a winning streak, and Coach gives us a short speech, telling us to enjoy it, which earns a few jeers. “Big Dog” Baynard lets out a couple of rough, low barks, and Shaun jumps on top of a pile of linemen, howling, catching a ball tossed to him.
All around me, my teammates make plans, talking about where they’re going and who they’re going with.
Before, I would have been one of them. I’d have found a bar and ordered bottle service.
I would have stayed out until everything closed down and then found someone’s house to head to after. I’d have thoroughly enjoyed it.
Now? I’d rather relax. Watch a movie. Text Nadine.
Ask if she saw the game. Because of course she did.
Ask her if that hit I took looked as bad on television as it felt in real life.
I know she’d respond with something sassy about the way I played, and maybe I’d have the balls to ask if she’d kiss it better when I returned home.
After some rounds of backslaps and rehashing of plays, I head into one of the shower stalls. I let the steam envelop me and wash away all the sweat and grime of the field, checking over my body, glancing at the new scrapes and bruises. A never-ending count.
But god does it feel good to be winning. To know I’m performing exactly how I’m supposed to be. Turning the tide of public perception.
As much as I’d like to pretend it doesn’t bother me, it does. Who doesn’t want to be loved?
I finally feel like the media has moved past the shroud of what happened with my parents and are focused back on me as a player. And without any outstanding antics, I can appreciate what it feels like to be loved simply for doing what I do best.
When I finally emerge from the locker room, changed and with my bag in hand, I run right into Valerie, where she’s waiting in the friends and family area. There aren’t a whole lot because it’s an away game, but occasionally, some family members will travel or friends will meet up to get together.
She is the last person I expect to be here. Smiling at me.
“Hey there, big shot.” She’s dressed in the team colors, a tiny purse over her shoulder, her cell phone in her hand, held up like she might take a picture.
“Hey.” I skirt my gaze around, checking to see if anyone has spotted her or us together. Valerie does have the tendency to call attention to herself even when she’s not trying. Right now, she’s trying.
She steps closer to me, wrapping her arms around my torso. “You played great out there.”
I stiffen, attempting to push her away without pushing her away. “Thanks.”
“What’s wrong?” She pulls back to search my face. As if we didn’t break up. As if everything has been normal for the last two weeks and she didn’t tell me I’d regret it. That I’d come crawling back.
But she’s the one here.
She may live in Los Angeles, but there is no reason for her to be at my game.
Unless she wants to come crawling back.
“I don’t know why you’re here.”
She frowns. “I’m here to see you, obviously.”
She acts cute, crowding my side, sliding her hand over my chest, though I’m not having it, and I step back, putting some distance between us.
“I don’t know what you think is happening here. But it’s not. It’s over,” I say, looking straight in her eyes, and she holds my gaze long enough that I think maybe she’s the one who needs a scan for a concussion.
“Seriously?” Her expression darkens. She’s not confused. She’s simply never been turned down before. “Her?”
Valerie can’t even say her name. She can’t fathom that she’s not the center of the world.
But she is certainly not the center of mine. Not even in the same universe. I shrug, stepping back from her. “Yeah.”
Her face flushes with anger. “After everything we’ve been through? You’re really going to let it go?”
I’m not sure what she’s referring to. We haven’t been through much. I’ve had my life upended in the last six months, but she couldn’t seem to care less.
“We’ve had some fun, but like I said, this isn’t working anymore.”
She huffs an irritated sound, drawing her hand over her ponytail, swinging it over her shoulder, pulling herself together. Drawing the shades down over her emotions. “You’re really going to choose her over me?”
I nod. Without a doubt. “It’s always been her.”
But she doesn’t believe me, so I make sure she understands. “I will always choose her.”
Valerie points her finger at me. “Fuck you, Camden.” Then she turns, shouting it again. “Fuck you!”
All eyes are on her as she stalks away. “You’ll never have it as good with her as you did with me!”
She storms off, the furious click of her heels echoing down the hall, and I exhale, shoving my hand through my hair. Feels like exiting a haunted house at a carnival. Coming down after the jump scare.
Months ago, having one of the most well-known models in the world showing up at my games unannounced to basically stake her claim would have made me proud. Now, I’d rather stick my hand in a meat grinder than deal with her. Deal with the stares of everyone around me.
I avoid the questions thrown my way from teammates and random strangers as I head to the team bus, where I find my usual seat next to Erik. He looks up from his phone when I slouch down. He gets right down to it. “So, you broke up with Valerie, I’m assuming.”
“What gave it away?”
“The stomping and yelling.”
I press my hand to my temple, grunting.
Erik laughs quietly next to me. “Are you expecting a congratulations or commiseration?”
“Neither.”
He types out a quick message, probably to Molly, then pockets his phone. “You done for good?” When I nod, he leans over, lowering his voice. “Can’t say I’m mad over it.” When I hum an agreement, he goes on, “I heard her say something about you being with someone else.”
“I’m not with anyone else.”
“But is there someone else?”
I cross my arms, staring out to the front of the bus, waiting for the rest of the team to file in so I can get the hell out of here. Back to my hotel room and away from my best friend. Because I can’t be honest with him. I can’t tell him that I’ve fallen in love with his sister.
“Yeah,” I eventually concede. “There is someone else.”
“Really?” The surprise in his voice has me turning to meet his curious gaze.
I don’t know why I feel the need to defend myself or my feelings, but the words tumble out before I can stop them. “She’s special.”
“Damn. You’re serious about it.” His humor ceases immediately. “You are serious about it.”
I nod even though it wasn’t a question.
He smiles then. “Good for you, man. I’m happy for you. Finally finding what I’ve been talking about. A good woman settles you down.”
That’s how I feel with Nadine around, settled.
She reminds me that there is so much good in the world. That I can be good.
“I was worried there for a minute,” Erik goes on, fiddling with his earbuds. “Thought you might have something going on with my sister since she’s been at your place so much.”
I stare at him unblinking, but he doesn’t notice as he takes his phone back out to find some reality dating show.
“Because I love you like a brother,” he says, elbowing me as he laughs to himself, putting in his earbuds.
“But my sister is way too good for you.” Then he presses play, gesturing to his phone.
“I gotta catch up so I can talk about it with Moll tomorrow.”
I force a laugh. They watch reality shows together, and maybe if it didn’t feel like he punched me in the throat, I’d find the eccentricities of his marriage sweet.
I don’t.
Not when I’d like to punch him in the dick.
Make Kai an only child.
I know Nadine is too good for me. I don’t need him pointing it out.
But it doesn’t stop me from opening my text thread with her. It’s well after midnight at home, but I send her a message anyway. One I’m hoping shows her that I can be good.
I can be good for her.
I’ll be good to her.
We’re headed back to the hotel now. Not sure if you watched the game or not, but I took a pretty rough hit. Gonna ice and watch a movie.
Shockingly, she answers.
10 Things I Hate About You?
Probably, but I don’t tell her that. I make sure Erik can’t see my phone as I respond.
Why are you still up? You should be in bed.
I am. Just not asleep yet.
I try desperately not to picture her in bed.
Definitely not in my bed.
I did watch the game. How are you feeling?
A little sore. Nothing some rest won’t fix.
You’re not going to go out?
Nope
A minute passes before she messages me again.
I saw Valerie at the game.
I didn’t know she was coming. I didn’t ask her to.
You don’t need to explain it to me.
I do.
We broke up.
Before bye week. When she called
I don’t want to finish the sentence. When she called and basically talked shit about Nadine. Like she did tonight.
I broke up with her then.
I just didn’t know how to tell Nadine. I didn’t want to tell her and have it be a thing between us. Because what if she doesn’t actually care? What if she really does think I’m a piece of shit? She is too good for me, and I’m not sure I’d be able to take it if she ever said it to my face.
It’s why I haven’t been able to confess how I feel.
Why I haven’t been able to face her like a man.
But I can text her. Tell her behind a screen.
She’s not in my life anymore.
Honestly, my feelings changed for her a while ago.
Months ago.
You really don’t need to explain it to me. You don’t owe me anything.
I do.
I owe you everything.
She doesn’t reply, and with everyone finally on the bus, the driver pulls out of the stadium, and I let my head sink back against the rest, unable to put my phone away. Hoping she’ll text me back, but unable to say what I really want to.
Not with her brother laughing about some new bombshell and one of my teammates reminding me of my past. “Yo, Long. You coming out with us?”
“Nah. I’m in for the night.”
JD shouts from the back, “Somebody throw me a sweatshirt. I’m freezing.”
Someone else, “Why?”
“Hell has frozen over.”
Laughter rings out, and I roll my eyes, though I don’t take offense. If some ribbing is what it takes to prove I’m not the man I used to be, I’ll happily take it.
I shoot off one last message to Nadine.
I miss you.