Chapter 22 Zhuri
twenty-two
Zhuri
Willow—my favorite cafe—on a Saturday at lunch time is a terrible idea.
Clearly, I was thinking with my stomach and not my head, or I would have picked somewhere less crowded for two extremely well-known hockey players.
The hostess walks us through the packed space, and all eyes are on Cameron and me as we follow her to a quiet table at the back.
Well, it’s quiet for now.
I doubt it will stay quiet for long.
The waitress comes by, and we both order water before taking some time to look over our menus.
“I don’t think I’ve been here before,” Cameron says, peering up at me. “What’s good?”
“Depends,” I answer. “During the season? I typically go for a salad. Offseason, though? Their burgers are fucking divine.”
He laughs heartily. “Burger it is then.”
I opt for a regular cheeseburger when the waitress comes back, and Cameron goes for the barbecue bacon burger.
“So,” I say uncomfortably. “What did you think of the shoot?”
He shrugs. “It was fun. I’m interested in seeing how the pictures turned out.”
“Think they’re any good?”
“I do,” he nods. “Everyone seemed happy, so I’m sure they’re great.”
I take a sip of my water. My throat feels so dry right now.
Why am I so uncomfortable? This is just Cameron.
I think I’m just thrown off my game. I haven’t had anybody holding me the way he was at the shoot in I can’t remember how long.
The worst part of it, though, was the fact that it didn’t feel wrong.
It felt right.
I don’t know what to make of that because I’m not even sure we’re friends yet.
“Cameron, are we friends?” I blurt out before cringing.
He tips his head back and laughs. “Do you want to be friends, Zhuri baby?”
I groan. “Forget I even asked.”
Cameron smiles at me softly. “I’d like to consider us friends, if that’s what you want.”
“I do.” I let out a breath. “We could’ve been friends for eleven years now.”
“Maybe we weren’t meant to be friends until now,” he shrugs.
“Are you being optimistic on me, Cameron?”
His smile falters a little bit. “Just… trying something new, I guess.”
“I like that. It’s good to see. How have you been the past couple of weeks?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Not as bad,” he answers, “but my dad hasn’t called either. It’s easier to not let him get to me when we aren’t actually talking.”
“Well, I’m happy you’re doing okay right now.” I smile at him, and the look on his face is pure warmth.
Warmth that I now feel through my entire body.
Cameron takes the hat on his head and flips it backward, and I internally curse him.
Is there anything hotter than a man in a backward hat?
Yes.
A man with tattoos in a backward hat.
His inked forearms flex, and I have to keep from salivating like one of Pavlov’s dogs.
Apparently, I’m not very discreet.
“Are my arms interesting, ljepota?” Cameron chuckles in amusement as heat floods my cheeks.
“Shut up,” I chide, crossing my arms. “I was just looking at your tattoos.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Do you like tattoos?”
“They’re fine,” I shrug.
Fine? I guess that’s one way to say a shirtless man with tattoos is enough to ruin your panties.
“Do you have any?”
“One,” I answer.
His eyes sparkle with interest. “Wanna show me?”
I smirk at him. “Can’t show you it in public.”
Now he really looks interested. “Where did you get a tattoo, Zhuri baby?”
I throw my head back and laugh. “It’s on my hip, dumbass. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Cameron waggles his brows. “My mind lives in the gutter.”
He tries to keep a straight face but eventually fails, causing me to laugh again with him.
Being with Cameron is so easy.
We’ve fully let go of everything that happened between us in the past, and we’re enjoying each other in the present.
And it turns out that I really enjoy being with him.
Tell me how a lunch together after a photoshoot takes so long that it’s practically sunset now.
I don’t have the answer, but that’s where we are, sitting near the lake in City Park as the sun casts the city around us in a golden hue.
“What was it like growing up in Croatia?” I ask, looking over at Cameron.
“Honestly, I loved it,” he replies. “Zagreb is really laid-back, and the city has so much history. It’s a really beautiful place.”
“What was your favorite thing to do there?”
“When I wasn’t on the ice, I was running through the parks if it wasn’t winter. There’s so much green space around the city.”
“It’s so cool that you lived in another country,” I say.
“It was pretty fun,” he smiles. “Now, would you rather go skydiving or scuba diving?”
“Scuba diving,” I reply. “I’m not afraid of heights or anything, but I also don’t have any desire to jump out of an airplane.”
“I’d pick skydiving,” he says. “No way in hell you’re getting me in the water.”
“I guess I could try skydiving instead, then.” He smiles at me, and his stupid dimples pop, making my stupid heart flutter in my chest.
“Would you rather never get to spend time with your family again or never play hockey again?”
“Family,” he answers softly without a second thought. “I love them, and I’d miss them, but I can’t give up hockey.”
I look at him curiously. “Why? You’ll have to retire someday anyway.”
Cameron stares at the grass in front of his feet, avoiding my gaze altogether. “Because hockey is all I have.”
“Cameron…”
“It’s true. The only thing good about me is the fact that I play hockey well. Take that away, and I have nothing left.”
“Cameron,” I say again, this time placing my finger under his chin and forcing him to look at me. “Hockey is not the only good thing about you. You’re a good person, and people enjoy being around you.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “Because I play hockey. Without that, even the puck bunnies go away. I’m nobody if I don’t have hockey.”
“Your self-worth is not tied to how you perform on the ice. You are so much more than a hockey player. You just have to let yourself actually see that.”
“Nobody sees that,” he says lowly.
“I see that. I know we started talking to each other because of the team, but I’m not spending time with you now because you play hockey. I’m spending time with you because you’re my friend, and I genuinely enjoy being with you.”
Cameron rests his clasped hands over his forehead and lies back on the grass. I join him.
“I’m trying to see things like that. I really am. But it’s so fucking hard when my entire life, people have only cared about me because of the sport I play.”
“That’s what you actually think, isn’t it?” I roll on my side to face him. “You’ve said before that you’ll always be considered a fuckboy, and you think that’s because nobody sees you as more than a hockey player down for a good time.”
“You read me like a fucking book,” he breathes before rolling on his side.
Now, we’re practically face-to-face. “The only reason anyone has ever wanted me was hockey. There are so many women who want nothing more than to fuck a hockey player, and because I fit the bill, they’d flock to me, Fuckboy Cameron Kovacic, the man who’s only good for sex. ”
I gently rest my hand on his arm. “But that’s not what you want, is it?”
Cameron shakes his head. “No, but that doesn’t matter.
I let myself indulge when I was younger, and that reputation has followed me ever since.
Even when I was indulging, though, I still always wanted more.
Sure, I like sex, but I wanted a connection with someone, and I never had that.
They’d get their fill of me and be on their way.
No one ever wanted to try to get close to me because why would they?
I was the hockey player they could fuck, and I gave them what they wanted.
I try so fucking hard to shake that reputation, but I can’t.
People see me and want one of two things: hockey or sex.
No one believes that I actually want something more, something deeper. ”
“I do.” He looks at me in surprise, and I give him a soft smile.
“You’re telling me right now that’s what you want, and I believe you.
I’m sorry anyone ever made you feel like that’s all you’re worth because they couldn’t have been more wrong.
You’re worthy of love and companionship if that’s what you want, and you are so much more than a hockey player. ”
“Thank you, Z.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for just throwing all of that at you.”
“Don’t apologize. Never apologize for talking to me when you need it.”
Cameron’s smile is soft and dangerous, one that it would be so easy to lose myself in.
“I’m so glad I’ve gotten to know you, Zhuri.”
“I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you, too, Cameron.”
We lay there in the silence now, listening to the crickets chirping over the distant sounds of cars moving through the city.
Lying here next to him is comfortable. I can’t remember the last time I felt this at peace.
Cameron Kovacic is quickly becoming my favorite person.