Chapter 21 Camden
CAMDEN
“Listen up.” Coach’s voice cuts through the post-practice noise, low and commanding enough to make even the rookies shut the hell up.
He stands in the center of the locker room, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“I know how bad everyone needs this bye week.”
Agreements are heard throughout the room. Everyone’s ready for a few extra days off.
“We’re tired. We’re banged up and half of you are running on adrenaline and whatever the trainers are taping you together with.” He turns and smiles at his younger brother, who’s had a hell of a season. “I’m looking at you, Callen.”
“I get it. I’ve been there. But before we all disappear for a few days of bad decisions, I need one more thing.” All joking drops from his voice. “The Kings Foundation tree lighting ceremony is tonight and I expect every one of you there. No excuses.”
A low wave of groans ripples through the locker room and a muscle in Coach’s jaw ticks.
“You show up. Smile for the cameras. Shake a few hands and make a few kids happy. Remember—this foundation funds the youth programs that keep kids off the streets. Your support matters, men.”
Silence follows until slowly, a chorus of resigned Yeah, Coach and You got it’s are echoed.
I don’t say a damn word.
My shoulder’s screaming and my body’s wrecked. All I wanted was to spend the night with Sophie, and maybe steal a quiet moment with Holly before she goes back to hiding from me. Not stand around pretending to be the poster boy for holiday fucking cheer.
Coach looks right at me and a smug grin spreads across his face. “Bring the baby, Monroe.”
Maverick tosses his keys in the air, smiling like a cocky asshole. “Emmie and Rosie are coming. You should bring Holly and Sophie. Make a family night of it, brother.”
Before I can tell him to fuck off, Luke pipes up from his locker, snickering. “Holly would love that. You know her birthday’s Christmas Eve, right? She was basically born obsessed with all things Christmas.”
I stop mid-motion, my hand tightening around the strap of my gym bag. Her birthday is Christmas Eve? She hadn’t mentioned that. Of course she hadn’t. She’s been too busy making it special for Sophie to worry about herself.
“Yeah,” I manage, keeping my tone casual. Does it make me a dick if I don’t’ know her birthday?
Pretty sure it does.
“Yeah. Her and our Mom. They were two who loved it growing up. Basically since Mom died, Holly has taken on making sure it’s perfect for everyone. Trust me. It’s her thing. Bring her tonight. She’ll be happy to show Sophie the lights while you do your thing.”
I grab my coat, slinging it over one shoulder, and ignore the way the guys are still grinning like they know something I don’t.
But as I head for the parking lot, one thought sticks, heavy and persistent.
When was she going to tell me?
The sun is already dipping behind the creek, leaving the house glowing under Holly’s Christmas lights, white and sparkling, wrapped around the porch like she’s trying to personally outshine the North Star, as I pull into the driveway.
The sight shouldn’t make my chest tighten the way it does.
But it does.
Every damn time.
Madden meets me at the door with a lazy bark and another new Christmas scarf. This one is covered in mistletoe. And I drop down to one knee to scratch behind his ears. “Hey, buddy. You keep my girls safe?”
He wiggles his ass like I just gave him a treat.
And I stand and lift my nose as a delicious scent assaults me.
Vanilla, cinnamon, and something faintly citrus.
Home. Or at least what I’ve come to associate with home for the first time in forever.
It’s been decades of silence, stress, and anxiety being what greeted me when I walk in. But now. . . Now it’s different.
I step into the kitchen, and there she is.
Holly’s standing by the counter, her long hair I want to run my hand through, piled high on top of her head.
Today’s sweater is a pretty purple thing that says define nice, and she’s swaying with Sophie in her arms as she feeds her a bottle.
They sway gently like she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it and I can just barely make out the quiet way she’s humming “White Christmas.”
“Hey.” She looks up and that easy smile of hers finds me right away before it drops and she remembers she’s avoiding me. “You’re home early.”
“Coach cut us loose early and guilt-tripped us all into attending the Kings Foundation tree lighting ceremony at the center of town tonight.”
Holly’s blue eyes light up instantly, all sparkle and warmth. “Oh, I love that event. The fireworks. The music. The kids’ choir—”
Yeah. . . About that.” I cross my arms and lean back against the door frame like it’s the only damn thing holding me upright. “I’m gonna need you and Sophie to come with me.”
“What?” Her voice gets high pitched.
“Coach wants us all there. Family too. It looks good for the team.” I shrug, trying for nonchalant, but failing. “Besides, it would be Sophie’s first tree-lighting ceremony. Seems like a waste to miss it.”
Holly laughs softly, brushing her thumb over my baby girl’s cheek. “You know you could just say you want us to come, Camden.”
“I could,” I tilt my head as I look at her. “But I wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation.”
“Your reputation? As what? The grumpy, grinch, quarterback?”
“Pretty much,” I smile happy she’s at least talking to me for a change.
She shakes her head. “Do I even have time to change?”
I let my heavy gaze drag over her and linger on her face.
She’s so beautiful it fucking hurts. “You look pretty, vixen.”
“Camden,” she warns as her cheeks pink.
I push off the wall and step closer, lowering my voice. “Just saying, you could show up in your pajamas and every guy with fucking eyes would notice you, Holly.”
Her breath catches and I swear I see the moment she feels it too. . . that invisible, reckless pull that’s been building between is since the first damn time she walked into my house. Hell before then. It’s been building since the pharmacy. Earlier even. . . the bakery.
Sophie knocks the bottle out of Holly’s hand, breaking the spell.
“Your daughter has some perfect timing,” Holly laughs.
“She gets it from her nanny,” I mutter, grabbing Sophie’s hat from the counter and handing it to Holly. “Come on Vixen. Let’s go light a damn tree.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles that shy, happy smile that hits me dead center. “Fine. But only if we stop for hot chocolate at Sweet Temptations first.
“Deal.”
And as she disappears down the hall to get ready, I can’t help watching her go.
The sway of her hips mesmerizing me.
I know I shouldn’t cross the damn line that’s staring at me like a glowing neon sign.
And yet, tonight, I can’t shake the feeling that I already have.
Downtown Kroydon Hills looks like a Hallmark card threw up all over it.
Lights criss-cross along the streets, green wreathes with red bow hang from each old fashioned lamppost, fresh snow from last night sparkles under the glow of the streetlights, and packages surround the Welcome To Kroydon Hills sign at the center of town square as a reminder that I can’t avoid Christmas any longer.
It all makes my skin itch.
There’s too many people. Too much noise. And way too much Christmas.
But Holly loves it.
She’s beaming as she holds Sophie against her chest, a red-and-green romper and white sweater-looking tights on my girl’s chubby legs.
Her tiny coat and bright-red bow make her look like she belongs here.
Unlike me. I’m not sure where Holly found the outfit.
Maybe Emmie bought it, or possibly Holly did.
But either way, she looks adorable as she takes everything in wide-eyed.
She and Holly sway to the Christmas music blaring from the speakers as Holly stands chatting with Rosie and Emmie while I stand here pretending to care about the lighting schedule and trying not to stare at Holly.
“What the hell, man?” Mav asks as he sips a cup of peppermint hot chocolate by my side. “You look like you’re in pain.”
“I’m fine,” I try to blow him off.
“Sure you are,” he laughs. “Just standing here watching the nanny like you’re trying to come up with the best way to get on the naughty list.
I growl and the fucker laughs.
I remember the days when Maverick was a moody bastard just like me.
“Careful, Monroe. You’re giving the Grinch a bad name.”
Before I can tell him to fuck off, Holly looks over her shoulder, her eyes finding mine, and I swear the noise around us fades away for a half a second. She smiles, soft and easy, and the rest of the world just. . . disappears.
“Camden,” she calls, waving me over. “Do you want to try this? It’s really good.”
She holds out a paper cup topped with whipped cream and crushed red-and-white candies. “It’s peppermint cocoa and it’s delicious.”
I step closer, wrapping a hand around hers as I take the cup. My fingers brush hers, warm against the chill. “You realize this is basically liquid sugar?” I ask. But what I really want to say is do you realize this is exactly what you smell like and I’d rather taste you.
Her lips curve. “That’s the point.”
Sophie babbles between us, tugging at the collar of my coat as I give Holly her cup back and take my baby.
“Are you okay?” She asks, softly.
I kiss the top of Sophie’s head. “Just tired.”
Holly’s brow creases, like she knows I’m lying but won’t push it. Maybe because this is the closest we’ve come to a conversation in nearly a week.
“No one would have blamed you if you skipped this, you know.”
I shake my head. “Coach insisted. Said it’s good for the image.”
“And for the soul.” She runs a hand down Sophie’s back. “You might just have fun if you let yourself.”
“Doubtful,” I grin and she laughs, light and melodic and I’m about to say something stupid like, you make if fun, when Jamie’s voice booms.
“Hey, Monroe! Looks like you’re standing under the mistletoe. You and Holly should give the fans something to swoon over.”
What fucking grown man says swoon?
I shoot him a look that could probably curdle the damn egg nog he’s drinking but it’s too late. A few of the players start chanting. . . Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.
Holly’s eyes go wide. “Oh no,” she laughs. “Absolutely not.”
But it’s the look in those wide eyes that draws me in. “Afraid you’ll like it vixen?”
Her lips part and her tongue darts out before she sucks her lip. “Afraid you will,” she breathes back, barely above a whisper.
The crowd around us laughs and cheers as Jamie holds up phone. “Do it for the foundation.”
Holly sighs and rolls her eyes as she steps into my chest. “Fine. For the foundation,” she mutters under her breath.
Sophie giggles between us, oblivious as I adjust my hold on her, sliding her to one arm. My other hand tucking a lock of hair behind Holly’s ear as she moves closer and looks up at the mistletoe hanging above our heads.
“Ready?” I ask, my voice low.
She nods once. “This is just for show.”
“Right.” I run my thumb over her cheek. “Just for show.”
But as my hand slides to the back of her neck and fucking finally tangles in her soft blonde hair while I tug her closer, it doesn’t feel like pretending.
It feels inevitable.
The noise fades. The crowd fades. Even Jamie’s running commentary fades.
All I hear is Holly’s soft inhale as her eyes scan my face.
Her gaze lingers on my mouth and something inside me snaps. . . again. I tilt my head and brish my lips against hers. Barely a whisper of a kiss. Soft. Careful. And so fucking right.
Her hands find my chest, fingers curling around my coat as she rises on her toes.
I deepen the kiss, slow and searching, like we both forgot where the line was supposed to be drawn and blew right by it. She tastes like peppermint and heat and everything I’ve been trying to not want. And when I finally pull back, she’s breathing hard, her eyes wide and lips swollen.
And, fuck I want more.
More of her.
More of this.
Sophie makes a happy little noise, clapping her mittened hands together like she knows something important just happened. And like it or not, it did happen.
I watch Holly’s throat work as she trembles. “That was. . . Umm. . . Good PR.”
“Yeah,” I agree, my voice rough and hanging by a thread. “Real convincing.”
She forces a shaky laugh but her gaze lingers before she looks away. “We should find Emmie.”
I nod, adjusting Sophie so I don’t reach for Holly again.
The tree lights up behind us, and the crowd cheers as fireworks paint the sky.
But none of that holds a damn candle to the woman currently running away.