Chapter 2
CAMERON
Standing at the foot of my bed, I fixed the collar of my white button-up shirt, twisting my head, and a pop came from my neck with the motion.
It was another day, filled with press and the constant talking points required.
We were happy to have the new coach. We worked well with him and were excited about the new season and what he brought to the field.
It wasn’t as if I hated the new coach; it was the opposite.
I believed he could take the team to a new level, bring more attention to players who usually would be lost in the shadows.
I had no problem expressing these thoughts, but I hated having to.
I just wanted to play the game I love; why all the bullshit of public speaking had to be involved never sat well with me.
Glancing at my reflection in the full-length mirror that sat in the corner of the room, I nodded my head and exhaled.
With a smooth motion, I spun and grabbed up my bag from the floor, heading into the main room of my penthouse.
My gaze drifted to the city line view, dropping my bag next to an end table as I passed.
The scent of fresh-brewed coffee hit me like a ton of bricks.
I would have loved to enjoy a cup on the balcony, watch the city come to life, and take in the brisk breeze, but not on game day.
I had a ritual when it came to gamedays, and it never failed me.
No physical activity the night before. No coffee in the morning, oatmeal with fruit and nuts for breakfast.
I stepped to the counter, pulling my phone from its charger, and saw that I had missed three calls and six text messages.
I exhaled and tried to prepare myself for the chaos that the day would bring.
Not only the game, but the press, and the task of reining in the few players who were still upset about the new coach’s changes.
They were young players and still had the mindset of their college days.
They were big names who thought they would get certain perks for signing with the Jaguars, but when they didn’t get everything they wanted right out the gate, they blamed the coach.
Quickly, I flipped my fingers over the keyboard with a short reply, hitting send as I felt a grip around my shoulders.
My eyes closed to the pressure of the squeeze, my head dropped down, and a light groan sounded behind my closed lips with the hard push of fingers against my neck.
My lips curled into a grin as their hands left me, and I heard the shuffle of their feet as they moved to my side.
My gaze shifted to Lana as she smirked and popped one of the blackberries from the bowl that rested on the counter into her mouth. She knew what she was doing.
“Long morning?” she asked, popping another of the berries into her mouth.
My brows arched with her question. “And it’s not even eight,” I answered with my attention back on the phone as a new message came through.
“You might need to see the trainer before the game, you’re pretty tense.” She suggested, her voice soft.
“It’s just gameday stress, it will work out.”
“This isn’t just a normal game, though.” She quickly added, bringing my attention to her.
“New coach and all.” Lana had been such an essential fixture in my life that she knew my thoughts before I could even express them.
She and I met when we were both in elementary school and kept in contact through different colleges.
She even moved to Sandusky when I signed with the team.
“He’s not bad, just a few more rules than some of us old schoolers are used to.
” I joked, though it was far from a joke.
Coach Marshall was a decent guy all around, but he did have his rules and gave no room for mistakes, even off the field.
We were to conduct ourselves in honorable ways, never to reflect poorly on the franchise, the city, or the team.
On his first day in camp, he made sure we all knew that one rule break would get us benched for a game.
Two would be four games: three, the entire season. There was no fourth.
“So, he’s ready? The team’s ready?” She asked the very questions I knew reporters would ask me in a few short hours.
I paused and couldn’t help but wonder if the answers I had placed in my mind were honest and trustworthy.
We had to win this game; I knew it. If we didn’t, the sour taste it would leave on the coach would trickle down to us, which could only mean more challenging times to come, and in turn, the game I loved more like a forced day at the office, so to speak.
Nodding in confirmation, I looked back down at the phone as a call started to come in.
Before I could answer it, she snatched the device from my hands and arched her brows. I knew that look.
With a chuckle, I nodded once more. “Yeah, he’s ready. We are ready. We’ll win.” I confirmed with confidence.
“Good.” She held back my phone; before I could react, with a swift movement, she made her way to the other side of the counter. “You want anything more for breakfast?”
“Nah, I really should get going.” Sliding my phone into my pocket, I moved around the counter to her, stopping just before her as she turned to face me, our gazes locked with one another.
We stood in silence for a minute when I smiled and leaned in, kissing her softly on the forehead. “I’ll call before the game.”
I made a swift move to my bag, gripping the handles and then my sunglasses. As I stepped to the entrance, my exit was halted by her. “Will you be home after the game?”
I glanced back at her with a shrug. “Depends on if we win or lose,” I answered honestly.
“Well, considering you just guaranteed victory.” She added with a sarcastic tone.
I chuckled. “True. Guess I’ll be late then.” I smiled with a wink. “I’ll call ya.” I opened the door, stepping out, “Have fun with Sofia.” I yelled before it closed behind me.
I stepped out of the elevator and moved into the garage, instantly hearing the crowd just outside the gate.
I was honored to have fans, flattered even, but I was also a bit unsettled, as I wished they didn’t know where I lived.
Giving the garage attendant a grin and nod as I passed him, patting him on the back as he moved from the open door of my Porsche Taycan.
I tossed my bag into the passenger seat and climbed in, pushing my sunglasses on.
“Good luck tonight, Mr. Walters.” With a grin, I thanked the young man.
I waited for the gate to open, and as I pulled out, I slowed down to avoid the fans who had pushed past the stationed security. I waved as I continued forward and turned from the building, heading toward the stadium.