41. Lenni
FORTY-ONE
lenni
I take my time getting out of the car, avoiding Cam’s gaze. When I finally look over, he’s staring at me, not smiling any longer.
“Okay, Gus,” I say when I reach them. “It’s almost bedtime for you. Go shower and get in bed. And tell Grandpa my, um, friend came to visit.” I glance at Cam, whose face gives away nothing. “I’ll be in later.”
Gus sighs deeply but doesn’t argue, just gives Cam a long look and waves goodbye.
“See you later, buddy,” Cam tells him. “Next time I’ll bring my football, I promise.”
Gus grins, then turns and runs for the door, calling for my grandfather before he’s even made it inside.
When I look back at Cam, all the light that danced on his face when he talked to Gus has gone, replaced by a grave expression. He must know about Mom.
We look at each other, an odd sort of face-off. I notice the small cut on his lower lip and the slight swelling that anyone who hadn’t memorized his lips probably wouldn’t notice. The remnants of his fight. Something about this scrape on his otherwise perfect face makes me feel raw with tenderness for him.
I break first.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Jade told me your mom’s not doing well. I figured it had to be pretty bad for you to come back here.”
I nod.
“Is she okay?”
“Mostly. She left for rehab a few hours ago.” I trace my finger along the black pinstripe on the side of his truck, once again filled with that sick feeling of wishing none of this were happening. “Her boyfriend called the cops on her. She might not be able to live with Gus for a while.”
Cam lets out a slow, heavy breath. “I’m sorry, Lenni. That’s terrible. She must be hurting.”
“You didn’t have to come all the way up here,” I say, trying to move away from the subject of Mom so I don’t cry. “Four hours is a long drive.”
“Just under three and a half for me,” he says with a tiny smile, patting his truck. When I don’t say anything, he takes a step closer. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”
My body stiffens. “I’m not. My grandparents and Gus are here.”
He looks at me. His eyes are sad, but there’s no pity there. They shine with a sort of sincere understanding that makes me ache, and I get it; that’s not what he meant. I nod as tears prick the back of my eyes. He’s right. I’ve felt so achingly lonely since I left Shafer, since I left him.
His arms are around me before the first tear rolls down my face, and it feels even better than the first time he touched me. I sink into him and let out a deep exhale. With all the horrible stuff happening at home, I feel bad for feeling so good right now, but I don’t want it to stop.
Cam doesn’t let go, but he pulls back to look at my face. “You want to take a ride?” He studies me. I hate being babied, but this time his tenderness makes my heart want to burst.
“Yeah.” I wipe my cheeks. “Let’s do that.”
When I climb into his truck, I wonder if any other girls have been here since the last time I sat in this seat. Probably. I think that’s what normal people do. Fuck someone new to get over a breakup. But that assumes said breakup has been hard to get over, and I don’t know if that’s the case for Cam. He never called or asked for another chance. For a second, I hate him. But then I look at him and he’s watching me with that penetrating gaze that has never not made my heart skip a beat, and I know what I’m feeling isn’t hate.
We ride around town without direction. We don’t talk about Mom or us or much of anything. Instead, we listen to music, and I point out some of my old haunts and he tells me about the random oddities of his hometown, the parts of Shafer I’ve never seen. It’s when we drive past my high school and there’s not the expected rush of shame, that I realize this is the first time since I was sixteen that I’ve seen my town this way. Not as a place where dread and dark memories lurk, but just as the place where I grew up. Boring, stagnant, familiar.
Cam gets hungry, so we park in town and he buys two slices of pizza. Walking under the streetlights together, I don’t feel the anxious push to get back to the safety of the car like I usually do, that fear of seeing someone who knows my past. I feel safe. And even though I long to take his hand and lean against him and feel the strength of his body like it’s my own, I don’t need to.
When we get back to the truck, I text Grandpa to let him know I’ll be home late and not to stay up. Cam and I haven’t talked about what’s next, but I’m not ready to go home yet.
“He’s a nice guy, your grandfather,” Cam says as he backs out of the parking space. “Which way?”
“Doesn’t matter. Wait, you met him?”
Cam turns left out of the lot, away from my house. “He was outside raking when I pulled up.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t brandish the rake as a weapon.”
“No way. He invited me inside and everything. I could tell he wasn’t expecting company, though, so I just told him I’d wait for you outside.”
Even Grandpa isn’t immune to Cam’s quiet charm.
“Will he care if you’re out late?”
“No, it’s been a long time since he kept tabs on me on a Friday night.” The words remind me of something. “Wait a minute, don’t you have a game tomorrow?”
“Yeah, at eleven.”
“Don’t you need to get back? You’ll be exhausted.”
“I’ll be on the bench; doesn’t require much energy.”
“What’s that mean?”
He glances at me before turning his eyes back to the road. “I’m suspended.”
“What? Cameron! What did you do?”
One side of his mouth lifts into a smile. “Take it easy, Mom. It’s just one game.” He swallows hard, the smile gone. There’s no such thing as just one game. “I got into it with this kid on my team.”
“Mason Connery?”
“You heard?”
“Reeve told me.”
He flicks a surprised gaze my way. “When did that happen?”
“A couple days ago. No, wait, that was yesterday. He came to my apartment. Seems like a long time ago.”
“He didn’t tell me that. What did he want?”
“I guess for me to understand. He told me Mason’s the one who took the picture of Sasha.” My cheeks go warm. “I’m sorry, Cameron. I lost my head.”
He drives on, his expression unreadable.
“I wouldn’t have written a story about him without proof. I just got carried away with my own...issues.”
He gives a single nod, but I don’t know if this means he understands or he’s just acknowledging the words to save me from my shame. “We don’t have to talk about that. That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why?”
His jaw is set. “I would never not show up for you, Lenni. No matter what happened between us.”
I don’t deserve this man.
“So is that why you beat Mason up? Because of the picture?”
He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes steady on the road. “Sasha doesn’t want the story out there. This was all she wanted. All I could do, anyway.”
Why does this hit so deep? Emotion surges inside me, choking my throat. “Cam, pull over,” I manage to say.
“Where?”
“Anywhere. That park on the right.”
He pulls into the empty dirt parking lot next to a baseball field. There’s a single flickering light over the field, but otherwise everything is dark.
I unbuckle and turn sideways to face him. “I was wrong about Reeve. And about you.”
His gaze remains on the windshield in front of him.
“Missing a game is a big deal.”
“She needed me to.”
“Who?” I can only get the word out in a whisper.
He leans his head back against the seat and looks up at the ceiling. He reaches for my hand, which he brings to his mouth. He kisses the back of my hand and sets it on the seat between us.
My heart swells, this innocent kiss hitting me like the answer to everything.
I study his profile, the familiar lines and curves of his face, and something locks into place, settling firmly in my mind in a space that was waiting for so long. If I had my laptop in front of me, I could find the words for it, but here in the dark, it’s only thoughts swimming in my head. That healing doesn’t always happen linearly. That life was once different, and it won’t ever be that way again. That there’s therapy and apologies and punishments, but sometimes they won’t mean anything. But that someone making the wrong choice can mean everything when he’s doing it for you.
Is he thinking it too, as he sits there silently? Maybe these aren’t the conclusions Cam has drawn. He might be aching to play in that game tomorrow and wondering why he made such a big sacrifice when it doesn’t change the past. But when he turns to me, there’s not a hint of regret in his eyes.
I slide closer to him. There are things I should say like, Thank you and Forgive me, but they feel so hollow. His hand rests on the seat just below my leg, close enough I can feel the warmth coming off his skin. I lean over and kiss him.
Everything is like it was before except, somehow, more intense. There’s no hesitation as our tongues meet, as he takes me in his lap and slides us to the relative roominess of the passenger seat. I press my body tight to his, taking in his heat. There’s no space for questions between us.
I can’t make sense of time as we kiss and grope in the dark. His touch is so familiar, but it sinks bone deep like I’ve never felt before. Our bodies move faster, yet time moves slower as we savor every inch of each other.
Pants are pushed down, though somehow, we never break the kiss. I straddle his lap. His fingers pull my panties aside. I shudder when his knuckles brush the slick heat between my legs.
He enters me with one smooth thrust, drawing a sharp breath from my throat. Cam lets out a low groan. I let my head fall back, luxuriating in this brief instant where pleasure bleeds into pain and back again.
His body settles into a steady rhythm. His fingers dig painfully into my hips as he fucks me, possessing me. I cover his hands with mine, pressing them deeper.
I watch our bodies move together, catching only glimpses here and there like watching lightning illuminate the night sky. The veins that run down his strong forearms, the drop of sweat that traces his sharp cheekbone, his lidded gaze watching me watch him.
I taste his mouth again. His scent is inside my head, dark and male, trapping me in memories of all our nights together. A spark of longing lights inside me, acute as homesickness. I kiss him harder. I don’t ever want this to end.
I wrap my arms around his neck, urging him deeper. My hips grind against him. The tension inside me is unbearable. His hands cradle my head, but I have to pull away from the kiss. I cry out as my body breaks like a wave.
Heat and pleasure ripple through me. Cam’s thrusts grow desperate until, at last, his body releases with a shudder.
“Lenni.” My name drips from his lips. His voice seems to speak every feeling that rages and swirls inside me: need, want, possession, longing. Love. I swear I feel it. Can it be real?
When I open my eyes some time later, it’s almost one a.m. I don’t know how long I’ve been dozing. As soon as I move, Cam stirs and opens his eyes.
“Do you have to get going?” I whisper.
He rubs his eyes and blinks at the clock. “Guess I better.”
I don’t bother moving out of the middle seat as we drive back to my grandparents’ house. Back in the driveway, I unbuckle my seat belt but don’t get out. I don’t want to leave him yet.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you,” I tell him. “For showing up.”
“I always will.”
A moment passes.
“Are you okay driving? Do you want some coffee before you go?”
He shakes his head. “I’m awake. No worries.”
“Okay. Well . . . good night.”
“G’night, Lenni.”
I get out of the truck, and he rolls down the window.
“When will you be back?” he asks.
“Sunday night.”
He nods, but doesn’t ask for more.
Inside the house, I leave the lights off and stand at the window, watching his taillights move up the driveway, then flicker between the line of trees and disappear down the road. I feel weak and confused. I don’t know how a night so fraught with emotion and unanswered questions can feel good, but it was such a good night. To know the truth about the photo feels like freedom. And those minutes—hours?—in Cam’s truck felt beyond compare. But now the fear is slowly creeping in...what if that was the last time?
I’m scared of what lies ahead. What would be worse? To give up on me and Cam for good or to say what needs to be said and face the obstacles together, knowing that even if we give it our all, we might crash and burn?
So many questions and only one thing I know for certain. My heart has never felt fuller than it did the moment I saw him standing there waiting for me.