12. Cameron
Chapter 12
Cameron
M y alarm goes off Monday morning, and the last thing I want to do is go to work. It doesn't matter that Everett is there too. This past weekend, I had him all to myself, and even if we didn't part on the best of terms yesterday, I'm not ready to let go of having him uninterrupted. We didn't discuss our moment on the couch, but we shared one beside the pool until Colton showed up and ruined it. Though I'm unsure, I can place the blame squarely on him. Had I shown my cards about Kelce the night before, Everett may have called Colton off whatever wild goose chase he sent him on to defend my safety. I'm not trying to be irresponsible or inconsiderate of other people's time, but secrets are lies too. You can't say they are ill-timed truths because it doesn't change the fact that you kept them. Everett letting me have the last word and walk away yesterday tells me he's still keeping them. Part of me thinks he holds onto his secrets because they are the only things that give him a purpose to still be in my life. The secrets give him a reason to check in on me and watch. They fulfill whatever oath he gave my dad by existing. If you strip them away, what's left?
The answer is simple: me. I want that to be enough.
I kept that in mind as I got ready this morning. He's starting to notice me, whether he's willing to admit it or not. Even when his words are tainted with ire, he sees me. It's then that I think he sees me the most, and he hates it. But I know that not all hate is rooted in venom. Most of the time, hate comes from fear. I need him to grow through the hate so he can come out on the other side. That's why today I put a little more thought into my outfit. I put effort into my outfits every day, but I've been more lax in my choices since I've been at the stadium. Don't get me wrong, my hair and makeup have been on point. Well, apart from last week, when I came in looking and feeling like a pile of shit. I might be borderline certifiable because even though we still don't know who broke into Connor's house, nor do we have a solid motive, I'm low-key happy that I did, indeed, have a stalker because it gave my appearance a pass. Before that, I'd been wearing cute, refined athleisure, but today, I'm going with slim-fit, high-waisted white pants paired with a cobalt blue body suit. The outfit fits me like a glove. Everett may have been able to ignore me last week, but this past weekend, I held his eyes, and I'm going to make sure I keep it that way.
I'm just coming down the stairs when I remember I don't have my keys. Everett had my car picked up from Connor's over the weekend and he never handed them to me. Turning toward his office, I only manage to take two steps before he startles the shit out of me. "Ready to go?"
My hand flies over my heart as I peer up the open staircase and find him standing at the top, looking the complete opposite of me. Where I'm dressed for a day at the office, he's looking like a snack dressed for a day at the gym with his athleisure clinging to his toned chest and stretching around his biceps.
"I was just going to ask you for my keys."
He starts down the steps. "That won't be necessary. You'll be riding with me for the foreseeable future." A small part of me wants to argue and tell him that I am an independent woman and don't need a babysitter. However, a bigger part of me wants to ride with him everywhere. Not to mention, mad or not, this keeps me right where I want to be—next to him. When he gets to the bottom, he picks up the duffle bag by the door and says, "Want to stop at The Bean Hive?"
I'm unsure where this lightheartedness is coming from. Yesterday, I gave him honesty, but that's a hard pill for him to swallow when he's not ready to face his own. Those truths tend to shut him down. He retreats instead of facing them. I was prepared to put in the work to bring him back to me, but I don't dwell on it. Instead, I tuck it away and play into whatever this is.
"Are you trying to sweeten me up in hopes I won't notice the hostage situation developing around here?" I teasingly toss back as I make my way out the front door.
"You're hardly being held captive." He closes the door as we walk the stone path out to the driveway.
"Okay then. Can I have my keys to go to the store after work? I need to pick up a few things."
He tosses his duffle bag in the trunk. "Text me a list. I believe you owe me one anyway. I'll have Camila pick up whatever you need this afternoon…" He pauses before opening his door and our eyes lock. "As for the rest, let me make myself clear. I said you'd be riding with me for the foreseeable future. That means where you go, I go. Are we clear?"
And there it is. There's the denigration I was expecting.
"Crystal." I smile sweetly. "Freedom is overrated."
" I am so fucking sorry, Cam," Parker says, standing at the cashier counter in the team shop with a counter full of my favorite foods.
I slowly walk over to the counter. After everything that happened once Everett showed up at Connor's last Friday, I hadn't put much more thought into Parker letting me down. Now that he's here and the danger is behind me, I can't help but be a little agitated.
"What happened? Why didn't you answer your phone, but you answered Elijah's?"
He drops his head. "It's a long story, and I'm already going to have to run extra laps for being here instead of out there on the field."
"You didn't even text or call."
His eyes rise to meet mine. "Because I knew you were with him."
"How did you know Everett was on his way that night?" I ask as I set my coffee down and take inventory of all the snacks he picked up, including a slice of carrot cake from my favorite bakery on the other side of town.
He rounds the counter and nods toward the food. "Save me some snacks, and I'll stop by after practice. We can talk then."
He turns to leave, but before he makes it out the door, I say, "I would have answered Park." He gives me a half smile, one that doesn't meet his big blue eyes, before he exits, and it wounds me. I hate that he believes our friendship doesn't mean something to me if I have Everett. We got close. I know he has feelings for me. I have feelings for him too; they're just not romantic ones. I know the same is true for him, but I think whatever is going on between him and Everett is affecting everything in his orbit, and that includes me.
I'm just flipping open the box of donuts to see the selection he picked out, which should include white frosted long johns and cinnamon fritters, when the door opens again.
"You think I was going to eat all the donuts before practice was over?"
"Um, no…" a female voice trails off as I turn around, licking my fingers clean of the powdered sugar from the decadent morsel that will now have to wait.
"Hi, can I help you?" I ask the pretty blonde with a long braid pulled over her shoulder wearing a pair of overalls and converse.
"Are you Cameron?" she shoves her hands into her pockets as she walks further into the store, taking a slow look at all of the inventory.
"I am."
"Everett sent me down here to train with you."
Interesting. We just spent thirty minutes in the car together, and he didn't mention this girl at all. Two people working the team shop makes sense. If I have to call off or I get sick, she can fill in, but I can't help but be a little sour about it. One, this place feels like my baby, and two, he didn't freaking tell me. Why didn't he bring it up? It's not hard. "Oh hey, by the way, I have a new girl training with you today. Her name is…"
"What's your name?"
"Stormy," her eyes slowly drag down my body, unimpressed with what she sees. "I'm not expected to dress like you for this position, am I?"
I ignore her tone and the obvious distaste in her expression. We don't have the same style. It's only offensive if I let it be.
"No, there are staff shirts that can be worn with jeans, black leggings, or an athletic skirt."
She purses her lips and nods, her eyes casually flitting over my mountain of snacks before she starts running her hands along the racks of clothes, making me anxious.
"Would you like a donut?"
She joins me at the counter. "I'm glad you offered because stealing one behind your back might have been awkward."
I laugh and take the one I already pawed at before pushing the box toward her. "Have at it. There's more here than I could ever eat."
Stormy takes a big bite out of her long john before talking around her food and asking. "So, which one of those dumb jocks out there has his strap twisted up for you?"
I practically snort fritter out my nose. "None of them. I'm friends with the catcher and these snacks are a peace offering for a friend fail." I hop up on the counter. "Are you new in town?"
"Is this place really so small that you would know that?"
"Unfortunately, yes. Even if you didn't get dropped in my lap, chances are I would hear about the new girl from the guys. Small town means slim pickings. Any time there's a new girl in town, those barbarians out there start dick-measuring contests and lay their claim before they ever get a name."
That makes her laugh out loud. She leans against the counter and says, "You're funny. I wasn't expecting that."
"Oh yeah, why is that?"
She shrugs. "You look like one of those runway ready, mean girl, preppy bitches with their head up their ass."
"Thanks…" I drag out slowly.
"Oh, that's definitely not a compliment."
"Yeah, I got that, but I'm a glass-half-full kind of girl. You said 'runway ready,' so… that's a win." She snorts. "So where are you from?"
Even though she's not looking at me, I can see her smile fade, and I know instantly it's a sore subject or, at a minimum, it's a reminder of one.
"Nowhere worth mentioning." She pops the remaining donut in her mouth. "So, do we sit around and eat pastries all day? Because, if so, I'd like to add chocolate donuts to the list."
I hop off the counter. "Come on. I can teach you how to take inventory while I input the items and their prices into the system."
" S o do we get a lunch break around here or what?"
I look over at Stormy, who's just about eaten all my snacks. I don't know where she puts it, but the girl can eat. If I ate all those snacks, they'd go straight to my hips. I mean, technically I planned on eating all of them, but maybe over the span of a few days, not in one sitting. I look down at my watch and see that it's already 12:30.
"Yeah, you can take a break if you'd like. We get thirty minutes."
She gets off the floor where she's been sorting the last shipment of T-shirts by size. "You're not going to take a break?"
I shrug. "I don't have my car today."
"I'd offer you a ride somewhere, but…" She shoots me finger guns. "I don't have a car either." She throws her thumb over her shoulder and adds, "I'm going to stretch my legs. I'll be back in a half hour."
"Sounds good."
I stand from the stool and raise my arms above my head to stretch myself just as a pair walking out to the parking lot catches my eyes. It's Everett with Moira's doppelg?nger again. My mood wasn't too bad, all things considered, until this moment. This is the second time I've seen him leave the premises with her. I don't care, unpopular opinion or not, colleagues of the opposite sex shouldn't go out to lunch together. Unless you're in a group, one-on-one lunches are always more. There's always an ulterior motive. I've yet to meet Lauren, so I can't say for sure who is coming on to whom. She could be a gold digger looking for her next meal ticket, or Everett has a type and she checks all the boxes. Regardless, I know there is a motive.
I grab my carrot cake out of the beverage cooler I stashed it in before Stormy could gobble it up, only to realize I have no utensils. "Seriously," I groan, staring at it as though somehow it can solve all my life problems if only I had a spoon to eat it. Fuck it. I pick it up and take a huge bite just as Parker walks in from practice.
"Woah, slow down there, tiger," he jests as he approaches the counter.
I give him an unamused smile before saying, "You forgot to bring me a spoon."
"You could have walked down to the concession area and grabbed one."
"Yeah, but I needed a bite now." Walking down to concessions would have been a great idea, but going there to grab one would have defeated the comfort I needed from that bite at that very moment. I needed to feel better now, not five minutes from now.
"Damn, girl. What happened to all the other snacks I brought you? I told you to save some for me."
I reach for my bottle of water and take a drink to rinse down the remaining cake. "I got a trainee today, and she had an appetite." I shrug. "It's the thought that counts though, Parker. I'm not mad."
He pulls a spoon out of his back pocket. "You going to share your cake?"
"Depends. Are you going to tell me why you couldn't show up to literally save my life on Friday?"
He jabs his spoon into the cake. "Yeah, well, I suppose, in a way, I was saving another," he mumbles around a mouth full of cake.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I ask as I snatch the spoon out of his hand and steal my own bite.
"Elijah got trashed downtown. I had to go pick him up."
My eyes narrow on his as I stab the cake, leaving the spoon for him. "Responsible Elijah? We are talking about your brother, correct?"
"He hasn't been handling the breakup with Annie well," he says before taking one last bite and hopping up onto the counter.
"Has he forgotten he broke up with her?"
"He's aware. I don't think he regrets it. I just think it hurts. Everyone thought she was the one, but now that she's gone, I can see that she was never the one for him. Elijah carried that with him every day, torn between caring about someone and not wanting to let down friends and family who basically had their lives planned out for them from the moment they graduated from high school. That's what living in a small town is—rumors and outdated conventions."
Before I can say a word, Stormy returns. "Hey, I grabbed you a fork for that cake you have in the cooler."
"Are you planning on eating my cake too?"
I know she said she brought ME a fork, but let's be real, the girl has literally eaten all my other snacks. She's not fooling anyone with that.
"Nooo," she smarts before she looks up and finds we aren't alone. "Didn't know you had company. Should I come back?"
Parker slides off the counter and takes two long strides in her direction. "I'm Parker," he holds out his hand for her to shake.
"I'm not interested in measuring your dick."
The water I just drank literally flies out of my nose, "Shit." I laugh as I grab a roll of paper towels and try to pat dry all the papers I've been working on all morning.
"Well, I wasn't going to ask you to measure my dick."
"No? What were you going to ask me?" She turns with her hand on her hip, giving him her full attention while I make a mental note that she has no qualms about saying whatever the fuck she wants.
"I was going to ask if you knew what material my shirt was made out of."
"Read the tag," she offers, agitated by his antics.
"I can't," he pulls at his collar. "You do work in the team shop, don't you?"
"It would appear that way."
"Well, then, you should probably know about shirts. This one, for example," he pulls it away from his chest. "Feel it."
She quirks a brow but extends her hand, running her fingers over the fabric. "It's smooth, moisture-wicking. Feels good to the touch. What's it made of?"
She reaches up for his collar to check the tag, but he snatches her wrist. "It's ninety-nine percent boyfriend material."
I laugh as Stormy says, "Wow, are you really that lame?"
He shrugs. "Maybe, but I made you smile." Then, turning to me, he asks, "What time do you get off today? Connor said I could borrow his Marucci bat to see if I liked it. I was going to see if you'd swing by the house with me since you know the code."
Technically, I can leave whenever I want. We aren't open to the public yet. I'm not sure I love the idea of going back to the house, but I did leave a few things there. I could grab them. Plus, I don't care to wait around here looking pathetic while Everett's out prancing another woman around town on a lunch date.
"We can go now if you want. I just need to close the computer and grab my bag."
"Sweet. Do you want me to toss these boxes in the dumpster on the way out?"
"Yes, please," I answer, shutting my computer and tossing my cake trash in the can before grabbing my bag off the counter.
"Does that mean I get to leave too?" Stormy chimes in as I'm shutting down.
Shit. Everett sent her down here, but he never told me I was a manager or that I would even be training anyone. He's been really good at telling me to act like an adult, but what's his excuse? He's avoiding me, which is equally childish.
"I don't see why not. Unless you need the hours? I can walk you down to concessions. I'm sure they could use a hand?—"
"Or you could tag along," Parker offers.
She side-eyes him. I can't tell if she's genuinely unimpressed with him or trying not to show her cards. Yes, I know what I said earlier, but Parker isn't one of those guys. He's one of the good ones. I find his cheesiness cute, and he's not bad to look at either. The guy is stacked, has stumps for legs being a catcher, deep blue eyes, and a sandy blond mop of thick waves on his head. The guy is a catch. If my heart didn't belong to someone else, I'd try to steal his.
"I'll stay."
"Parker can drive you home," I offer, hearing the dejection in her tone.
"It's fine. I'm not supposed to leave anyway."
"To live is to break the rules every now and again. Come on, it's just a ride."