Chapter 19 Camden
NINETEEN
CAMDEN
Cora: I saw Tara…
Me: Fuck. I’m sorry, Cor. Do you want to talk? What happened?
Cora: No. I just thought you should know.
Me: Are you okay?
Cora: Yeah. It’s been almost thirty years. I should be over this.
Me: But you aren’t. Neither am I. And you’re usually the one saying that it’s okay not to be.
Cora: Ha ha. The student becomes the teacher.
Me: I had a really good teacher.
Cora: You seem…okay. Is it the girl from last week?
Me: It just might be.
Cora: Wow…I didn’t expect you to be so…
Me: Yeah, me neither.
Me: It’s so unexpected. Being this happy. I think I’m finally ready to take something for myself.
Cora: Oh shit. Okay, this is real.
Me: Yeah, I think it is.
Cora: I wish Mom would come to Boston with me.
I wish we could spend the holidays with you.
I’m so happy for you. And you’re right. It’s okay that this is still hard for me, but I’m happy that you’re allowing yourself to have some joy.
You deserve it. And if I haven’t said it, you aren’t to blame.
For any of it. Tara, the affair, Dad’s death.
It happened to all of us. You’re not to blame.
I don’t respond. As much as I appreciate the sentiment and have done the work in therapy to make peace with the past, she’s wrong. I was to blame for a lot of it. I was too selfish, too much of an asshole, too young and too stupid to care about anyone but myself.
But I’m not that person anymore.
Or at least I’m trying not to be.
And the last thing I’m going to do is waste any more time thinking about Tara.
That woman was a terror on my heart. The last time I really let myself think about her was years ago.
The last time I saw her. And it did a number on me.
Because she was with the daughter that, if given the chance, she would have passed off as mine.
My stomach twists. Back then I had no interest in being a father, and I thank God that I wasn’t tied to that woman for life because of a child.
Though I can’t help but feel bad for her daughter. She got stuck with the two most self-destructive and selfish people I’ve ever met: my ex-best friend and Tara.
When I walked in on my girlfriend with my best friend, it was like my soul left my body and I was watching the scene play out from overhead. Jeremy had been dating my sister for years. I’d always thought he was a good guy.
And I thought Tara was it for me. The four of us were inseparable.
Apparently they were a little too close.
I squeeze my eyes shut, banishing the thoughts from my brain. More than two and a half decades later, it still hurts. And it still makes it hard to trust people. To let them in.
“They’re looking good out there,” War says, pulling me from my morbid thoughts.
With a look his way, I nod. “Yeah, they’re one hell of a team, but they’ll be better if we get Mav and Becks out there next year.”
I came down to watch the Bolts practice this morning because I’m meeting with Gavin after to discuss the prospects for this year’s draft.
War arches a brow. “Does that mean you’ve found someone to date for the next three months?”
With a shake of my head, I turn back to the ice. I’d like to say I’d forgotten about the damn bet. In fact, I wish I had. But it’s been haunting me. The bet has nothing to do with Savannah, and vice versa. But there’s no doubt that if I’m gonna date anyone, it’s her.
“Oh shit. There’s really a girl.” He chuckles, the sound deep and loud, drawing the attention of Gavin and Aiden, who are out on the ice with the team.
“What girl?”
I turn to my other side and discover that Daniel has joined us. He’s wearing a smirk like he knows precisely what girl. He and his wife were there that night, and ever since, they’ve been harassing me via text nonstop about how I disappeared from my own party like a caveman.
I did, and I don’t regret it for a second.
What I do regret is getting myself into this situation with this damn bet, but here we are.
“Could the two of you at least try to focus? I’m working here,” I grumble.
Daniel laughs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with a crush.”
Though I refuse to look at him, War’s watching me with an intensity I can feel. “Me neither. A different girl a night, sure.”
“Sometimes two,” Daniel teases.
I close my eyes and grit my teeth. “I’d be happy to talk to your wives about all the one-night stands you fuckers had—”
Daniel laughs, a goofy grin on his face. “Oh, my wife knows I was a playboy.”
War folds his arms across his chest, chin lifted. “And I got my wife’s name tattooed on my balls. She knows she owns me.”
“Okay,” I say, drawing the word out. “So you understand that when you meet the girl, the past doesn’t matter.”
“Holy fuck,” Daniel hollers, startling the shit out of me. “Did he just say the girl?”
“He fucking did,” War crows.
“If the three of you are gonna continue gossiping like teenagers,” Gavin shouts from the ice, “then move along. I’m trying to lead practice over here.”
I shrink under the glare of our former coach. The other guys do too. Never did like disappointing him.
Only now do I realize that the guys on the bench are all watching us, and Brayden’s chewing on his mouthguard with a fucking smirk on his face.
“Sorry, Coach,” we say in unison.
With a huff, he shakes his head and turns back to the team. “Okay, show’s over. Go get showered and get some rest. These next two weeks are going to be brutal.”
The guys start collecting their gear and heading toward the tunnel, but before they get far, Coach whistles.
“And if I hear that any of you break curfew, I’ll have your heads.”
That’s something these guys do regularly. They’re young and stupid, and not one of them is married yet.
Back when I joined the team, almost everyone was single.
But I swear, once Brooks fell for Sara, the rest toppled like dominoes.
All but me, I guess. And fucking around lost its thrill when I was on my own, so hockey became my focus.
The rest of the guys were damn dedicated too, and we’ve got three cups to show for it.
We had a pretty fucking great run, though it’s been a decade since we’ve carried the cup around this rink, and Gavin is looking for one more before he hands over the reins to someone else.
Likely Aiden, though I’m not sure if he actually wants the title of head coach. Only time will tell, I guess.
If we’re gonna get that championship, I need to do my fucking job and get Beckham Warren and Maverick Hall on our team. Wish we could have convinced Addie Langfield to wear the Bolts jersey too, but she’ll do a hell of a job as goalie coach.
“When can we meet her?” War asks.
I smirk, knowing my next words will earn me a smack to the back of my head. “You have met her.”
He frowns. “I have?”
“She’s a friend of Josie’s,” Daniel says with a shit-eating grin.
“She’s what?” War’s blue eyes sharpen as he looks from me to Daniel and back again. “Like, she’s Josie’s age?”
“I’d like to remind you that we’re not as old as you,” Daniel says.
Fucker may irritate the shit out of me some days, but he’s got my back. No one in my life, other than Cora, has been as good to me as he has.
War’s muscles tense, his jaw hardening. “Yeah, but you’ve known my daughter since she was a kid, so—”
Daniel chuckles. “Yeah? And Gavin married his best friend’s kid. What’s the issue?”
Eyes closed, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Dammit. Yeah, I’ve known Josie most of her life. I still think of her as a kid. And while Savannah is close to the same age, there’s no fucking way—
“Who the fuck is the girl?” War grits out.
I inhale through my nose and straighten. “Savannah.”
War’s expression contorts into one of pain. “Josie’s best friend Savannah? As in the girl who has spent the last handful of Christmases at my house Savannah?”
I shrug. Didn’t know any of that, but I don’t doubt the truth of it. They’re clearly close.
He runs a tattooed hand through his dark hair and shakes his head. “Fuck, I can kind of see it.”
I practically stagger back. This time I’m the one in shock. “You can?”
With a shake of his head, he huffs out a dark laugh.
“Yeah, she’s sarcastic as shit, an old soul for sure, and a really good friend to Josie.
” He sighs. “Girl’s had a tough life. Doesn’t have a relationship with her parents.
Hence the reason she spends the holidays with us.
” He eyes the rink, where the last of the players are filtering out, including his son.
“I kind of hoped Bray would ask her out, if I’m honest.”
The way my hands ball into fists isn’t rational. Neither is the urge to growl a fuck no. So it’s a good thing War drops an arm around my shoulders and laughs. “Don’t worry, Bray only has eyes for hockey, which is good. I’m not ready to be a grandpa yet.”
Daniel makes a choking sound and stumbles back. I almost do too. Because I’m talking about dating a girl who’s his daughter’s age, and he’s talking about grandkids.
Fuck, life is strange.