Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
CAMDEN
Cora: Try not to worry. I promise she’ll calm down. She’s taking a shower now. Then she’ll go to bed early. Tomorrow will be a better day.
I frown at my sister’s text, my head pounding. A better day? That’s laughable.
My mother hasn’t had a truly good day in years. And it’s my fucking fault.
Cora’s wrong. I should worry. I shouldn’t have even left, but I’m selfish enough to let my need to see Savannah win out this time.
I spent five days in Vegas so my sister could take a break, and though I usually stay through Sunday when I visit, Cora agreed to come back early when she discovered that Savannah is set to move in this weekend.
I told her we could postpone it a week, but my sister wasn’t having it.
This truly proves that I’m a selfish asshole. She takes care of our mother at least three weeks out of the month. More if I can’t make my travel schedule work. She rarely has time for herself, and when she did this month, she came home early for me. I should have stayed.
Me: I’ll stay for two weekends next month, promise.
Cora: Go have fun. Please. You deserve this.
I don’t, but I don’t want to argue with her, so I let it go and slip my phone into my pocket. Then I make my way to the private elevator that leads to the owner’s suite where Savannah should be waiting.
My hope was that I’d land early enough to spend a little time with her at home first, but the plane got delayed and then there was an obscene amount of traffic leaving the airport. There wasn’t a chance I’d make it home. Hell, I barely made it here before the puck drop.
I force a smile as I pass one employee after another at Bolts Arena.
This place feels more like my home than anywhere else.
It’s the place where I got my ass kicked, where I discovered that I wasn’t, in fact, the best of the fucking best like I’d grown up believing, where I found friends who became family, and where I eventually became one of the greats on the ice alongside them.
It’s where I became a man and learned what truly matters in life.
Not the actual Stanley Cup, but the team of people who won it along with me.
The friendships that grew from the countless hours we spent together chasing that dream.
Outside the owner’s suite is a team picture from Noah’s last season. It was the last time my core group of friends was on the ice together, when we raised the cup above our heads and brought their kids out onto the rink and celebrated.
I smile. That was the season I realized I had something really special here. And I’ve built upon that year after year. I may not put on that jersey or the pads anymore, but I still bleed Bolts blue.
My smile only grows when a loud cackle sounds from inside the owner’s suite. I’d recognize Sara’s laugh anywhere. And when it’s followed by my girlfriend’s raspy laugh? Damn if my heart doesn’t skip a beat. I peek inside, and when I spot her, my chest expands, flooding with affection.
Her smile is huge, her head tipped back, eyes closed, her wild red hair practically hitting her ass.
Like she can sense my attention, her lashes flutter open and she zeroes in on me. That’s when her outfit registers. Holy shit. She’s wearing a Boston Bolts jersey. And not just any jersey.
Her eyes glitter with excitement. The feeling is fucking contagious. And just as strong as my need for her. My pants are suddenly a little too tight, because I know without a doubt my girl is wearing my jersey.
No woman has ever worn my jersey. I’ve waited decades for this.
I stalk toward her, and like the good girl she is, she spins and pulls her hair over one shoulder, giving me the perfect view of my name and number on her back.
My heart beats wildly, and my world falls into place.
My name. My woman. My jersey.
Fuck, I love her. And I’m so fucking tired of hiding it.
I survey every inch of her, then I lean in and press a kiss to her cheek. “Hmm,” I say in her ear. “What’s the title of the next column going to be? Don’t wear your boyfriend’s jersey unless you’re ready to get fucked in front of thousands?”
She whips around, her green eyes going wide. “Camden Snow. How long have you known?”
Head tipped back, I bark out a laugh. “Since Christmas.”
Laughter sounds nearby, reminding me that we’re not alone. Damn. I was so focused on her I forgot our friends were here too.
“Oh my god,” she says, turning to the group of women gathered near us. “You all knew too?”
Sara holds up a hand. “Guilty.”
“Assholes,” she bellows, but she’s smiling.
Chuckling, I pull her against me. “To be fair, they really do weird couple things, and the sex class was Sara’s suggestion.”
“I’ve been dying to do one for years,” she says without an ounce of shame. “It was the perfect excuse.”
“Assholes,” Savannah mutters again.
“Maybe, but we’re also your new besties. That’s official now that your man is looking like he wants to ravish you in that jersey, so you’re welcome.” Sara winks at her.
“Come on, girls,” Hannah says. “Let’s give them some privacy.” They all filter out, laughing as they go, and Hannah squeezes my shoulder as she passes. “Happy for you.”
I’m still grinning when Savannah turns to me, her lip between her teeth, and the room falls silent. “You’re not mad about the articles?”
I cup her jaw and drag my thumb over her smooth skin. “No, baby girl, it explained why you were off your fucking rocker those first few weeks.”
Her mouth is wide open again, so I take advantage and drag my tongue along her bottom lip, then go in for a kiss.
She sighs. “So the moving in thing?” She lowers her gaze, her expression turning to one of uncertainty.
“Was all me,” I tell her honestly. “I want this. I want you. Jesus, when I first saw you in my damn jersey, I nearly came in my pants.”
She giggles, her cheeks going pink.
“I’m serious. I’ve never felt this way about another person in my life.”
She hums, a soft smile on her face, and pushes up on her toes. Before her lips can meet mine, though, my phone blares in my pocket.
My heart sinks. The ringtone is the one I set specifically for my mother. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I have to get this.”
I consider walking away so she doesn’t hear the conversation, but hell, I asked this woman to move in with me.
I’m in love with her. And yet she doesn’t know anything about this huge part of my life.
It’s ugly, and it paints me as the selfish person I used to be and often still am.
But if I want her in my life for good, this is part of it, and I can’t continue to hide it.
So with a deep breath, I stay by her side and slide my thumb over the screen. “Hi, Mom.”
“Camden,” she breathes as I bring the phone to my ear. “I can’t find your father. He’s not answering his phone.”
I press my fingers into my forehead. I can’t tell her the truth. The doctors have told us it’s best to just redirect her and calm her down. Telling her my father is dead and isn’t coming home repeatedly is cruel. “Mom. Where’s Cora?”
My mother sobs. “Cora ran away. You know that.”
A groove forms between Savannah’s brows as she studies me, but she doesn’t leave.
“Mom, take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay.” I bring the phone down and tap out a quick message to my sister but before I can even hit send I hear her voice.
“Sorry, Cam,” my sister says, her voice far away. There’s a rustling, and when she speaks again, her words are clear. “I got her. Mom,” she says in a soothing tone, “it’s okay.”
The line goes dead, but I don’t drop my phone. I’m too drained to move.
“Camden,” Savannah says, voice soft.
My heart hammers in my chest. How is it possible to go from such a high to such a low in a matter of seconds? Why is this always my life? Every time something good happens, I’m reminded of how quickly life can shift. I’m reminded that nothing lasts. That I don’t deserve happiness.
When I don’t respond, because my throat is too tight to get a word out, Savannah gently pries my phone from my hand.
Eyes closing, I take a deep breath, trying to find words.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” she says.
“We do.” I lock eyes with the beautiful woman in front of me.
She’s an anchor, keeping me from drowning in the storm that is my life.
Life may be unfair, and I may have lost a lot, but she’s here, and she cares.
I’ve been around long enough to know how rare that is.
To find a person who will stand with me through the storm.
“We lost my father in a plane crash. It was fucking awful.” I wince.
“Obviously.” I shake my head. “My mother blamed me afterward. Rightfully so. The two of them were supposed to be at my game. It was a small plane. I’d chartered it so they could see me play.
” I look out toward the ice. It’s easier than seeing the heartbreak reflected in Savannah’s eyes.
“My sister had run away years earlier. That was also my fault.” My shoulders tighten and my stomach roils, the familiar shame and regret descending.
As the emotions thicken, making it hard to breathe, I shake out my shoulders and look back toward Savannah.
She’s still quietly waiting for me to tell my story. No trace of judgment on her face.
“My sister had come back a month or so earlier, so my mom stayed home, too afraid that Cora would disappear again if she turned her back for more than a second. My dad came on his own. And then the plane went down.”
Heat stings the backs of my eyes, but I refuse to let the tears come.
“Anyway, she hated me after that. Our relationship was nearly nonexistent for almost a decade. But then she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and this is a sick thing to say, but I got my mom back.
Because she doesn’t remember that my dad is gone because of me.
She doesn’t blame me anymore. But now I have to go through this. ”