18. Cameron
eighteen
Cameron
“Nice double, Miller.” Lance Taylor, the Evaders’ first baseman, smacks me on the ass as I walk down the steps and place my helmet back on the shelf.
I just scored, taking us up seven-two in the top of the ninth inning with a man on first and second, and one out. We were down at the end of the third inning, but Romero’s leadoff home run at the top of the ninth lit a fire under our asses, and we’ve continued to rally, taking the lead from the Atlanta Bolts.
“Thanks, Captain.” I join him at field level along the fence. It feels good to have a day off from pitching and DH for Patterson—one of the other five starting pitchers on the Evaders—tonight.
“Dude, quit it with that shit.” Lance rests on his elbows, shaking his head.
I love messing with him. Taylor comes from a long line of military men, and he’s the first in his family to pass on the opportunity to attend a military college to attend a division-one university to play baseball instead. His dad was far from pleased.
I chuckle, joining him at the fence. “Never.”
For real. How can I resist? Lance is Captain America in the flesh. Dark blond hair, blue eyes, clean-cut hair, and a jaw as smooth as a baby’s butt.
“Dick,” he mumbles under his breath .
We watch as Blake Jensen, our third baseman, makes a clean hit up the middle. The bases are loaded as our center fielder, Cisco Martinez, takes the plate.
“Are you coming out with us tonight?” Lance asks as the glove pops with a strike.
“Come on, Cisco,” I shout before answering Taylor. “Nah, man. I’m good. I have some shit I need to take care of.”
“Dude, you haven’t come out once since we started.”
I’ve been out, just not to the clubs with my usual crew. Instead, I’ve opted to have dinner with Martinez, Erikson, and Fletcher—also known as “the married guys”. They haven’t asked why I’ve been tagging along to dinner with them, but they suspect I have a girl back home.
“You know how it goes,” I play it off. It looks like I have to thank the married guys for keeping my dinners with them hush-hush.
“Still up at five every morning?”
Lance knows I am, but I humor him anyway.
“Dude, you know I can’t break tradition. You should join me for a run one of these mornings.”
I already know his answer when he breaks into a laugh.
“Never. So, how’s bunking with Romero been?”
“Fine. We keep to ourselves. I’m usually asleep before he gets back for curfew. Why?”
“Just asking. He’s been tight-lipped the last few weeks. Less douchey. Don’t hate him as much.”
To my utter surprise, Nico has been quiet lately. Too quiet. But I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I glance down the line to see him leaning on the fence, talking with rookie pitcher, Serrano. The two have gotten close. It’s good for them to build rapport with one another. I don’t begrudge either of them for it, but I sure as fuck miss Thompson.
“That’s good. He should get on with everyone. I don’t care if he hates me. I want to win it all this season. ”
“Me too, bro. That might shut my pops up once and for all.” He rubs the back of his neck.
I feel bad for my buddy. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have my dad in my corner cheering me on.
“That’s the dream, right?”
He nods as Cisco whacks the ball over the third base line for a single and another run scored.
“Fuck yeah!” Taylor and I scream at Martinez, who does his little dance on first in celebration. The entire team mimics him.
Aaron Fletcher, our left fielder, steps into the box, and I’m hopeful he can keep his hit streak going tonight. He does, and we end up winning the game ten-two, and another win under our belt.
Our team is looking good and dangerous as we end pre-season.
Towel around my waist, I walk through the locker room, drying my hair. The guys are buzzing tonight after our win. I can hear them planning a night at some new club called Hotlanta while I wipe my wet hair and strut to my designated cubby.
I keep my head down, hoping they don’t ask me out again. Dodging my crew hasn’t been easy, but I don’t feel like going out. Not when I have Talia waiting on me back home. The last thing I want is to break her trust. I don’t want her to think I’m out fucking around and not taking us seriously.
I knew when I crossed the line with Talia that I couldn’t half-ass it. Should we get to the point of going public, there can’t be any question that I’m all in. I refuse to give Nico ammunition to doubt my feelings for his sister.
Taking a seat, I pull out my phone to check my messages. My dad’s usual check-in is there waiting for me, but I bypass it for the one that makes my heart race.
Itty Bitty: Nice hit, big guy. You look good out there.
I hang my head and lean into my locker to hide the grin spreading across my face as I read Talia’s text. She’s been texting me during games, leaving me messages to find when I finish playing. I love every single one of them. When she starts work next week, these messages will be less frequent, so I’m eating them up now.
Big Guy: Thanks. I like you watching me. I bet you look even better.
Placing my phone in my gym bag, I stand and pull on a fresh pair of boxers under my towel before throwing the wet terry cloth in the laundry basket. My phone buzzes, sending a wave of excitement through me. I snag it from my bag, and I’m only mildly disappointed in the sender.
Jace: You were the rizzler tonight, Uncle Cam.
What the fuck is a rizzler? I hope that means something good. I cannot keep up with my nephew and his crazy slang. He’s not even a teenager yet. I do not envy my brother for having to go through this day in and day out.
Cameron: Thanks, Rhys. Are you excited about the family picnic coming up?
Jace: Hell yes!
I chuckle. If I know my sister-in-law, Rhys is in trouble for saying “hell”. I can’t wait to see him next week. He is by far the best kid on the planet.
At least until I have some of my own and give him a run for his money.
An image of a pregnant Talia and a raven-haired little girl with gray eyes pops into my head, and my chest fills with excitement.
Holy shit. What the hell was that? Ideas like that should make my dick shrivel up and crawl back inside my stomach.
My phone lights up again with another message, pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind.
Jace: Mom said I have to give Dad his phone back because I said a bad word :( See you at the picnic. Love you.
Called it . Shaking my head, I type out another message to him—one I know Rylann would appreciate. I like Rhys to have fun, but he always needs to mind his mom. She’s a freaking superwoman in my book.
Cameron: Oh no. Better watch out, kiddo. Mind your mom and dad. I can’t have my bestie getting in trouble. Then you won’t be able to come out and play with me.
Jace: LOL. I’ll be good.
Cameron: That’s what I like to hear. Love you, buddy.
Jace: Thanks for the backup, kid.
Cameron: Always, big bro.
Jace and I text a few more times while I put my game day suit back before walking out to get on the bus for the hotel. When my phone pings again, it’s a message from the person I was hoping would write back.
Itty Bitty: Doubt it. Sweatpants don’t really scream sexy.
Attached is a picture of Talia sitting on the couch, smiling at the camera. She’s so fucking cute, curled up on the sofa in a pair of sweatpants with a bowl of popcorn on her lap.
Big Guy: Baby, you could wear a trash bag and you’d still make me hard.
Itty Bitty: Wow, what a line.?? Does that usually work on girls?
Big Guy: I don’t need it to work on other girls. Just you. Is it working?
Itty Bitty: Call me later and find out.
Another picture pops up, and my mouth waters as I stare at the cleavage Talia’s aiming at the camera while she licks a spoon of chocolate ice cream. My cock goes from half to full mast at the sight of her. That mouth has been the star of my dreams since our night on the boat.
Big Guy: You can count on it.
Instead of dinner with the married guys, I preordered room service and asked for it to be in the room waiting for me. The last picture Talia sent had me racing to my room to call her.
With my roommate out with the other guys, I have the room all to myself. Earbuds in, I prop my phone up next to my plate and tap Talia’s name.
She answers on the second ring. “Hi.” Her voice is all airy, and it does all kinds of things for me.
“Hey, itty bitty.”
“Hold on a second.” I hear soft footsteps and a door click shut in the background.
“Do you want me to call you back later? Or tomorrow?” I offer, praying she says no. I didn’t intend to interrupt her plans, but I missed her. I wanted to hear her voice.
“No, no. I’m good. I wasn’t expecting you to call so early. Weren’t you supposed to go out to dinner with the team?”
“I changed my mind.”
Talia sighs. “You can go out, Cam. I don’t expect you to stay in every night. Besides, you need to bond with the guys. ”
By guys, she means her brother. Talia still has it in her head that we are going to miraculously become best friends overnight.
“I’m good. Tired from all the traveling. Besides, I need some sleep before I wake up at five for my run. What are you doing?”
“Just watching TV. I’m all alone in this big house while everyone is at the restaurant.”
“You didn’t want to go with them?”
“Nope.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and I immediately switch over to video, desperate to see her. Her face fills the screen—not a stitch of makeup on, her braid frizzing a touch—and she’s biting that thick bottom lip again.
Fuck, she’s so beautiful.
Talia takes in my shirtless state before breathing out another, “Hi.”
“Hi, baby. Did you stay home to talk to me?” I try to glimpse her room as she sits on the bed. We’ve been keeping mostly to calls to avoid being overheard.
“Maybe.” Her steely-gray eyes sparkle in the light as she stares at me through the camera.
“So, my line worked?” I tease.
She rolls her eyes, and hell if my dick doesn’t jerk in my shorts. I’d do anything to smack her ass and kiss the sass right out of her.
“Did my picture work?” She bites the tip of her finger all sexy-like.
“You fucking know it did, you naughty pixie.” I love her snark.
Talia laughs, throwing her head back, exposing her delectable neck. The sweet sound of her laughter has my chest flooding with warmth and affection.
“Sorry, not sorry.”
“I’m going to have to stop checking my phone in the locker room if you keep it up.”
“Fine,” she huffs. I watch as she falls back onto the rose-gold comforter on her bed. “I’ll stop sending pictures. ”
“Whoa, don’t get crazy.” Pointing at myself, I say, “I said I need to stop checking my phone in the locker room.” I point at her and grin. “Not for you to stop sending me pictures. You can send more of those anytime you want.”
She sighs, rolling to her side. “You’re horrible.”
Am I being too flirty? Playful? The last thing I want Talia to think is that this is all I am. Just some jokester playboy. That I’m not serious. My insecurities get the best of me. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Cam,” she whispers as regret thickens her voice. “Don’t do that. I like it when you tease me and we flirt back and forth. You make…” She pauses, and I can tell she’s choosing her words wisely.
All these butterflies come to life in my stomach.
“You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. So, no. I don’t want you to stop. I know there is so much more to you.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t risk everything to sneak around with you if you weren’t special.”
My nose tingles, and the urge to cry hits me like a line drive to the chest. I don’t think anyone aside from my parents has called me special. Talented? Hot? Funny? Sure. Special? Never.
“You think I’m special?”
“Stop second-guessing yourself. You didn’t let me when I was worried about my test, and I won’t let you do that now.” She stares at me through the camera.
I don’t know how she does it, but she amazes me at every turn with her ability to truly see me for me. To understand me.
“What about Rhys? I know for sure he thinks you’re special.”
My earlier insecurities are dead and buried as this gorgeous woman builds me up, reminding me of the man I am deep down, not the one the world sees.
I’m more than a baseball player. I’m hers.
“He thinks I’m a rizzler, actually. Doesn’t sound good. ”
“A rizzler, huh? I can see it.” Talia chuckles as she lies on her arm, staring at me with that penetrating gaze of hers.
Once again, I’m wishing I was on the bed beside her, holding her close as we talk.
“Just so you know, rizzler means charismatic. So, basically, he thinks you’re amazing. All the kids at the hospital say that. Only worry if he calls you a skibidi toilet.”
“I’m going to need you to keep teaching me this stuff.” And I’m not talking about Gen Z slang.
She nods, oblivious to what I really mean, which is good for now. She tells me story after story of learning teen speech.
When we get on the topic of her job, she lights up, and I can’t stop from falling further into her spell as I listen to the excitement in her voice. I absorb every word. I love that she’s so passionate about her work. How much she cares about people. Everything she’s sacrificed to accomplish her dreams. All of it, further confirming how fucking amazing she is.
I think I’m done falling for this woman. I’m hitting the ground without a safety net.
I think … I think I’m in love with her.