Chapter 23 #3
"When's the last time you ate a real meal?" I asked, twirling pasta on my fork and trying really, really hard not to think about the sounds he was making. And how much I was looking forward to hearing them again in the extremely near future.
He thought about it while demolishing half his burger in three bites. "Breakfast on Thursday? Maybe? Everything's kind of a blur. I know Coco made dinner at some point, but..."
"Cam." I reached across the table to touch his hand. "You can't not eat. You need fuel, especially when you're playing."
"I know. I just...couldn't." He turned his hand palm up to lace our fingers together. "Everything felt wrong. Like the whole world was tilted off its axis. Logan threatened to force-feed me at one point."
"Good," I said. "Someone needs to take care of you when I'm not there."
"I'd rather you just always be there," he said simply, and my heart skipped.
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, but we couldn't seem to stop touching – his foot hooked around my ankle under the table, fingers brushing as we shared truffle fries, his hand finding mine between bites.
It was like we both needed constant reassurance that this was real, that the other person wasn't going to vanish.
"The team knows," Cam said eventually, dragging a fry through ketchup. "About us being real. They figured it out when I showed up to practice looking like death about the time ."
"What did they say?"
"Pietro started a betting pool on how long before we got married. Hendricks tried to give me relationship advice, which was alarming. Miller just said 'about damn time.'"
I laughed. "The publicist and the power forward. We're like a bad romance novel."
"No...the best romance novel," he corrected. "Though I'm still waiting for my shirtless cover shoot."
"I'll see what I can arrange," I said dryly. "Though after tonight's game, we might want to wait for the bruises to fade."
"Zayne cornered me in the locker room after the game," Cam said, sobering. "Wanted to know what the hell was wrong with me."
I tensed. "What did you tell him?"
"The truth. That I've been an idiot and nearly lost the best thing in my life because I was too scared to fight for it." He pushed the remains of his burger away. "He said I looked like shit and that I better fix things with you or he'd make the Boston player look like he got off easy."
"Zayne strikes again," I said with a small smile. "Though I appreciate him having my back. Both of you."
"He loves you," Cam said simply. "And despite his grumpy exterior, he wants you happy. Think he figured out how I felt about you at the beach house. He told me last night that he was tired of watching us dance around each other."
"Really?"
"Right after he threatened to end my career if I hurt you.
" Cam's smile was rueful. "But then he said something else.
Said he'd never seen me as happy as I was during our little fake engagement.
He said you guys had a long talk over pizza on Thursday night, and that maybe it was time he stopped trying to protect us both from something we clearly wanted. "
My eyes burned with sudden tears. "He told my parents the same thing. So no need to freak out when we show up to Frank and Diana's for Thanksgiving, Zayne let the cat out of the bag last Sunday when we were still there."
"Your brother sees more than he lets on.
" Cam stood, moving to the window that overlooked the Boston skyline.
The city lights painted his profile in gold and shadow.
"Ten years, Lana. Ten years of watching you date other guys and pretending I didn't care.
Ten years of letting you paint me as this player who couldn't commit, when the truth was I didn't want to commit because no one else was you. "
I stood too, moving to wrap my arms around him from behind, pressing my cheek against his bare back. I could feel the tension in his muscles, the careful way he held himself. "We both made mistakes. We both let fear keep us apart. But we're here now. That's what matters."
He turned in my arms, cupping my face in his hands with devastating tenderness.
"I love you," he said, the words hanging between us like a confession.
"I've loved you since you told me at that house party my slap shot needed work.
. I've loved you through distance and misunderstandings and a fake engagement that felt better than real.
I love you in a way that terrifies me because I don't know how to exist anymore without it. "
"Cam," I whispered, tears spilling over.
"You don't have to say it back," he said quickly. "I just needed you to know. Needed you to understand that whatever happens with Montreal, with the team, with anything – you're it for me. You're my person. My only person."
"I love you too," I said, the words coming easier than I'd expected, like they'd been waiting all this time to break free.
"I've been fighting it for so long, telling myself it was just attraction or nostalgia or proximity. But I love you. Completely. Desperately. Against all my better judgment and professional ethics.”
He laughed, the sound rough with emotion. "Against your better judgment?"
"Well, you are still a pain in my ass. Do you know how many carefully worded statements I've had to write about your penalty minutes?"
"But I'm your pain in the ass," he said, pulling me closer, hands spanning my waist.
"Yeah," I agreed, standing on my toes to kiss him softly. "You're mine."
The kiss deepened naturally, as if our mouths were made to fit together, our breaths synchronizing into one rhythm.
I could feel Cam's heart pounding against my chest, echoing my own rapid pulse.
His hands, strong and confident, slid down my back, tracing the curve of my spine and sending wave after wave of anticipation through me.
His body, his breath, his scent were completely intoxicating.
We stumbled toward the bed, our bodies pressed tightly against each other, robes falling away.
Cam's eyes never left mine, the intensity of his gaze making my breath hitch.
He reached for the hem of my Slashers jersey, slowly pulling it up and over my head, his knuckles grazing my skin and leaving trails of fire in their wake.
He tossed the jersey aside, his eyes widening in delight as he took in my teal bra – team colors, a little surprise just for him.
"Perfect," he murmured against my skin as he dipped his head and left a trail of kisses from my now-exposed collarbone down, down, between my breasts.
His fingers traced the edge of the lace, a feather-light touch that made my nipples harden in anticipation.
He leaned in, his breath hot on my skin, and licked one taut peak through the fabric, drawing out a gasp from deep within me.
He took his time, lavishing attention on each breast, his tongue and teeth teasing me until I was arching into him, desperate for more.
Until I could feel the hot dampness between my legs, my body aching for his touch.
With a swift motion, he unhooked my bra, freeing my breasts to his hungry gaze.
He cupped them, his thumbs circling my nipples, making me moan with pleasure.
I reached for his pants, my fingers fumbling with the button in my haste.
He helped me, shrugging out of them quickly, revealing the spectacular hard-on that had been pressing against me.
I wrapped my hand around him, feeling the velvety softness of his skin, the rigid heat of his desire.
He groaned, his hips thrusting forward, his body responding to my touch.
We tumbled onto the mattress, urgent and tender. But the desperation from earlier had transformed into something softer, more precious. We lay facing each other, our hands roaming over each other's bodies, exploring every curve
"Nice color choice," he murmured, fingers tracing the lace hearts of my teal panties, his fingers teasing me mercilessly, getting thiiiiiis close to where I wanted them.
"Go Slashers," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, as Cam's fingers traced hearts on my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
His touch was electrifying, awakening every nerve ending, making me hyperaware of his presence, his warmth, his scent – intoxicating and dizzying.
I could feel his breath hot on my neck, his heart pounding against his chest, echoing my own racing heartbeat.
His hands wandered lower, exploring every curve and contour of my body as if it were a terrain he'd memorized but still marveled at.
I could feel the rough callouses on his fingers, a testament to his strength, contrasting with the gentleness of his touch.
My breath hitched as he trailed kisses down my collarbone, his lips soft and warm.
I could feel the dampness between my legs growing, my body ready and eager for him.
"I want you inside me," I whispered, my voice thick with desire.
Fire ignited in his eyes, a raw hunger that matched my own.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine in a passionate, all-consuming kiss.
His mouth moved to my hips, playfully pulling at my panties with his teeth.
Ever so slowly, he began to pull them down, his mouth grazing my skin from my hip to my toes as he did so.
The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pleasure and torment that left me gasping.
With a sense of urgency, Cam's eyes never left mine as he hurriedly removed his own briefs. His desire for me was evident and unashamed, and it sent another wave of heat coursing through me. He lowered himself onto me, his hard, muscular body fitting perfectly against my soft curves.
Cam's gaze locked onto mine, the intensity in his eyes reflecting the deep longing we both felt.
Our breaths mingled, each inhale and exhale a shared, intimate rhythm.
He gently brushed his lips against mine in a tender, lingering kiss that promised more.
I arched my back, my body yearning to be closer, to feel every inch of him.
As Cam entered me, it was with a slow, deliberate movement that made me gasp.
His cock filled me completely as our bodies joined seamlessly, as if we were made exactly for each other.
This was more than physical; it was an emotional surrender, a raw and primal expression of the love we'd been denying ourselves and each other for too long.
His tender touch spoke volumes, whispering promises of forever.
The bond between us was palpable, a frequent and vibrant current that ran through every touch, every glance, every breath.
I could feel his heart beating against my chest, his breath hot on my face.
He made love to me slowly, gently, his eyes locked onto mine.
We moved together in a rhythm that was ours alone, a dance that was both passionate and tender. Each touch, each kiss was a testament to our love, our longing for each other. I could feel my body tightening, my release building with each thrust.
Cam's gaze held mine as we moved together, our bodies synchronized in a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing.
Each touch, each kiss, was a testament to the love we'd confessed to each other.
The room was filled with the soft sounds of our shared breaths, the rustle of sheets, and the distant hum of the city outside.
I could feel the tension building within me, a coil of heat and desire that tightened with each thrust. Cam's hands roamed over my body, tracing familiar paths that lit up every nerve ending.
His lips found mine again, this time in a kiss that was slow and deep, filled with a passion that was both fierce and tender.
"I love you, " he murmured against my lips, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you so much."
The words sent a shiver down my spine, pushing me closer to the edge. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of his skin against mine. "I love you too, Cam. Always."
Our bodies moved faster, the rhythm growing more urgent.
The coil of tension within me tightened almost painfully, and then, with a final thrust, it snapped.
Pleasure washed over me in waves, each one more intense than the last. I cried out, my fingers digging into Cam's muscular triceps as I rode out the storm.
Cam followed soon after, his body tensing as he found his own release. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. We lay there for a moment, our hearts pounding in sync, our breaths slowly returning to normal.
As the haze of pleasure began to fade, I snuggled into the warmth of Cam's body pressed against mine, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the comforting weight of his arm draped over me.
This was where I belonged – here, with him.
No matter what happened with Montreal, no matter what challenges we faced, I knew that as long as we were together, we could overcome anything.
Eventually, Cam lifted his head, his eyes soft with affection and exhaustion.
But exhaustion was winning. I could see it in the way his eyes kept trying to close, the way his breathing was evening out.
"I'm so tired," he admitted, pulling me against his chest. "But I don't want to close my eyes in case this is a dream. In case I wake up and you're gone again."
"It's not a dream," I assured him, pressing closer until there was no space between us, skin to skin. "I'm here. We're here. And I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?" His voice was slurred with approaching sleep.
"Promise." I pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart, feeling it beat strong and steady under my lips. "Sleep, baby. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Did you just call me baby, Cupcake Queen? Now look who's violating the 'ol no pet names rule..." he said groggily.
"Shhhhh."
Love you," he mumbled, already drifting off, one arm locked around me like even unconscious he needed to keep me close.
"Love you too," I whispered back, letting my own eyes close.
The sapphire ring on my finger caught the city lights one last time as I settled my hand over his heart.
For the first time in days, we both slept peacefully, tangled up together in the hotel bed, exactly where we belonged. The Montreal decision still loomed. The scandal fallout remained. The complications with the team hadn't disappeared.
But for now, at this moment, we had each other. We had truth instead of pretense, love instead of fear.
And that was everything we needed for now.