The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(124)
Either way, I was happy. We were happy. I didn’t regret cutting ties with the Miami Flames—not even when David seemed to be earning a reputation for making bad choices and the club might be paying the consequences. There was a piece of my heart that would always belong to the Flames but I wasn’t looking back. The MLS was behind me, and Cameron and I were developing talent. It was the most gratifying thing either of us had ever done. We were based somewhere between Green Oak and Charlotte, and we had kids coming from all over the area, rural and urban. It hadn’t been easy to build something from scratch, but we were both as hardheaded as we were driven. With that and the contacts Cameron and I had in the industry, the club had taken off relatively quickly. Now the goal was growing enough to cater to professional leagues.
There was a long road ahead, and starting over was terrifying, but my life had never been fuller, richer, or simply better, than right now. It was because of this venture and the community that claimed me as theirs, but it was also because of the man I had by my side. Providing a kind of safety I hadn’t known before him, and making every step of the way a little less scary and a lot less lonely.
Because with Cameron, I didn’t know loneliness. With him, my sharp edges didn’t matter, I was loved and appreciated and cherished not in spite of them but because of them. And I couldn’t have been happier. Luckier. Loved him any more. I reminded him every day. Every night. Every chance I got.
Cameron lifted his hands in front of him, pinned me a challenging look, and made a come-at-me gesture.
Cocky, competitive man. I loved that he was mine.
I smiled my biggest smile, my Cameron smile, and continued my trajectory, juggling the ball in my feet as I ran. In sneakers, by the way. Cameron widened his stance, his eyes zeroing in on me as I entered the penalty area.
Someone from the stands screamed, “GO, LITTLE SIS! KICK HIS ASS!”
Josie. My chest warmed. She’d become such an important part of my life. My confidant. The person I didn’t know I needed until she all but appeared out of thin air. Dad had tried to make amends with both of us throughout the last few months. And while we were still reluctantly processing everything, especially Josie, we’d found some peace in the knowledge that he was at least trying.
Cameron stepped forward, his body locking into a position I knew was all technique and prowess. It said, showtime. I narrowed my eyes at him, focusing on my aim as I whirled for the left—his weakest angle. He smirked at that. So I threw my leg back, my own smirk shaping up. And kicked, shooting for the top corner of the net.
He jumped, lunging his body into the air with his arms up, just like I’d seen him instruct the kids so many times in the last months. The display was unnecessary, considering the speed the ball carried, but it was beautiful. Powerful. Hot. Extremely so. Because it was him, sure. But because he was not letting me win. Cameron never let me win. And I loved that about him.
His palms blocked the ball. And when he landed on the ground with the sphere clutched against his chest, he did so smiling. Grinning. He looked up, sending me an impressed glance from the grass and winked.
Oh boy.
The crowd, which consisted of the club’s kids and their families, cheered from the stands.
Tony, who juggled college and a job as assistant coach with us, clapped from the sidelines before jogging in our direction to retrieve the ball and get it signed by everyone on the staff.
“Good save, Coach Chamomile!” María, who had come down from Green Oak with Robbie, hooted. I turned, immediately spotting her. She’d grown since last month, when she’d come over for a girls-only sleepover with me, Josie, Willow, and Pierogi. She waved at me. “I was just being nice!” she shouted before turning around and pointing at the back of her shirt. It read TEAM ADA and it had a selfie of me and Brandy stamped on it. “I’ll always root for the girls’ team.”
Laughter rolled off me, remembering the day of the picture. We’d been saddled with babysitting Brandy for a weekend. If there was one goat Cameron was reluctantly tolerating, it was Brandy.
As if summoned by my mind, Cameron’s arms snaked around my waist. I immediately relaxed against him, and he nudged the side of my neck with his nose.
“That was an excellent shot, love,” he said against my skin.
“Oh, I know,” I admitted. “I’ve been practicing with Tony. Watching tape of some of your old games to learn how you react. Just for this.”
Cameron’s head snapped up. He met my gaze, the green in his eyes darkening. “That’s incredibly arousing.”
My stomach fluttered. But I shook my head. “How’s that even possible?”
“Anything that involves you turns me on,” he countered. It wasn’t a lie. I knew that. And he wasn’t the only one feeling that way. Him touching me right now, with his arms around me, his scent deliciously floating into my lungs, the feel of his body standing so close, it was all making my blood swirl. His tongue peeked out, and he wetted his lips. “Do you think we could sneak out without being noticed? Let’s say… right now?”
I’d love nothing more. “We’re in the middle of a party,” I said, a little too breathlessly. “We literally kicked it off just now, and we’re supposed to make speeches.”
Cameron hummed deep in his throat. “How about in ten minutes?”
I let out a laugh.