The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(16)

All the blood seemed to leave my face. “U10?” I thought I whispered, but my ears were ringing, and I suddenly felt faint. Josie’s smile fell. “What do you…”

And before the question fully left me, we were being swarmed by kids. Children. Little girls. In colorful shorts and sneakers and ponytails that pointed in all directions and a tutu, shockingly enough. One of them held a soccer ball under her arm. And all of them looked, roughly, under the age of ten.

“Adalyn,” Josie’s voice made it through the haze of confusion and disbelief that was my head. “It is my pleasure to introduce you to the Green Warriors.”

I blinked at the team. The kids. As they blinked at me in return. “But my father…” I started, but all I could come up with was a jumbled mess of questions. “My father never—This is not—Why—They’re kids?”

Somehow, my eyes ended up on Cameron, who was looking at me like I was some puzzle he couldn’t figure out. Or as if I was about to sprout a second head. I wasn’t sure. It didn’t make sense. Nothing did. I—

“Juniper,” he called for one of the kids. “Can you please bring an ice pack for Adalyn?”

“I’ll do it!” someone exclaimed, and a blur of pigtails and messy black hair passed right by me.

“Thanks, María,” he grumbled under his breath, eyes still on me.

I should have probably complained. But I didn’t think I had the energy. As I stood in that spotty field of grass, I really was feeling at my lowest. I’d thought that assaulting my team’s mascot in a clear lapse of judgment had been rock bottom. Then, when I found out there was footage of it and the clip had gone viral, I was sure that had been the rock bottom under the rock bottom. But then, I’d been banished and sent away, only to realize I was stuck in some tiny and tacky hunting cottage in the middle of the mountains. And I’d thought, this is it. This is the real bottom.

I’d been wrong.

This was.

The Green Warriors were. This children’s team that held the key to my redemption was my real rock bottom.

The girls moved around us, and I was vaguely aware of Josie interacting with them. My eyes blinked back to reality, and I found myself gaping at Cameron. At all that dark hair, the unkempt beard, the green eyes flashing with something between curiosity and… concern. He was even wearing workout clothes. A long-sleeved thermal that clung to his chest and made his shoulders look even broader, and shorts. Nylon shorts that reached the middle of his thighs.

“What…” I heard myself mumble. “What are you doing here? Why are you here? It doesn’t make sense.” I also didn’t make sense. But I was so confused and blindsided, and my brain seemed set on fixating on the fact. “You’re Cameron C—”

Josie’s panicked face materialized beside Cameron, who was now looking at me with a hostility that hadn’t been there before. “Oh no. No, no.” She chuckled, but there was tension in her voice, now lowering to a loud whisper. “He’s just Cam around here.”

My still dumbfounded gaze flickered in Cameron’s direction, and before I could prepare, he was turning around and walking away.

Josie sighed.

And I… What had just happened? Why was Cameron leaving so suddenly? And why was Josie concealing Cameron’s identity?

But instead of asking any of those very valid questions, I watched him stride along the sidelines of the unkept facilities and asked, “Does he always storm out of places?”

“Don’t think too much about it,” Josie said with a conviction that made me glance at her in surprise. “Cam’s a bit… standoffish, but I’m pretty sure he’ll be back.”

“I genuinely hope you’re wrong,” I blurted out, obtaining a curious glance from Josie. “I fired him for a reason.” I simply needed to decide exactly what that reason was.

She laughed, as if that’d been a joke. Although perhaps it was just the way Josie operated. Maybe she was one of those always glass-half-full people. Always laughing. Smiling. Positive.

“It’s for the best,” I told her. “The dislike for each other is mutual. We didn’t exactly start off on the right foot and he… has a good reason to hate me. I—” I shook my head. “I might have almost run over his pet this morning.” Josie’s eyes widened. “I know. I feel horrible, but it’s not that easy to spot a chicken crossing a driveway.” Neither was spotting a six-something pro soccer player, apparently.

Josie muffled a cackle with a hand, the corners of her eyes wrinkling with humor. “Oh, don’t worry about the poor thing, they are resilient creatures. I’m sure it’s still alive and clucking. Did you see it running?” I nodded and she smiled before pointing at my forehead. “Is that how you hurt yourself? I didn’t want to be rude and ask, but it looks recent, and Cam asked one of the kids for the ice pack.” Concern entered her expression. “You should get it checked out.”

“So I’ve been told,” I whispered, defeat entering my voice.

“I’ll take you to Grandpa Moe when we’re done here. He used to be a paramedic and still volunteers around town sometimes.”

“It’s nothing,” I assured her, wondering what else the man did. “It barely hurts.”