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The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(102)

Author:Elena Armas

“I… I read about it,” she admitted. “About you, too. A lot.” Her cheeks were pink again, but not with embarrassment. With the opposite of that. And the fool in me thought, That’s my brave girl. But she wasn’t my girl. Not yet. “It was sudden. You had a few more years in you. Goalkeepers usually…” A shake of her head. “I don’t need to explain this to you of all people. But your retirement came as a surprise. I was wondering if there was a reason.”

I felt myself lean back, and Adalyn’s hand fell off my arm with the distance.

I walked to the oven and took out the lasagna. Words were stuck in my throat, but this time it wasn’t because of my reluctance to share, it was because I was readying myself to share this with her. It felt crucial that I did. But it wasn’t easy.

Moments ago, when Adalyn had dodged my question, it had stung. But how could I expect her to completely open up when I wasn’t doing that myself?

I leaned back on the counter, realizing I was somehow holding a spatula.

I dropped it next to the lasagna and braced my hands on the marble.

I closed my eyes, throwing myself back to that night.

“Someone broke in,” I let out with a long, rough breath. “Into my house. In L.A.”

I waited, heard my own words hanging in the air, feeling the usual pressure that came along with the memory. The horrible night. I opened my eyes and looked at her. All the blood had drained from her face.

“To this day, I don’t even understand how it happened.” I let my arms drop to my sides. “It had been the night after returning from a game in Austin. Usually, I left Willow and Pierogi with a neighbor, some old lady who claimed to be an old Hollywood star. I never recognized her from anything but she took good care of them, so I trusted her.” I shook my head. “I’d been tempted to leave them with her an extra night and go straight to bed. I still have—or had—a few years left in me, you were right, but away games were starting to take their toll on me. Thing was, I missed the cats, and was worried about Willow being the pain in the ass she can be, so I just collected them, went home, and crashed.”

Adalyn looked so distraught I had to look away.

“I…” The image of what happened next was as clear as the day in my head. “I think I slept at least five hours before hearing Willow’s loud whining, so I… opened my eyes and saw him there.”

A strange sound left her.

My eyelids shut. “For a second I thought I was dreaming. But then the guy moved, and I knew, someone had broken in. And was in my room. By my bed.” My whole body started to shake. It wasn’t as bad as it had been at first. But every once in a while, I still got the shakes. “I didn’t even know how long the intruder had been in my room. Minutes, hours, the whole weekend I’d been away? I…” My words dried out. My vocal cords were not working anymore. “Fuck, I—”

I was tackled.

So hard I stumbled back into the counter. Arms came around my torso, meeting at my back, and I was squeezed. Hugged. As hard and tight as I’d ever been. A broken laugh left me as I threw my own arms around Adalyn’s shoulders and brought her even further into my chest. As much as I could. I would have burrowed her inside me if I’d been able to. That was how good it felt to be hugged this fiercely by Adalyn Reyes.

“So this is what it takes, huh,” I said, more to myself than her. I let my chin fall onto the top of her head and allowed myself to be comforted in a way I hadn’t been since the events of that night.

Time ticked by, and with every passing second in our embrace, something heavy settled in my stomach. It should have made it better, having this woman I wanted, needed, craved, in my arms. But it didn’t do just that. It also solidified one of my biggest fears after that night.

“What if I’d had a family in the house? A wife? Kids? What if…” What if you had been in my bed? “What if I’d had someone other than Willow and Pierogi in the house?” I was barely able to swallow the clog in my throat. “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything, Adalyn. Not a single thing. And it would all have been because of me. Because of some career I chose when I was boy. Because of a life I chased because of my own pride. My family wouldn’t want for anything, but what kind of life could I provide them with?” My breath turned ragged. “The guy, he was some crazed fan who was taken away and dealt with, but what if someone else comes along?”

Her arms squeezed harder around my waist. “It would have never been your fault. You aren’t responsible for somebody else’s actions. Not even when they claim they do it out of love or adoration or awe.” Her voice cracked. “You’re not responsible, Cameron. You hear me? You’re not.”