“You’re not difficult,” he said slowly, and when his thumb latched on to my knee, he let out a strange sound. “You can be, though. When you want to. I couldn’t figure out why. But I’m starting to understand. Either way, I’m done doing any of that.”
“You’re… done?” I asked, my voice barely there. Although what was wreaking havoc in my head was the I’m starting to understand. “What about the activity brochure? We’re still signed up for every single thing in there. Have you forgotten that I dragged you down along with me? Because I haven’t.” I swallowed, hard. Hearing how little sense I was making. How… scared I was beginning to feel. “I’d really like for you to remember that.”
“I do.”
He does. He does what? And why is he still so calm? “So? Are you done with that, too? Because a sprained ankle is not going to stop me. It’s not a war injury as much you’re treating it like one.”
Cameron released my knee, and just as I thought he was going to stand up or call me out on the attitude he didn’t deserve, he set his palm on the side of my head.
“You want to play, love?” His voice had a dark edge to it. His fingers flexed. “You want a man that won’t run away scared? A man that’ll leave his bloody skin in the game?” My heart tripped. “I’ll be your man, then.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Adalyn
Cameron’s words haunted me for a full week.
You want to play, love? I’ll be your man, then.
That was what I got for getting… entangled with a high-performance athlete. Not entangled as in me and him but entangled as in me and him working together. And staying under the same roof. And eating together and…
Whatever. It didn’t matter.
What was important here was that as of today, I was continuing business as usual. One week of house arrest had been more than I could afford. I’d already missed three practices and a game—the first the Green Warriors had won.
That was why I was here, walking—or lightly limping—onto the field with a heavy box in my arms. And it was fine. Perfect, really.
As if some kind of bell had gone off in his head, Cameron turned around. Swiftly. But slowly. As if he was some gruffly handsome model in an ad campaign for something like… shavers for men. Because had he trimmed his beard? And when? I’d seen him this morning and all that facial hair had been in its usual disarray.
He shot me an angry look across the grass.
Ah well. Back to business it was.
At least I knew what the scowling was for. Cameron didn’t know I was coming to practice today. Technically, because I should—probably—be resting. That was why I’d called Josie, who had called Gabriel, who had asked his husband, Isaac, to pick me up from Lazy Elk and drive me to town. It was some complicated chain of favors I didn’t understand, but like Isaac had said the moment I’d complained and profusely apologized for being an inconvenience, This is how things work in a small town, honey. He’d also told me to shush it before going into a ramble about how he’d been spending a lot of time in Charlotte for work—because of his useless, turdy boss—and complimented me for my look. Although his words had been I can’t believe you’re making it work, while glancing from my dress shirt to the hiking boots on my feet. I liked Isaac, and I got the impression he’d liked me, too.
Unlike someone currently in the middle of a practice field, surrounded by nine-year-olds and the one seven-year-old in a tutu, and sporting a newly trimmed beard that made him all the more handsome.
Cameron muttered something to Tony, the Green Warriors’ new assistant coach, and stalked in my direction.
My stomach dropped. And it wasn’t with dread. It was with something fuzzy and bubbly that made me feel light despite the fact he was looking at me with murder in his eyes.
“How’s the new hire?” I asked when he came to a stop in front me.
Cameron snagged the box out of my grip with one quick, outraged motion. “Adalyn,” he barked, sounding all angry and… soft. Ugh. I hated when he did that. “This weighs a ton.”
I forced myself to roll my eyes, the bubbly riot in my stomach getting worse by the second. “I know,” I admitted. “And before you ask, yes, I’m here. And yes, I’m fine and ready to work. And no, my ankle doesn’t hurt. And yes, the boots you insist on me wearing all the time are actually, shockingly comfortable for something so ugly. And no, I’m not going to sit this one out or live like a recluse any longer after missing so much time with the team. And by the way? I might return to my cabin today.”