Page 26 of Chasing Clouds

“That’s how long I have until I report to offseason training camp. Once I leave, we can figure out the details then—quietly.”

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in this position.” She frowns.

“Don’t be. I went into this willingly, and besides, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I think spending two months with you could be fun. I mean, why wouldn’t it be? I train a lot—football is my life—but we have nowhere we need to be, and it’ll give you some time to figure things out.”

“I really do need time.” She breaks eye contact with me and looks at the ground, and that’s when I see it: she feels alone, and what she really needs is a friend.

Moving to stand in front of her, I throw my hand out to shake hers. Confusion slips onto her face, but she slides hers into mine. “Hello, my name is Reid. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

She laughs and my chest tightens.

“Camille. It’s nice to meet you too.” Her blue eyes lock onto mine and tingles race up my arm from the hand touching hers. “So, we’re going to do this?” she asks, looking at me with a mixture of wariness and awe.

“Seems like we already are.” I should let go of her hand, but I don’t. Instead, I step closer and link our fingers together.

Tilting her head to the side, she looks at me—really looks at me. “I know why I am, but why are you?”

That’s a good question, and I can’t answer it. Shrugging my shoulders, I answer her with a smile and throw out another idea with a hopeful expression.

“I know this might sound crazy, but what do you say about going on a honeymoon?”

SOMETIME DURING THE night, Reid’s car and things were dropped at my house. In less than an hour, he’s changed into a worn pair of jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and athletic shoes. I have my bags packed, and we’re on our way. Although we’re calling this a honeymoon, we both know what we’re really doing is running away. I’m running from my father, Patrick, and years of passive aggressive comments, but I’m not sure what he’s running from, unless he’s just running from my father too. The thought makes me giggle, and he glances over at me.

“What?” he asks, his lips curling up along with mine.

“Nothing, I just think we’re crazy.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” His left hand stays on the wheel as his right stretches out to grasp the headrest of my seat. Blues music plays through the speakers, and though I haven’t given any thought to the type of music he listens to, this was unexpected. It’s nice, and it suits him.

“I feel spontaneous and reckless. This is so not like me,” I tell him. It used to be, but I haven’t been that girl in a long time.

“Really? What are you like then?” His hand slips down to the back of my neck and his fingers tangle in my hair. I’m surprised by this, and then not at all. We don’t know each other, but since he found me in the library, it’s been so easy to touch one another, and I like it.

“Boring. Predictable.” I rub my hands down my thighs. Knowing we were going to be in the car for several hours, I threw on a pair of jeans and a large, loose T-shirt that likes to slip off one shoulder.

“Ha, I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, as adventurous as you’re feeling and all, but we’re headed to my place, and other than the view, I assure you it’s very boring.”

His place. For all intents and purposes, he’s a stranger, and I probably shouldn’t be traveling five hours away from my home to go to an unknown place without any form of transportation to escape by. Strangely enough, I’m not nervous, not about him at least, more just about the uncertainty of what happens next—next in my life, next in my career, next with my family, and next with him.

The ringing of his cell phone blares through the speakers, and on the console it flashes the name Mom. He winces, removes his hand from my neck, and then glances over at me as he picks it up through Bluetooth. I miss his warm fingers.

“Hey, Mom.” There’s affection in his tone, and I smile to myself. There’s something about a guy who loves his mother; it’s endearing, sexy.

“I’ve waited two hours. Two. Hours, Reid, and I can’t wait any longer. I know you think because I’m almost twice your age I don’t understand technology, but I do. Twitter alerts about you have been going off all morning, and it seems the world knew you got married before I did. Married, Reid! Explain.”

“First off, calm down. Second, say hi to Camille. She’s sitting next to me in the car and you’re on speaker.” He glances at me, his face filled with apology.

“Good morning, Camille. From the posted pictures, you looked beautiful yesterday. Too bad my son didn’t invite me!”

“It’s not like that.” He lets out a sigh. “Look, we didn’t plan this. Without getting into all the details, just know this is temporary and a means to an end.”

“For who?”

“For me, Ms. Jackson.” I can’t sit here and say nothing while she berates him. “Reid is helping me, and I’m incredibly grateful.”