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I have a hard time not tearing up when Coen walks to the podium. He speaks on behalf of the three surviving players—him, Hendrix and Camden. It’s very moving as he reveals their personal losses and how hard they’ve worked to rebuild the team, all while feeling guilty for moving on. I struggle not to reach for Camden’s hand, but I see from the glow of candlelight that he’s fixated on Coen’s words. It’s more validation to him that survivor’s guilt is a very real thing that can cripple you if you’re not careful.
Gage speaks as well, focusing most of his attention on the amazing things Brienne did to rebuild the organization. He was an integral part of that as a player and now as a coach. His words concluded with a standing ovation for our beautiful and determined leader.
Lastly, Stone wraps up at the podium, talking about losing his brother and taking his place on the team. “It was so confusing,” he admitted to the crowd, “and even to this day, I struggle with gratitude for what I have.”
All these testimonials have been carefully orchestrated to pull at heartstrings and get donors to show their generosity. That’s the entire purpose of this event and everyone knows it. Before the evening kicked off, all guests were provided a QR code on a tiny placard at their seats to download the donations app. As the evening progresses and money is pledged, we have a running tally on the drop-down screen onstage.
As we eat and listen to the speakers, I’m still hyperfocused on Camden next to me. He’s wearing cologne that does funny things to my belly and anytime we grab a moment of conversation, I feel the intensity of his interest in what I’m saying.
After dinner is finished, the party starts. A DJ spins the latest and greatest dance tunes and the parquet dance floor fills. An open bar keeps everyone having fun and the wallets opening wider.
I, unfortunately, have to drift away from Camden and make my circuit around the ballroom to speak to people, accepting congratulations for the appointment to the directorship as well as talking about the importance of the organization. But I always see Camden here or there, chatting with various guests. Our eyes meet and lock, and we have a second or two where messages are exchanged.I can’t wait to spend time with you alone.
Brienne and I bump into each other at the bar as I get a glass of wine and she orders a martini. I can’t help but ask, “Did you have anything to do with a change in the seating arrangements?”
“What do you mean?” she asks, her cool eyes on me.
“Camden got seated at my table.” My tone is droll and she knows I know it was her.
The bartender hands her the martini and she plops a twenty-dollar bill in his tip jar. She merely winks at me and walks off.
I turn to watch her but my field of vision is taken up by Camden standing there. My heart leaps at the sight of him.
He inclines his head and holds his elbow out to me. “May I have this dance?”
CHAPTER 21
Camden
Danica’s head whipsleft and right as she glances around. She looks like the kid who got her hand caught in the cookie jar, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Relax, Dani,” I say, looking around and noting that no one is paying us any attention. “Nobody would think twice about a Titans player asking you to dance. It’s the nice thing to do. We’re all friends.”
It’s funny that I’m the one reassuring her since I’m the person who keeps worrying about how this will look to others. But I decide not to worry about it because right now, I’m simply asking a friend to dance.
She smiles and slips her hand into the crook of my elbow. I lead her to the dance floor already full of couples swaying to a slow song I don’t recognize. I only know the melody is slow and this is the best opportunity I have to get her to myself.
I take her hand in mine and place my other lightly on her hip. All very appropriate. There’s space between us… a purely platonic meeting for two friends on the dance floor. I hate it because I want her to lean into me, place her head on my shoulder and let me inhale her delicate citrus scent.
We can’t do any of that, but at least we’re in our own little bubble and we’re able to talk candidly.
My voice is thick as I casually look around the ballroom and mutter, “I want you to know, that dress is driving me crazy.”
Startled, she glances down between us, as if she somehow lost swaths of fabric or something. Her eyes rise to meet mine. “Really? It covers a lot of me.”
“It covers you in all the right ways,” I counter. “I don’t know if you know this, but whatever that thing is made of shows off your curves to perfection.”
“Aah,” she teases, a subtle play of a smile on her lips. “It’s the whole mystery of what’s underneath.”
“There’s no mystery, Dani.” I lean in slightly and growl near her ear, “I’ve seen every inch of your beautiful body. Hell, licked most of it.” She shudders in my arms and I can’t fucking help myself. “I need to kiss you.”
Danica jumps, looks around. “But… we can’t.”
“Not here,” I agree as I release her but just as quickly, I tuck her hand back in the corner of my arm. “Follow me.”
This is me throwing caution to the wind. I walk casually from the ballroom, not wanting to make a scene. What I want to do is throw her over my shoulder and run her up to her room for a quick fuck, but I’m not asshole enough to do that.
I see the bathrooms down to the left and head that way. We walk past the two unisex doors and take another left. Danica doesn’t say a word, but I notice I’m walking faster and she’s jogging slightly in her sky-high heels.
