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“We’re all getting ready for the football game together tomorrow. I’m going over to Joanna’s apartment and hanging out with her and Natalie.” Though I don’t really want to go to the game. Why sit there and watch Cam the entire time while I’m still angry with him? I’ll just end up frustrated, like usual.
But I’ll go. There’s no way in hell I’m going to miss that game. I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment or however that old saying goes.
“That’s so nice, that you two are friends. And I’m glad your brother is happy. That he’s finally found someone.” Mom ducks her head, like she’s trying to peer inside my brain, and my smile freezes on my face. “What about you? Have you met anyone yet?”
“Nope,” I say with a finality that feels downright ominous. “No one worthy of my time, at least.”
Mom frowns. “Oh, that’s too bad.”
I offer her my first real smile of the day. “Yeah. Isn’t it?”
* * *
The game was an absolute nail-biter.
It took everything in me not to overreact at certain moments. Like when Cam got sacked. Or when he threw that interception that had the entire side of our stadium gasping out loud—including me. He never let any of it get him down, playing with a determination that was nothing but admirable. All while I sat in the stands silently willing him to look in my direction at least once. He knows where I usually sit. We’ve made eye contact before when I’ve been at a game.
But he doesn’t look in my direction. Not even once, and it quietly kills me. Though I’m trying my best to understand. The weight on his shoulders, the pressure he has to deal with trying to win this game—I know he needs to focus.
By the time the game is over—they pulled out a win at the end, thank God—and we’re let out on the field, I go in the opposite direction of my friends. Joanna goes in search of my brother. Natalie is just out there for a good time, not caring who she’s going to run into. While me?
I’m in search of Cam, even though I don’t want to be. Even though I tell myself it’s a big mistake, talking to him. It’s as if my body has a mind of its own, seeking him out when I mentally tell myself I need to get off this damn field.
My body doesn’t listen, honing in on his location as if I’m using GPS and he’s the item that’s gone missing. I come to a stop a few feet away from where he’s standing, giving an interview with a gorgeous blonde holding a microphone to his face with the ESPN emblem on it. He’s talking about the game, his deep voice rumbling, drifting toward me, and I watch and listen, my entire body aching to give him a hug. Congratulate him on a game well-played.
At one point during the interview, I must catch his eye because he does a double take, though that’s his only visible reaction. Once their chat is over, the reporter fawns over him for a bit before she finally takes her leave, in hot pursuit of some other football player. Cam remains standing where she left him, his helmet dangling from his fingers, looking at a loss.
Sighing, I approach him, noting how much bigger he looks when he’s in his full gear. The pads bulk him up, and the dark slashes still painted under his eyes are giving warrior vibes. His white uniform that they wear for home games is streaked with grass and dirt. I swear I even see a couple of drops of blood on it and I can’t help but worry that it came from him. Is he hurt? Does he even realize it?
God, I really need to stop worrying about this guy.
“Blair. Uh, hey.” He scratches the back of his head, and I sort of wish I could smack him at his greeting.
“You sound surprised that I’m here.”
“I am.”
“I had to come to the game. My parents are in town.”
“I heard. In fact, I’m…supposed to go to dinner with you all tonight.” He winces and seems to brace himself for my reaction.
“Are you serious?” He has got to be kidding me. I don’t want to spend the next couple of hours listening to my parents drill Cam for information, and he and Knox act all nonchalant about their lives while I’m sitting there in silence, suffering.
That sounds like my own personal hell.
He nods. “They invited me and I couldn’t turn them down. Your dad is willing to give me some advice, and I need as much as I can get.”
“About what?”
“The draft.”
Oh. Right. When he moves on and lives his life without me.
“Look.” He glances around, as if he’s checking to see who’s paying attention to us before he takes a step closer, his voice lowering. “I’m sorry about what happened.”
I tilt my head back, staring into his dark eyes. “Oh yeah?”
He nods, his expression grave. “But I gotta be real with you.”
