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It just means he’ll stay home and watch it on TV. His chances are still really high to get picked.
Right?
“How long ago did he leave?” I ask.
Knox winces. “Two hours ago? Maybe three?”
“Three?” I immediately open my phone and send him a quick text.
Me:Where are you?
When he doesn’t respond quick enough for my liking, dread coats my stomach, making me nauseous. “Shit, Knox. Where did he say he was going to run?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, sending a quick, worried glance in Joanna’s direction. “He was dressed for it already. Didn’t have his gym bag with him but that doesn’t mean anything since he keeps it in his car. I just thought he was going for a quick run around the neighborhood and campus like usual and coming right back.”
“I thought you just said you two planned on spending the day away from each other,” I point out.
An aggravated sound leaves my brother. “I don’t know what’s going on, okay? I’ll send him a text too.”
He does exactly as he says, frowning when he doesn’t get an immediate response either. He lifts his head, his expression somber when he says, “It doesn’t say delivered. Like his phone might be shut off.”
Oh my God. I don’t mean to sound like a stalker girlfriend, but it would be really nice if I had Find My Phone right now so I could track Cam’s every move.
“Don’t freak out,” Joanna tells the both of us, her voice calm. “We know Cam likes to retreat sometimes. I’m sure he’s fine. Probably turned his phone off so he can have a peaceful run.”
“For three hours?” I sound incredulous.
I feel incredulous.
Where the hell is Cam?
As if conjured up by my mere thoughts, the apartment door swings open and there’s Cam. Standing in the doorway clad in black running shorts and shoes, wearing nothing else. His skin glistens with sweat, he’s got AirPods in his ears and he’s holding up his phone, the screen black.
“Sorry, my phone just died.” He slams the door behind him and strides inside, his expression impassive. Normal, neutral Cam. “What’s going on? Why are you all looking for me?”
He cannot be serious.
“I, uh, I just got the call,” Knox admits, sounding nervous. Like he doesn’t want to admit that something really freaking great just happened to him. “They invited me to the draft.”
“No shit?” Cam glances around the room, his gaze lingering on me. “So, you get to be there for the weekend?”
“First day, bro,” Knox croaks, clearing his throat.
“Meaning they believe you’re going to be a first-round pick? Or second?”
Knox nods.
Cam’s gaze never strays from mine as he says, “No shit?” The slightest pause. “Same.”
We’re all silent for a moment, absorbing Cam’s simple statement, the word echoing in my brain.
Same?
Same.
SAME.
“Oh. My. God!” I throw myself at him, not caring that he’s all sweaty. My arms circle his neck and I grab hold of his hair, forcing him to look me in the eyes. “You are such a shit, playing it off!”
