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“Cameron. You landed her. Not surprised, you get everything you want, but you don’t have to rub it in everyone’s faces.”

I scoff. “Aw, were you hoping to trade Joey in for Cameron?” I laugh along with everyone else. “Not sorry, buddy. Stick to your creek.”

He rolls his eyes, and I laugh. “What did you do, pay her?”

My laughter dies off as I look over at him. “Excuse me?”

His eyes meet mine, challenging. Little fucker. “No one has landed her. She doesn’t talk to anyone and blatantly ignores everyone. But she answers you? Doesn’t make sense.”

Well, that’s an interesting bit of information. I look at Evan, but he shakes his head. “Don’t ask me.”

“Is it true?”

“Listen, she’s Callie’s best friend. I only care about Callie’s love life ’cause it’s mine.”

Why am I jealous of that? “Have you hung out with her and any guys?”

He chews on his lip, thinking. “Not at all.”

Interesting, indeed. I glance back at Dawson. “Have you met me? I’m awesome. She knows what she’s getting with me. The best.”

Evan snorts at that. “Not that you’re unsure of yourself or anything.”

I would laugh, but I don’t like the way Dawson is forming his lips to speak to me. “Doesn’t make any sense. I’ve been hitting on her since I got here.”

I don’t like that at all. “Why would she settle for a creek when she can have the whole damn ocean?”

Odder snorts from in front of me. “You’re fucking dumb.”

I fight back my grin as Dawson rolls his eyes. “She’ll drop you in no time. I’m not worried.”

“You shouldn’t be worried about me and Cam at all,” I throw back at him, his hazel gaze burning into mine. “Worry about your ice time.”

Before he can pop off like I know he wants to, the arena goes dark, and the crowd loses its damn mind. The girls are introduced, and when Cameron’s name is called, I whistle loudly for her before hollering her name. I can feel people looking, but the only person I want to look at me is her. Cameron waves to the crowd as she runs down the line, smacking hands with her teammates before lining up with them. When she stops shoulder-to-shoulder with Callie, her eyes find mine. I point to my chest and wiggle my pectorals for good measure, just so I know she sees. Her lips curve up in a big way as she shakes her head, and soon I’m smiling so wide, it hurts.

Ahfuckbuddy, I love to make her smile.

Warm-ups go quickly, and the meet starts off with a bang. After the first event, vault, we’re in the lead over Alabama. Cameron doesn’t vault, because, according to Evan, she’s got a back injury or something along those lines. Even so, her bars are stellar, and while I feel she was a perfect ten, apparently I don’t know shit about gymnastics. Not that it matters because the Bullies stay in the lead. When it’s time for beam, a tremble runs through my body since the beam is right in front of us, and that teal-and-black leotard she wears is riding high on those delectable hips. I watch as she doesn’t stop moving. She bounces, she plays in chalk, and she shakes her limbs out. She cheers but doesn’t really watch, just keeps moving. It’s obvious she’s nervous, and any other time, I’d joke about her coming, but her anxiety is giving me anxiety. She’s so tense, I want to reach out and knead her back for her. Kiss that scowl off her beautiful face. Help her. Guarantee her she’s got this.

When it’s Cameron’s turn, her coach talks to her for longer than anyone else. His eyes burn into hers, and her fists clench and unclench. I find that my own heart is pounding so hard in my chest when the coach shakes her shoulders lovingly, and then she steps to the beam.

When Cameron looks up, our eyes meet.

I may be making this up in my head, but I see something move in her gaze. My lips quirk at the side, and I give her a small chin nod, hoping she knows I know she’s got this. She doesn’t smile, but I swear I can see some of the tension leave her body. She takes a deep breath, and my smile grows.

“Let’s go, Cam! You’re a ten, baby!” I yell, and her grin grows as more tension leaves her shoulders.

She looks to the judges, throws her hands up, and soon, I’m sitting on the edge of my seat. Each move she makes is quick and sharp. Aggressive, but graceful. She moves like she’s not on a small piece of wood with nothing but a mat underneath her. Fuck, her confidence is invigorating. Each flip thing she does, she doesn’t wobble on the landing, and when she does one hell of a twist thing, sticking the fucking landing, I come out of my seat, screaming her name.

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