A strange sound left her.
My eyelids shut. “For a second I thought I was dreaming. But then the guy moved, and I knew, someone had broken in. And was in my room. By my bed.” My whole body started to shake. It wasn’t as bad as it had been at first. But every once in a while, I still got the shakes. “I didn’t even know how long the intruder had been in my room. Minutes, hours, the whole weekend I’d been away? I…” My words dried out. My vocal cords were not working anymore. “Fuck, I—”
I was tackled.
So hard I stumbled back into the counter. Arms came around my torso, meeting at my back, and I was squeezed. Hugged. As hard and tight as I’d ever been. A broken laugh left me as I threw my own arms around Adalyn’s shoulders and brought her even further into my chest. As much as I could. I would have burrowed her inside me if I’d been able to. That was how good it felt to be hugged this fiercely by Adalyn Reyes.
“So this is what it takes, huh,” I said, more to myself than her. I let my chin fall onto the top of her head and allowed myself to be comforted in a way I hadn’t been since the events of that night.
Time ticked by, and with every passing second in our embrace, something heavy settled in my stomach. It should have made it better, having this woman I wanted, needed, craved, in my arms. But it didn’t do just that. It also solidified one of my biggest fears after that night.
“What if I’d had a family in the house? A wife? Kids? What if…” What if you had been in my bed? “What if I’d had someone other than Willow and Pierogi in the house?” I was barely able to swallow the clog in my throat. “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything, Adalyn. Not a single thing. And it would all have been because of me. Because of some career I chose when I was boy. Because of a life I chased because of my own pride. My family wouldn’t want for anything, but what kind of life could I provide them with?” My breath turned ragged. “The guy, he was some crazed fan who was taken away and dealt with, but what if someone else comes along?”
Her arms squeezed harder around my waist. “It would have never been your fault. You aren’t responsible for somebody else’s actions. Not even when they claim they do it out of love or adoration or awe.” Her voice cracked. “You’re not responsible, Cameron. You hear me? You’re not.”
I let myself take a deep breath, probably the first one in a while. I filled my lungs with her scent, and fuck, it felt so good. So right.
Adalyn extricated her head from my chest and looked up. “You must know that I would have never said anything,” she said, brown eyes shining with emotion. Guilt. “I swear to you Cameron, when I threatened to expose you to the whole town I—” Her voice broke off. “God, I am so sorry. I—”
“I know,” I told her. And it dawned on me, just how certain I was. Had been. “I know now, okay?”
Her eyes kept twinkling with unshed tears, and I swore that if she cried right now it’d break me in half. “I must have made you feel so unsafe. And you must have really hated me. Why didn’t you leave?”
“I’m one stubborn motherfucker,” I said honestly. “I told you I was proud. And selfish.” My throat worked, and I brought my hands up and down her back, comforting myself more than her. “And I didn’t hate you. I could never hate you.” Her face softened, even if only slightly. It brought me relief. “I was no angel, either, love. I treated you like shit. Said things I shouldn’t have and never meant. I was mean to you.” My hands closed around the fabric of her shirt. “And I hate that I was.”
Adalyn released me then. She took a step back, and the absence of her felt like a punch to the gut.
“That’s okay,” she said, catching me by surprise. “You had good reasons to do all that.”
My stomach dropped with some sense of relief, because she wasn’t running away from me, but also with something I didn’t like. Why wasn’t she tucked in my arms? Why was she physically removing herself from me?
“I deserved it, honestly. What matters now is that you’ve forgiven me.”
I felt myself pale. Deserved it? “Adalyn—”
“I’m going to run to the restroom, okay? I’ll be right back so we can eat.” She made herself smile. “I’m starving and I’m under the impression that lasagna might have come right out of Nonna’s recipe book.”
It did. It was the ragù she prepared when I was a boy.
But before I could utter a word, she was walking away, and I was watching her leave. I started after her, then stopped myself. I’d give her the minute she so clearly needed.
On the island, my phone pinged with a notification.
An email from Liam.
I started putting down the device, but something caught my attention. Miami Flames.
I unlocked it and opened the email.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Miami Flames interest
C – Remember I put out some scouts to spread word around that there was MLS interest in you? Not a rumour anymore. The Flames seem to be looking for a big name for sporting director. Scouts claim it’s to either fix media mess (link below) or cash in on attention. I think it’s something else. Either way, big cash. Interested?
L.
PS: RBC is growing restless, you have until end of October to decide. Stop being a wanker and take it.
I immediately clicked on the link.
A video popped open, starting without me hitting play.
A woman entered what looked like the Flames’ Stadium, stomping her way to one of those mascots shaped like a bird. Someone said, “Are you recording this?” And the camera moved closer, fully catching her face.
All the blood in my face dashed to my feet.
Adalyn.
Then it dashed right back to my head, making me see red.
“What the fuck.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Adalyn
When I returned to the kitchen, I found a very different Cameron than the one I’d left there.
This one wasn’t looking at me with all that softness and vulnerability that had made my chest hurt. This Cameron was mad. Upset.
Disconcerted.
“Adalyn,” he said. That was all. Just my name.
I came to a stop. My gaze roamed all over his face, his stance, the kitchen, looking for an explanation. Had I done something to cause this? Minutes ago, I’d run into his arms because I hadn’t been able to help myself. Because I’d felt so horrible at the idea of having used something so painful against him that I would have cracked in two if I didn’t make sure he knew how sorry I was. Minutes ago, he was calling me love and telling me he’d hated being mean to me in the past. Cameron didn’t know that I was used to not being wanted in places, I was used to imposing myself on people’s lives and situations, with only a few exceptions like Matthew or my mother.
Cameron lifted his arm, making me notice the phone he was gripping in his fist. “What’s this,” he ground out, not even formulating the question.
A nanosecond was all it took me. Just a glimpse.
I had been mentally preparing myself for this, for him finding out, ever since that conversation with Diane and Gabriel. After I learned that Cameron hadn’t known about it and apparently hadn’t been curious enough to google me. But most of all, I’d been dreading this moment for the last few weeks. Days. It had been hanging over my head. I knew that Cameron was eventually going to see it.
But that didn’t mean I’d been ready.
All the warmth in my body left me, and I was sure I wobbled a tiny step to the side, because the storm of emotion in Cameron’s eyes wavered for an instant. He reached for me.
I widened my stance. I shook my head and told myself to stand straight. What was that thing Cameron told the girls? Soldier on.
“I think it’s obvious from the clip,” I told him. “Did you watch the whole thing?”