The Long Game (Long Game, #1)

His hand cupped my face then, and God. It felt so right. His touch so comforting, so warm in that way that made me feel so alive. I closed my eyes.

His voice softened. “You’re so strong, so fiercely independent, that I want to keep you happy and safe before you have to.” He caressed my jaw. And only then I realized my teeth were clattering with restraint. “I trust you. Not even once have I doubted you’re capable of withstanding a single thing that life throws at you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to stop anything from ever hurting you again.”

My heart pounded recklessly in my chest, reverberating in my temples and head. I closed my eyes, making the effort to pull oxygen into my lungs. In through my mouth. Out through my nose.

That’s what pushes me to want to guard you like a goddamn dog.

In through my mouth. Out through my nose.

I trust you.

But did I trust myself?

I opened my eyes. “You should take the job with the RBC. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”

Another of those strangled sounds left him. And my heart thrummed in my temples now. Take back the words, a voice in my head begged. Take them back. Ask him to go to Miami with you today. Don’t do this alone when you don’t have to.

“No,” Cameron said. Stated. Firmly. Not even a trace of doubt in his voice. Stubborn, hardheaded man. His perseverance only made me want to scream. Cry. Be in his arms. “It was never up for consideration, but now it’s not even an option that would ever cross my mind. I’m not leaving.”

My heart pounded so hard, so loud, that when I said, “Why?” I didn’t think I heard the word. “Why wouldn’t you take it? England is your home.”

Cameron’s jaw tightened. His hand dropped. “Don’t.” He shook his head. “Don’t make me say the words out loud. Not now. Not right before you try to push me away.”

The words.

What words?

The ones that were trying to barge right out of me?

I guessed it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter whatever he thought was being left unsaid. Because as much as I understood why he’d kept this from me, we no longer belonged to the world where nine-year-olds played soccer, where we attended fall fests and shared a cabin.

It was time for me to go back to where I did belong.

At my silence, Cameron’s eyes closed. He only stood there, like that, for an instant. Then, he walked away.

There was a long moment in which the only sound was my shallow breathing and his steps as he moved toward the door. And I kept thinking how much of a mess I’d made for someone who had kept it together for such a long time. For someone who’d been accused of not showing enough emotion so many times.

Let those goddamn smiles be rare as long as they’re mine.

I brought my hand to my chest, failing to soothe the tightening vise squeezing my heart.

“Did you really mean it, love?” he asked, and only then, I realized he was looking at me from the door. He hadn’t left. “When you told me you wouldn’t mind if I was the one to slay your dragons.” Something in me broke. “Did you mean that?”

I had meant it. With every ounce of who I was.

But everything had changed now. This wasn’t about taking his guest room or working with him on the team. It wasn’t about accepting needing his touch. The bubble had burst, the fairytale had torn, and I’d dropped to the floor with a thump. Just like my mother had predicted. This was real life. And my father was selling the club I’d considered home my whole life to the man who’d used me to manipulate him.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE



Cameron


I’d fucked up.

Royally.

I never acted without a reason, without a well thought out plan. But this time I’d made a mistake. Adalyn was right, I shouldn’t have decided what was best for her without letting her have a say in it. Even though all I’d wanted was for her to have this one goddamn thing. Even though I knew her, and I knew she’d sacrifice her own happiness. Go to Miami and fix a situation she wasn’t responsible for.

Those goddamn fuckers were using her like a chess piece in their sick power game. And it made my blood boil.

But as much as I wanted to protect her, I had miscalculated. I’d fucked up. And now, I also knew that I shouldn’t have left the cabin. I shouldn’t have convinced myself that Adalyn needed space. I shouldn’t have left her and hoped for the best. I should have stayed.

Because now Adalyn wasn’t here. She wasn’t coming to the game, and I didn’t know if she was ever coming back.

I looked at my feet, the sound of the gathering crowd and the girls nothing but a low buzz.

I don’t need you to protect me… You don’t trust that I can handle things on my own.

Christ. I’d been such a moron. She believed that now. I’d led her to believe that. Even when all I think is how strong and brave she is. And how I worry about how little she actually needs me.

And now she was on her way to the airport, and I was here, my hands tied behind my back by my own actions. My stomach twisted at the thought of her sitting alone on that plane. Not having anyone to squeeze her hand in case she needed reassurance. I whipped out my phone and opened the flights app, but the reminder of her words brought my fingers to a halt.

You don’t trust that I can handle things.

I’d trust her with anything I had. But would she believe that if I planted myself in Miami? Would she think I was doing exactly what she’d accused me of? Would she tell me I was trying to fight her battles?

I expelled a forceful gulp of air. Shook my head. Locked my phone. I went to put it away but then pulled it back out and unlocked it. “Fuck,” I muttered. “Bloody fucking hell,” I continued, and her face popped behind my eyes. Language, Coach, she’d say with that tilt of her lips. It felt like a blow to my face. “You absolute toad.” I closed my eyes. “How could you lie to her, you—”

“Coach Cam?”

“María,” I said with a shake of my head, steeling myself before turning. “Hey, you called me Cam.”

María shrugged a shoulder. “You’re wearing your special shirt,” she told me, as if that explained why. Fuck, now my chest hurt again. “That’s good. But who is a toad? And who did he lie to?”

I sighed, incapable of mustering the strength to come up with an answer for her.

She narrowed her eyes, but rather than suspicion, she did it with understanding. “Is that why Miss Adalyn is running late? I thought she’d braid my hair again. Like last time.” She pointed at the side of the field where the team was gathering up. “Chelsea brought face paint, so she doesn’t need to use her fancy lipstick to draw lines on our cheeks again.”

“I…” Fuck me. I couldn’t do this. Air was getting stuck in my throat. “I don’t think Miss Adalyn is coming to the game, María.”

“Why?”

“There was an emergency back in Miami, and she had to go.”

María tilted her head. “Why aren’t you with her, then?” she asked. And God. It was such a simple question, formulated with such genuine shock, as if there was no other possibility than me being by her side, that it almost brought to my knees.

I… blurted out nothing but the truth. “I messed up. I made her believe I didn’t trust her to handle things on her own. I…” Treated her like the one man I’d tried to protect her from had. “But she’ll be back,” I heard myself say. “She’ll come back. You guys are still very important to her.”

María stared back at me, while I braced myself. If there was a kid on the team who wouldn’t hesitate to wipe this field with my ass, it was her. And I’d deserve it. I had already deserved every scowl and skeptical look she’d thrown my way for how I’d treated Adalyn at the beginning. And I’d take this, too.

She made a face. Then, tilted her head. “Would braiding my hair make you feel any better?”

I opened my mouth to decline but found myself giving her a nod instead.

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