“Why doesn’t Nathan just tell him to fuck off?”
Cam raises his shoulders and drops them in a shrug. “I don’t ask. But that’s something you and Nathan have in common if that’ll make this whole partner thing a little easier.”
A laugh of disbelief bubbles up my throat. “Okay, I’m not going to bond with Nathan over our mutual dislike for our parents.”
Cam’s fishing. He’s leaning in closer, the casual remark he’s just made laced with intent. He’s well aware of the bait he just cast—wanting me to bite and tell him that Nathan and I are actually getting on better than I thought we would.
It’s a strange situation.
I no longer feel like Nathan wants to stick forks into his eyes when he’s around me, but there’s still a strange, charged energy in the air when we’re around each other.
I feel uncertain.
Uncertain because I definitely check him out like a friend shouldn't.
Uncertain because I want to learn more about his father and his struggles. Not because I’m being nosy, but because I actually want to understand him.
Uncertain because whenever I see him shirtless, I imagine myself running my hands down his chiselled abs with his lips latched onto my neck.
My body begins to pulse, and my mouth goes dry. I need to change the subject, but Cam beats me to it.
“It was Dad’s birthday the other day.” He says it as if I’d forgotten.
I wonder what he did to celebrate. Stay in and order himself takeout? Hit the club and party with a bunch of strangers? Or maybe he spent it with his new family… the new family I sometimes convince myself he’s found.
“Cam… are you happy without dad?”
My brother immediately tenses up. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows, but I can practically see the frog stuck in his throat, refusing to move.
Our father leaving isn’t a topic we tip-toe around like our mother, but it’s not something we speak about often either. There’s no need—not when neither of us knows where he is or how he’s doing. We mention him casually, but I haven’t flat-out asked Cam how he’s coping with it for years.
“I think there’ll always be a part of me that could be happier with him around.”
I scowl. “You say that like we’re never going to see him again.”
Cam sighs, nervously fiddling with his flannel shirt. “Mae-Mae, he was sick. It wasn’t safe for us. I think we need to accept that sometimes, you can’t help everybody.”
My nose stings, and I rub at it in discomfort. “He’s helping himself. That’s why he left. He has to come back at some point.”
I’m not an idiot, though. I know I’m living in denial, but it hurts less.
My phone interrupts our moment by ringing in my lap, seeming to snap Cam out of his gloomy trance. He clears his throat, gesturing for me to answer it.
I groan at my mom’s name.
She never calls me, so it must be important.
“Hello?”
I immediately pick up on the thick and bitter aura she emits from her end. “Sophia isn’t going to make it to the next game because of her honeymoon, so you’re on.” She releases a grumpy huff. “Don’t mess this up for me, Mae.”
I clutch the phone in my clammy hand.
For some reason, I’m perfectly calm and collected when performing CPR on a dying dog or watching a very risky surgery that could cause a cat to bleed out in seconds. But the thought of getting out and dancing in front of millions of people for a stupid football game frightens the fuck out of me.
Especially because my mom’s making me feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.
“Have you ever walked a dog before?” I ask Nathan with a frown as he clutches the dog leash in hand—as if it’s utterly foreign to him—by the door of the animal shelter, the mud-covered fabric staining his palms. I imagine having something other than a football in his hands is strange.
