“The reporters were mean.” That damn pout of his comes out and it pulls a smile out of me involuntarily.
“Those assholes are always mean.” I clap him on the shoulder and steer him away to the players’ parking lot. I’m not worried about how he answered themean reporters, because not only has he gone through media training that would make a world leader baulk, but he’s never been too bad at it.
“I know,” he grumbles. “I just have to shake it off.”
And he’s great at that too. It’s one of the few things that have actually changed about him in the last decade. He’s still the same guy who loves football and horses, the one I met right before the draft, but now he knows his worth, and I couldn’t be prouder that I got to watch that transformation in him.
He tells me Derek picked him up earlier, so I drive him home and we share a rare forty-five minutes of silence on our long way to the hills where he has his sprawling mansion.
When we get there, we work in tandem in the kitchen making a salad and reheating some chicken his chef left for him, and all the while I wonder exactly how to bring up the subject.
Maybe tonight isn’t the right time?
His eyes are shining with that happy, full-of-life glint again when we’re two bites into our late dinner, and I know I can’t really put this off, because my biggest worry about this plan is something we need to get way ahead of.
“If the offer still stands,” I start off slowly. “Then I’d like to take you up on it.”
He looks confused for a second, but I see he understands when his eyes open wide and a smile takes over his face.
“Really?” he shouts, way too excited.
“Yes, but—” I stop him before he can start a celebratory dance or something. “We’re gonna have to set some rules.” My tone might sound like a warning, but I have to admit I’m smiling too.
There’s nothing I want more in life than to actually find a man to love who loves me for who I am, but I know that if I want that to happen, I need to find a way to finally exorcize Soren’s words from my brain.
This is the first step to doing that.
“What are the rules?” he asks, clearly overstimulated now and almost jumping out of his seat.
“I don’t want my mother to hate me for breaking her favorite person’s heart once webreak up.”
I might sound a bit jealous, and who gives a shit if I am?
Mom’s love for AJ is well documented, and I don’t want it to change, not really, but I also want to be her favorite, dammit.
“Aww.” He drags out the word exaggeratedly. “Mama Jameson is a sweetie pie, but don’t you worry, Cam. We’re gonna make sure she still loves us both when this is done.”
And we better make sure our working relationship and our friendship is intact too.
Since I can’t avoidhim any longer, and I don’t really want to, I invite Morris over for brunch the next day.
Thankfully, he just wrapped up a movie a few days ago, so he has some time to hang out while his husband, Mack, deals with post-production and whatnot.
As a world-class cinematographer, Morris sees everything in a way few people do. He has a true gift—and a couple of Oscars to prove it—but as a friend, he never misses anything, so I’m not surprised when he stares me down at the front door and demands, “Why have you been avoiding me?”
He’s never been one to shy away from tough love either, and that’s probably why I’ve been avoiding him, but now it’s time to lay it all out for him and see what he thinks.
“Because I’m about to do something very stupid.”
I wave a hand so he’ll come in, and he groans as he walks past me.
“You’re not gonna marry some young up-and-coming pretty boy who wants to be a movie star, are you?”
I snort and shake my head.
“No, worse.”
His frown tells me he can’t think of anything worse, but I see it dawns on him that it is worse when I tell him about AJ’s idea.
