I nod and avert my gaze, but Cam reaches for my chin and tips it up with two fingers until we’re staring at each other.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” he says quietly. “Or this won’t work.”
I clasp my hands together on my lap. “Look, I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing this for me. Obviously, you could be with any woman you choose, and I’m nothing like what you’re used to, I’m sure.”
“No,” he says slowly. “You’re not.”
My heart sinks. “Let’s please just drop this…”
“Savannah, you’re gorgeous. You’re smart. You’re funny. And you’re the best person I know. You’re so far out of my league I can’t believe you’re asking me to play in the game.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re out of mine.” I clench my jaw, and Cam’s fingers gently brush along my skin.
I inhale. “You’ve been with a virgin before, right?”
“Yes. I was one too at the time.”
“Right. But you know how to…make someone who’s not experienced feel comfortable. And I’m pretty sure I’ll need a lot of hand-holding.”
Cam keeps his fingers tucked underneath my chin and looks at me for a long moment. I squirm under his gaze, wondering if he’s going to turn me down quickly or let the rejection drag out like a slow death. I brace myself for either one, so much that I don’t hear what he says next.
“I’m sorry.” I tilt my head. “What did you say?”
His dimple cuts into his cheek. “I said yes.”
Chapter Thirteen
Despite me asking Cam to sleep with me, and despite him agreeing, a week passes without us seeing each other.
The Cannons leave for a road trip the day after we get back. As is customary, I remain in Climax and keep up with things at the office. When I’m not working, I dance and work on sewing my costume for my performance next week. And, of course, I think of Cam.
He’s never far from my mind, and I get plenty of face time, even if it’s all one-sided. Like always, Craig has an online live stream set up for the games, and I watch them. Cam stars in every one, and I hungrily take him in. I don’t have the nerve to reach out to him. Instead, I focus on helping the team keep winning.
I liked the way you spread the offense, I text Craig after game one. The whole team was super aggressive. Cam was on fire tonight.
The next night, it’s the same thing.
You killed them, Coach.
We’ve got a chance at the playoffs, Craig writes back.A real freaking chance. All because of this cocky guy who got demoted to our team. Life’s a bitch, huh?
The freaking playoffs.
The very idea of it feels like a dream. The last time the Cannons made the postseason, my father was by my side, and I was just a kid.
I roll my chair back, kicking something in the process.
I lean down to look.
My shoebox of photographs.
I pick up the box and go to put it away in my drawer. But a photo’s sticking out of the top, and I pull it out.
It’s from the day we made the finals. Daddy’s being carried on the shoulders of his players. He’s got a huge smile on his face, and he’s in full celebration-mode. A cigarette dangles from his left hand—not exactly legal in the arena, but nobody ever told my father no. He’s holding his right hand up in a fist.
I smile, remembering the excitement of it all. In that moment, I thought every practice, every drill, every early morning and late night at the rink with Daddy was worth it to see him so happy. But that good mood of his couldn’t last forever. And when the weather turned from sunny to cloudy in his world…nothing felt worth it.
I place the photo into the trash can, realizing, for maybe the first time in my life, I’m truly having fun on my terms. The Cannons are winning, which is great, but it’s more than that. Between dancing and Cam, I’m taking risks, something I rarely did when my father was around.
