“Hi, Dad,” I say as I pick up.
“The scout’s interested. Very interested.” My father doesn’t bother to say hello. “He’s coming to the game next week, the one against Colorado.”
Savannah’s father’s team. Should be one fucking fun night.
“Super. Can’t wait.”
My father ignores my sarcasm. He’s too jazzed about the uptick in my play.
“You’re looking more and more like your brother out there, Cam. Dominant. Aggressive. You’ll be asked up in no time. I’m thinking next season for sure.”
“Yep.” Keeping things light between my father and me is the easiest way to go. To give him anything, any clue that I’m thinking of quitting, will just make him more intent on getting me to keep playing.
“And with Declan thinking of getting out, there’s room for another Wild,” he says. “Look at your cousins and how well they’ve done going pro.”
“Dylan and Colton are completely different than me and Declan. They always were.”
“I’ll be there with the scout next week,” Dad says, and I know the conversation is over. “Goodbye.”
Chapter Twenty
Savannah
“You’re getting to be a regular groupie,” I tease Celie as we watch the Cannons battle it out in front of us.
They’re already up six to one, and Cam has three goals.
Celie bounces up and down in her seat. “It’s cold as fuck in here, but I’m so excited you’re fulfilling my New Year’s wish for you!”
“We’re not having sex,” I remind her. “We’re taking things slow.”
“You’re rounding the bases,” she says confidently. “It’s just a matter of time.”
I flush with heat as Cam skates past me. His head is down while he wrests the puck away from the defender and heads for the goal. I can’t wait to see him alone tomorrow.
* * *
“This isn’t a restaurant,” I say as Cam pulls into a driveway the next night.
“It’s a home restaurant. I’m cooking for you.”
“You cook?” I’m lucky if Mama lets me into the kitchen.
“I learned years ago. Come on. I’ll show you around.” Cam turns off the engine and hops out before I can answer him.
As soon as I step outside the truck, the wind is so biting it drives me inside Cam’s house in a hurry. He takes my coat, and as he hangs it up in the front closet, I look around with interest. Cam’s house is cute. The kitchen’s off to the left and the living room is directly in front of us.
“This is very homey. I love it.”
“Thanks. It’s a pretty quick look—kitchen, living room—” He points. “I’ll show you the upstairs, and then we’ll eat.”
I stare at his ass as he leads me up the stairs. His jeans fit him just right, and when he turns to help me up the last step, I fist my hands to stop from touching his chest. The fabric of his shirt clings to his muscles perfectly.
Cam’s bedroom is simply decorated with a king-sized bed draped in a royal blue comforter and backed by a dark wooden headboard with a painting hanging above it. In the corner stands a tall wooden dresser.
“Is that Montana?” I point to the painting of a gorgeous sunset over snow-capped mountains.
He nods. “I bought that painting when I was last out there.”
