My body vibrates with tension, and the love pouring from Cam is so strong it’s like I can reach out and touch it. And that’s what does me in. The knowledge that he loves me, the way I know it without him even saying the words, activates me in a way I don’t anticipate and can’t explain. All I know is I need to get out. Now.
I shove back the covers and jump out of bed, stalking around the room and picking up my discarded clothes. My movements are jerky and abrupt, my heart stuttering as I shove my legs into my jeans, then replace Cam’s shirt I’m still wearing with my own.
When my phone rings, my head whips around at the sound, my eyes landing on the screen.Brian.
My stomach lurches, my heart twisting painfully as my ringtone reverberates around the room. My throat clogs with tears that want to keep falling, but I can’t come apart here. I won’t. Because if I do, Cam will wrap me in those comforting arms and keep telling me that everything is going to be okay, but he doesn’t understand that I fucked everything up and I don’t know if it can be fixed.
“Fuck,” I mutter, stalking back to the bed and jabbing theIgnorebutton, swiping the phone off the bed and shoving it in my pocket. I cross my arms over my chest and avoid looking at Cam, my posture so ramrod straight that my spine hurts. Aches with the effort of keeping myself together. Because I can’t fall apart. Not yet. Not here. “I have to go. I need to think.”
Cam pushes back the covers and gets out of bed, coming to stand in front of me, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. “Think here,” he says, his voice pleading. “Think with me. This isn’t just on you, Maddy. We’re both in this. We can figure it out together.”
My phone rings in my pocket again, and I flinch at the sound. I want to reach out and grab the wordtogether. Tuck itinto my heart and put my arms around this perfect, amazing man and never let him go. But the alarm that blares in my head doesn’t care what I want. It overwhelms common sense and yells at me to go. Now. To get somewhere where my actions can’t hurt the people I love and no one has to answer for the choices I made. Where I can absorb the fallout and make sure it doesn’t touch anyone else.
“I can’t,” I manage, shaking my head, my gaze bouncing wildly around the room. My chest is tight, head throbbing, brain a messy tangle. “Not right now. Caitlin booked me a flight home in an hour, and I’m going to take it. I need to go home, Cam. I can’t think here, and the idea of getting on the team plane is…” I shake my head, swallowing hard at the thought of facing everyone. I should be stronger than this. Fuck, Iamstronger than this. But right now, I just can’t find my brave. I need to get out of here. “I can’t do it. I just can’t. Please let me go.”
“I’ll come with you,” he says immediately, running the back of his hand down my cheek. “I’ll get permission to fly home separately from the team and come with you so you don’t have to be alone.”
I shake my head even as everything inside me wants to sayYes, please. “You can’t. Both of us not being on that plane is a giant red arrow pointing straight at this entire clusterfuck. Besides, this is a crap time to piss off your coach. I think…” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I think I need to be alone for a while, and you need to go home and focus on Riley and Ethan. Teenagers are the worst, and this is going to hurt them. They need you, Cam. I can’t stand the thought of them being hurt because of me.”
My voice cracks on the last word of my plea, and Cam’s eyes fill with a mixture of pain and resignation that stops my heart. “Okay,” he says, his voice raspy and raw. “Take the time you need, but then I’m coming for you, and we’re going to figure this out together.” He grips my chin and forces my eyes back to his. The blue is dark, a little wild, and the blazing emotion on his face isso intense that I try and look away, but his firm grip on my chin says more than words ever could.
Look at me.
“I love you, Maddy. Fuck, I love you so much. I have for a long time. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would get lucky enough to have a second chance at a love like this, and now that I’ve found you, I am never, ever letting you go.” He shakes his head, laughing a little. “This isn’t how I expected to tell you, but somehow it seems exactly right. You do what you need to do, but take those words with you and know that I’m yours. I’ll always be yours, and there isn’t a force on earth strong enough to keep me from you.”
Cam pulls me into a fierce hug, and I’m helpless to stop the tears that fall as I soak his chest, breathe in his familiar scent, memorize the way his strong arms feel around me, tuck those words away like a talisman. He pulls back, cupping my face in his hands and wiping my tears away with his thumbs. He kisses my forehead, both of my cheeks, whispering words of love before finally taking my mouth in a long, slow kiss that tastes like my tears, full of promises I don’t deserve but I want anyway.
“Will you text me when you get home?” he asks, easing back.
I nod. “I will.”
Seemingly satisfied with that, he lets me go. Walking away is the most counter-intuitive thing I’ve ever done in my life, but the voice in my head telling me to go is loud, and it forces my feet to keep moving. So, with a deep breath, I step back, shoving my feet into shoes and walking to the door. Grasping the handle, I look back at Cam. He’s watching me with love in his eyes, his face set in determined lines. He gives me a small smile and a nod as if to say,Do your thing. I’m right here. And the fact that he can have this much faith in me—in us—even as I head to the door, makes me want to run back to him and jump into his arms. Fling myself at him and never let go.
But I don’t.
Not now.
Instead, I pull open the door and lean out, checking the hall to make sure it’s clear before I realize I don’t need to do that anymore. Everyone knows, and if they don’t, they will soon. So with one last look at Cam, I walk out of his hotel room, carrying only myself and the aching thought that I’m leaving my entire heart behind.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CAM
“Stop touching my stuff!” Riley’s loud screech is followed by the thud of what sounds like a shoe hitting the living room wall.
“They’re not yours!” Ethan yells back. “Lola bought those highlighters for me for my English project, and now the green one is all dried out because you left the cap off when you used it to highlight your stupid script.”
“It’s not stupid,” Riley screams. “You’re stupid!”
I rub my hands over my temples to staunch the throbbing in my head, wondering if my ten- and thirteen-year-olds being unable to find a more creative insult thanstupidmeans I’ve failed as a parent. They should be able to do better than that.
“No, you are and I hate you!”
“I hate you more.”
“Cut it out,” I bellow, stalking into the living room, theI hate you/I hate you moreexchange the absolute last and final straw. Both my kids lapse into silence, gawking up at me with open-mouthed expressions, probably from the yelling. I’m not muchof a raise your voice kind of parent. I learned long ago that I get a lot more leverage out of quiet disapproval than I do out of yelling, but my patience is a very frayed rope right now. “Shit,” I mutter, dropping down on the couch. “Sorry, guys.”
“Why are you yelling?” Ethan asks incredulously, as if I haven’t asked him and Riley to just get along for the love of god no fewer than ten times since they got home from school. He throws himself onto the couch next to me, giving me an epic side-eye that would make me laugh if there wasn’t currently an aching pit in my gut from not laying eyes on the woman I love for four fucking days.
