I shrug. “She and their other sister don’t exactly advertise that their brother is one of the most famous tech founders in history, but it’s not a secret. To me he’s just Gabe, my nerdy pseudo-uncle. My extended family is made up of nine separatefamilies plus a handful of grandparents spanning two cities. We’re a massive chaotic crew of people who are blood related and people who aren’t, but no one focuses too much on who’s actually related to whom. We’re all just family.”
“Olivia mentioned something about that,” he murmurs, a feeling I recognize well painted all over his face. I may not have felt it since I was a kid, before I came to live with my mom and dad, but it’s not one you forget. Cam might have two kids and a thriving career, and I know he mentioned his mom being part of his life, but despite all of that, he’s missing something.
Cam is lonely.
My empathetic heart aches just a little, and I have to practically slap a hand over my mouth to keep from offering him a spot right in the middle of my own family chaos.
Objective, Maddy.Be objective.
“So how has school been for your daughter so far? Most of her friends must have gone somewhere else.”
“What?” Cam asks, like he lost the thread of our conversation.
“Riley,” I say. “She must not have too many friends from middle school who made the move to Fieldston with her. Is she adjusting okay?”
“So far, so good, I think. Classes haven’t started yet, but she loves the theater and she seems happy, especially now that she got the part she wanted so badly.”
I nod. “That’s really good to hear. I think…” I’m cut off when my stomach lets out a loud growl, and holy embarrassment.
“Hungry?” Cam asks with a broad smile.
I drop my head back and sigh because I can’t even think of a way to be cool in this moment. Or any moment, really, but especially this one. “I was too nervous about my first day to eat this morning.”
Cam shakes his head at me. “Can’t be skipping meals, Wildcat.” His lips twist up in a smirk. “Especially after all the calories you burned last night.”
I groan. “Stop it right now. Last night never happened, okay? It was a moment of pure insanity, and it’s over now. We’re friends.” I shake my head. “No, actually. We’re not friends. Nothing about us is friendly. I’m your psychologist, and you’re my patient. That’s the sum total of our relationship. That’s it. Look. Last night…” I pause and take a breath, wondering if I’m about to admit the truth of how I feel and decide what the hell? Might as well go all in and hope he gets it. “Last night was amazing. Is that what you want to hear? It was the literal actual best sex I’ve ever had. You’re a really nice guy, and you’ve got that whole hot dad thing going on that is so attractive I could die, and I really wish things could be different, but they can’t.”
Cam chuckles. “I mean, you can say it never happened, but last night will live on in my head for all of eternity.”
Cam’s face morphs into the smuggest expression I’ve ever seen, and I roll my eyes, ignoring the fact that I find that particular smug expression unbearably sexy. Fuck me. “I’m serious, Cam. I’m the head of sports psychology for an NFL team. Thefemalehead of sports psychology. There are already going to be people who think I can’t do the job because I’m a woman. Add the fact that my uncle is the general manager of the team, and I might as well have a target right on my back that screamsunqualified nepo baby. If anyone found out I spent the night with one of the players, I would be a joke. No one in this industry would ever take me seriously again. Do you understand?”
Cam’s face turns serious and he leans forward, propping his forearms on my desk. “I really, really do. What you’re doing here? This job? It’s amazing, and I would never do anything to mess that up.” He stands, splaying his hands on the desk and leaning forward. “We can be friends. Psychologist and patient. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. I’m just happy I get to see your face every day. When I woke up alone this morning, I thought I would never get to see it again.”
Bending down, he picks up the bag he brought into my office and sets it on my desk. “I think I got everything right, althoughI didn’t know what kind of cereal was your favorite, so I got them all. Have a great first day, Maddy.”
With a grin and a wink, he turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.
All I can do is stare after him, wondering what the hell just happened, and why I’m already looking forward to it happening again.
CHAPTER FOUR
CAM
“Let’s go Eth!” I call, pounding my fist on the glass as Ethan accepts the pass from his linemate, scooping up the puck as he flies down the ice. The rink air is cold on my face, and the thrill of competition zips in my veins as I watch my son do his favorite thing.
“Oh my god, Dad,” Riley mumbles, ducking as low as possible into her seat on the bleachers at the Pittsburgh Lightning practice arena where Ethan’s team plays some of their games. “You are so embarrassing. Did we have to sit in the first row?”
Chuckling, I stand up and yell louder as Ethan shoots the puck straight over the goalie’s right shoulder. I take this part of my job as a father extremely seriously—the one that says I need to embarrass my kids loudly and as often as possible. It’s remarkably easy to do now that my daughter has crossed over into her teenage years.
“I really didn’t need to be here,” she mutters, practically tunneling her head into the collar of her hoodie, her entire body language givingThis man does not belong to me.
“You didn’t,” I say, dropping down into my seat next to her. “But look how happy it makes your brother that you are.” I gesture to the ice where Ethan gives us a dazzling smile and a wave.
She sighs heavily, giving Ethan an enthusiastic wave back while still trying to pretend she doesn’t know me. The ability of a teenage girl to feel multiple contrasting emotions simultaneously and express them all at once is a true gift I find constantly fascinating. She may be wholly embarrassed by me, but Riley and Ethan are wildly close—their relationship is special and one of my little reminders that while I may feel like I’m failing in any number of ways on the daily in the delicate balancing act of single father and professional athlete, making sure my kids are close to each other is the one thing I am getting consistently right.
“I know,” she grumbles. “I guess I’m glad I’m here, even though what I really need to be doing is memorizing my lines for the play.”
Leaning down, I drop a kiss on top of her head. “You’re a good sister, Ry.”
