I didn’t look up until Cam’s voice cut in. “Hey. I saw Ten follow you out. You need me to?—”
I straightened too fast. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” he said, and didn’t argue. He stood a few feet away, close enough to register, far enough not to crowd me. “I figured I’d check.”
I nodded, throat clenched. “That was… a lot. He said he… yeah…”
“Ten's a good guy,” he said, then hesitated. “He puts a lot of weight on this stuff—the charity, the culture, making sure people don’t get lost in the noise. It matters to him.” His kindness hit harder than it should have. “You don’t have to go back in right away.”
“I’m not running,” I said, sharper than I meant.
Cam’s expression didn’t change. “I didn’t say you were.”
I exhaled slowly, the fight bleeding out of me. “But he's being all supportive and understanding and telling me what he sees in me, and it's too much.” Silence stretched—not awkward. Just space. “Did you know he saved my father's life in the Olympics by covering him when he was at the bottom of a pile, yet for all of that, my father still hates him,” I said finally, words low and rough. “Makes deals so I have to play hockey, tells me to hurt people, Jesus!” Why did that all tumble out?
“‘Deals’? What do you mean?”
Fuck. I never meant to say that. Why in God’s name did I say that? “Nothing,” I blurted because I wasn’t going there.
“Your father is just a man,” Cam said instead. “And you’reallowedto exist without carrying all his hate.”
I looked at him then.Reallylooked.
“Sometimes I don’t know how to do that,” I admitted. “When I talk to the doctor… I’m still seeing him, you know, this morning was session five, I mean, who else needs that much talk, and even then, I can’t make any sense of how I feel.”
Cam met my gaze. “You don’t have to know. You have to keep working on it.”
The quiet between us shifted, punctuated by the distant hiss of the coffee machine down the hall and the muffled sound of voices drifting through a half-open door, and I became acutely aware of how close he was, of the warmth at my side and the way my body reacted before my head could catch up. Everything inside me felt overstimulated and unsteady—relief tangled with gratitude, trust blurring into something sharper—and the ease of stepping forward hit at the same time as the fear of what it would mean.
“Cam,” I said, voice barely holding.
He didn’t move. “Yeah?”
I swallowed. “If I want to kiss you, is that okay? This isn’t about panicking, or needing…” I faltered, the words tangling in my mouth. “I just need to—I want to kissyou. But no one can see, or know, and Ineedyou to tell me if it’s not okay.”
The thought alone made my pulse spike. Kissing him here—where anyone could walk past, where a phone could come out, where a moment could turn into something with consequences—was reckless. Public places weren’t safe. Nothing was ever just between two people. Someone always watched. Someone always talked. And if it got back to my father… if it became another thing he could use…
This was too dangerous. I knew that. I should have stepped back.
I want to kiss Cam so badly.
Instead, I took a half step closer. One kiss. That was all I wanted. Something small. Contained. Proof that this pull didn’t own me.
I reached for his sleeve and tugged him deeper into the shadows, my hand shaking despite my grip.
His answer was immediate. “It’s more than okay.”
The kiss was nothing like the movies. No rush. No crash. Just contact. Soft. Careful. His hand hovered at my waist until I nodded, then it settled there as if it belonged. I kissed him back slowly, learning the shape of his mouth, the way he breathed out when I leaned in. It was the best kiss I'd ever had, and the first time I’d wanted more.
When we broke apart, my forehead rested briefly against his shoulder, the solid warmth of him steadying me. He laced his fingers through mine and squeezed—not tight, just enough to remind me that this was real, and instead of wanting to pull away, I wanted to stay right here.
“Hey,” he murmured. “I’m heading to Greece in two days for a month, with Yanni, we do it every year.”
“Okay,” I said, surprising myself with how steady I sounded despite him telling me I wouldn’t see him for so long.
“I don’t want this to feel like a disappearing act,” he added. “Can we text? Is that okay? Call. Whatever pace you want. I'd like that. More kisses when I come back, maybe we can go on a date. I don't know if you're out, but…”
“Not completely, people know, but I've always dated women, and…” I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “I'd like a date if you don't mind spending time with this messed-up hockey player who has issues.”
