I buried my face in his neck, fingers fisting in his T-shirt as if I could anchor myself there. My voice came out broken, words tripping over each other before I could organize them. “He made me pay,” I said. “And I don’t even care about the money—I want to pay, I do—but he always does this.”
Cam’s arms tightened around me, steady and sure. He didn’t interrupt. He just let me keep going.
“I—I need to talk to Dr. Hale,” I managed.
“Your therapist?”
I hesitated, fear spiking again. “Will you come with me to see him? Can we… can we do this together?”
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands warm on my jaw, thumbs brushing my cheeks. “Yeah,” he said without hesitation. “Of course I will.”
“I love you,” Cam said.
Something in my chest cracked open at that. I wanted to say it back. The words were right there, heavy and terrifying. I couldn’t answer. Not with words. But the truth of it was deep in my bones, and I pressed closer to him, hoping he could feel it.
“I need to fix everything,” I whispered. “I need help. I want to love you openly. I want to stop being afraid all the time.”
Cam kissed my temple, my hair, my forehead, as if he was sealing each confession in place. “Okay, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “I’ve got you. We’ll figure it out. Together.”
SIXTEEN
Cam
Even in a packedvenue filled with the elite of the Harrisburg sports world as well as politicians, including the governor, I always looked for Jari.
I did my best to not make it seem as if I were ogling him. Hell, I averted direct eye contact as much as possible just in case the roaming reporters—a select few I knew to be either queer or allies—roamed the beautifully decorated Pickering Mansion. We’d been having the fall ball here for over five years. It was a glorious place, 1920s grandeur with a Tuscan vibe. Grand staircase for the rich and powerful to glide down after being announced by a footman, walls of glass in the huge conservatory ballroom overlooking the Susquehanna. It was right out of the showGilded Ageonly modern times. Despite all the glitter and crystal chandeliers, men in tuxes and women in flowing ballgowns, nothing compared to Jari Lankinen in his new formal wear.
He seemed at ease for the most part. We’d had one hell of a couple’s session—I was still processing the fact that he and I were now a couple at least in his therapist’s office, so yay for small steps—last week. It had left him vulnerable but seeminglymore resilient. It had left me deeper in love and with a burning wish to punch Aarni Lankinen in the face repeatedly. The man was a vile excuse for a human being. I mean wow. My uncle was a bastard, no doubt, and had pushed his son far too hard to be something he wasn’t, but Kirby’s dad didn’t hold a candle to the sheer malevolence of Jari’s dad. I mean you had to sink pretty low to beat out my uncle, but Aarni was certainly the king of the slurry pond.
I had spent a sleepless night after that session, telling myself that hopping on a jet to Finland to beat the snot out of my lover’s father was a bad idea. As was hiring someone to do it for me. The second option had merit, but I didn’t know anyone offhand who knew people. The kind of people who would shove Aarni in front of a train. It had taken all my self-restraint, a call to Doc G, and half a chocolate layer cake to get my savior complex in check. If this kept up I wouldn’t fit in my uniform come February. Which was another worrisome thing to fret over but not now. Now Jari and I were together, secretly still, yes, but together. He spent most nights in my bed. He spoke of coming out in some far-off dreamy way a child does of being a circus horse performer. As if it were a dream too far from their concept of reality to ever come true. I refused to push. He would work it out in his own way and in his own time with me at his side. Not saving him but standing with him. Man, it was hard.
“I’ll take a slice of that coconut cake, please,” I said to a waiter passing by with desserts for the guests. He slid me a plate then rushed off. Standing by the tables lined with donations that were to be auctioned, I picked up the gold-plated fork and cut off a wedge of cake. Chewing gently, I realized I had lost track of Jari. Noah Gunnarson was here with his boyfriend as were his fathers, all seated with Tennant and Jared as well as a few other Railers. Many of the Iron Horses had flown in to give their support and their checks, as well as a few of the Express players.
“Buddy, you eating cake?” I glanced to my left to find Yanni—all dressed up with a pretty blonde bombshell on his arm—grinning at me. He patted my still flat stomach. “I thought you were averse to all that processed sugar and flour.”
“Mm, well, it’s a special event,” I said around the cake in my mouth.
“Looks like a successful night. I told Jerry that he best show up or I’d fill his cup with bukovo the next time I had the chance.” I snickered. Yanni was known to fill cups with a wide variety of stuff none of which were pleasant. Jerry Langton, our second baseman, not only was here, but he’d also donated one of his gloves and had sent us a large check.
“Jerry’s cup is safe. He showed up big time,” I told my catcher. “So, who is this lovely lady?”
As Yanni introduced me to Kymberly—an influencer on IG who told me I needed to use more moisturizer to counteract my age lines—I spied Jari taking a seat with his teammates. His gaze met mine. We exchanged nods. It sucked. I would never say that to him but not being able to be with him all night as his date was harsh.
This was where Jari and I were. We were moving through our days pretending life was good but one wrong look caught by a press member could cause trouble. So, we played the roles of being renter and landlord in public, while privately we were so deeply in love it fogged the mind.
“Hey, the auction is over now, and the dancing is starting. You ready to dance or are you too smitten?” I blinked out of my murky thoughts and looked at Yanni. “Smitten. With your cake?”
“Oh, right. The cake. So much coconut. Yeah, dancing. Excellent. I need a partner. I came stag.” Yanni pushed his date at me while plucking my cake dish from my hand. I smiled down at Kymberly as I led her out onto the dance floor. Mygaze darted to Jari watching us then came back to my dance partner. She rambled on about my skin and her lip injections which she suggested I get as my lips were flat and not at all pouty. I nodded, made the right noises and led her away from Jari. If I couldn’t see his table, I couldn’t see him. Avoidance. A recommended way to handle a problem.
Not.
It was wellafter three a.m. when we arrived home.
Snow was falling at a gentle rate. Just enough to make things slippery. Jari and I stood outside the pool house, staring at each other.
“You look tired,” I whispered as if anyone could hear us. They couldn’t. The only ears were ours, the only eyes the security cameras which I had made sure to steer us out of view of before we possibly kissed. “Would you like to go to bed?”
“Your bed, yes. Tonight was… long.” I brushed a flake from his nose. “Seeing you dance with all those women when you should have been dancing with me was fucking awful.”
