“I thought about what you said, and…” His shoulders lift in a reluctant shrug. “I dunno, maybe you have a point. About us suffering together.”
My smile morphs into a full-blown grin, and I’m filled with more joy than I know is sensible. But I’m not thinking about how bad of an idea this might be, or that we’re going to be surrounded by his family for the entire week, or that Oakley will likely be watching us like a hawk the whole time.
None of that matters if he wants me there—and knowing he does is more than enough to deal with all the rest as it comes.
“That just about killed you to admit, didn’t it?” I tease, still grinning like an idiot.
He rolls his eyes and heads for the door, unamused—or at least he pretends to be as he bites back a smile.
“Just shut up and pack before I change my mind.”
Fourteen
Logan
Oddly enough, my parents didn’t even question it when I asked to get Camden a ticket to New York, though I assume that has everything to do with making sure I’m not a grumpy asshole the entire trip. Small mercies, I guess.
The flight into La Guardia itself is quick and relatively painless, mostly because I make sure Camden and I sit as far from Dad as possible; my attempt at keeping the hockey talk to a minimum. Which works right up until we take the escalator down to baggage claim, finding my brother and Quinton waiting for us.
“There’s the top scorer in the league!” Dad calls out, taking long strides toward the two of them, not stopping until he’s wrapped Quinton in for a quick hug. “Oh, and hi, son. Good to see you too.”
Oakley scoffs, but he’s smiling when he says, “Never in a million years did I thinkyou’dbecome my father’s favorite.”
“And I’m not even his kid,” Quinton teases lightly.
A bitter comment sits on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it down, knowing it’s far too early to start. I don’t miss the way Camden’s gaze finds me after the exchange, though, his features softening with sympathy ever so slightly. But I don’t want hispity, so I roll my eyes and mouth“so it begins,”which thankfully has him cracking a smile.
Once everyone gets their hugs and hellos in—with Oakley making sure to rib Camden about dating his little brother—the six of us head to where their Navigator is parked in the short-term lot. Our flight landing at an odd time of day makes the drive into Manhattan shorter than normal, but it still takes a good forty minutes to go ten-ish miles. And while forty minutes might not seem like a long time, it feels like a goddamn eternity when three people in the car only care to talk about hat-tricks and shots on goal.
All that to say, by the time we’re ascending in the elevator to my brother’s place overlooking Washington Square Park,I’m like a caged animal gnawing at the bars of my enclosure to get the fuck out.
Their apartment looks the same as last year—same floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, and clean, modern lines throughout the whole place. The only thing seemingly different is the Christmas tree near the glass fireplace, Oakley clearly having gone out of his way to bring in a bit of holiday cheer for Mom’s benefit.
Quinton quickly shows Mom and Dad to their room, taking their bags despite Dad’s protest on handling it himself. Meanwhile, my brother is left with Camden and me, the three of us awkwardly standing in the space between their living room and kitchen.
“Nice place,” Camden notes, breaking the silence.
Oakley nods before motioning down the hall. “Thanks, man. The two of you are just down there on the right. It’s the same one you stayed in last year.”
His attention shifts from Camden to me on the last sentence, his expression giving absolutely nothing away. Me, on the other hand? Well, it takes all my willpower to keepmyexpressionneutral as he stares at me, especially after a little jolt of panic shoots me straight in the stomach. Because the room I slept in last year only has a queen bed.
I definitely didn’t think this part through.
It’s not like I can argue to have separate sleeping arrangements when we’re meant to be in a relationship. Which means sharing a room—and a bed—all week. Oh, and with my entire family just down the hall as an added bonus.
What could possibly go wrong?
“Great, thanks” is all I can say in response. “Towels still in the closet?”
“Yeah, you can show Cam where they are,” Oakley says while checking his watch. “But a shower’s gonna have to wait. I got a dinner reservation at this rooftop place Quinn and I love, and we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave in ten.”
“No sweat,” Cam says while grabbing both our bags. His attention slides from my brother to me, and he motions for me to lead the way.
As we head to our room for the week, I do my best to tamp down the panic still causing my stomach to seize—panic feeling eerily similar to nerves rather than irritation. Which isn’t a super new occurrence, though the reason for it leaves much to be desired.
It’s fine. It’s just a week, and it’s only for sleeping.
Camden drops his bag in the corner near the closet, seemingly unperturbed by the situation when he says, “I’m gonna change real quick before we go.”
