“And you callmedramatic,” Cameron scoffs, walking into the kitchen with Nico and Wes.
“Youaredramatic,” I challenge. “Me being dramatic doesn’t negate you being the biggest drama queen I know.”
Cameron pretends to toss his hair over his shoulder. “That’s right. I am a fucking queen.”
My laughter starts small before overtaking me completely. “I fucking can’t. You’re insane.”
“Makes life more fun,” he winks, pulling a strawberry from the fruit tray Clara brought and popping it into his mouth. My sinful mind wanders to the last time I saw himeata strawberry, and I have to push the thought away. “How are you feeling after our first team practice this morning, co-captain?”
I can’t help but smile. “I’m optimistic. We’ll still need to find our groove, but overall, we looked really damn good today.”
“Agreed. Isla’s backhand when we were taking shots at Lev? Fucking unbelievable.”
“Icy is one of the best women I’ve ever played with. Her and Bet. Always made my job as a left winger easier.”
Cameron cocks his eyebrow at me. “Yeah, I’m sure you needed your job to be easier, Hart. You’re going to be our starting left winger because you’re really goddamn good.”
Nico smacks Cameron’s arm. “What the fuck? I could be our starting left wing.”
“May the best person earn the spot, Bieri,” I bow.
Nico sighs. “He’s right. Even I know that.”
Isla struts into the kitchen and jumps into the conversation. “Join me on the second line then, Nico. No way I’m first-line center when we have fucking Cameron.”
Cameron and I share a knowing smile with each other. This here isn’t just our teammates talking us up.
This is our team showing us their respect. Two former first-line players are accepting and understanding that in this new league, things are changing and adjustments will be made.
And they aren’t even upset about it.
“We technically don’t know yet who is going to be on what line,” Cameron interjects, even though he knows as well as I do that we have a good idea already.
Nico and Isla ignore him.
“You think we’ll have Wes on our line?” Isla asks him.
“Doubtful,” he shrugs. “I think he’s still first-line material.”
“What about Asher? He looked great today at practice. He could be first line.”
“He’s a couple of years younger, though. I do think he’ll earn second line with us, though.”
“Okay,” Cameron cuts in. “We’re here to bond as a team, and that meansno work talkfrom this point forward.” He shouts out to the rest of our teammates. “Come fill your plates, you fucking heathens.”
The rush toward the kitchen is mad, but I miraculously manage to fill a plate and escape unscathed.
Rather than join my rowdy teammates to eat, though, I slip through the glass doors onto Cameron’s balcony, already needing a few moments of peace.
I’m not out there for more than two minutes when I hear the doors slide open behind me. “Seems like we had the same idea,ljepota.”
I really need to figure out how to spell that so I can see what it means. Knowing Cameron, it’s probably some insult that he loves me not understanding.
“My first team dinner, and I already need a break,” I laugh as he comes to sit beside me on his patio bench, setting his plate down on the table in front of us.
“I’d tell you they aren’t all like this, but I don’t like to lie,” he chuckles.
“Seems like it’s really good for team bonding.”
