The signature line empty.
Waiting.
My chest tightens in that familiar, suffocating way that always signals a decision I don’t want to make.
“And think about it,” Manny continues, softer now. “The moment people see you with someone stable? Someone who doesn’t look like he’s chasing clout or using your fame? It changes the story.”
I hate that a part of my brain immediately supplies the image of Camden Drake. Tall. Controlled. Unbothered.
A man already in the public's eye.
A man my ex idolized.
The thought lands hard, sharp enough to steal my breath for a second.
I look back toward the ERS building, glass gleaming in the sun.
My chest tightens.
“Fine,” I say quietly. “I’ll think about it.”
Manny exhales, relief flickering across his face.
But as I turn away, the image of Camden standing there doesn't leave.
Chapter six
Cam
It’s been two days since that disastrous meeting at ERS.
Two blessed days of silence from my agent.
I’m jogging toward the sideline with a bag of mini footballs slung over my shoulder when the press ambush hits.
It’s supposed to be simple today. A charity youth clinic. A few drills, some laughs, a bunch of kids who think I’m Superman because I can catch a ball while getting tackled by a man built like a refrigerator.
These events are usually my favorite. Just football and kids and the rare feeling that my existence is a net positive.
Then the cameras show up like a swarm of angry insects.
Microphones push in. Sharp smiles. Hungry eyes.
Before I can even plant my foot, a mic is shoved so close to my jaw that I can smell the reporter’s coffee.
“Cam! Any comment on the lawyer's statements?”
“What about the accusation that you pressured her?”
“Are you cooperating with investigators?”
The words overlap, fast and sharp, and it feels like being pelted with rocks that have my name carved into them.
A few kids nearby freeze mid-run. A boy holding a flag belt looks at me like I just turned into a stranger. Parents shift closer to their kids, protective and wary in the same motion.
Fantastic.
I keep my face neutral. I lift a hand, palm out, trying to slow the chaos without letting it infect the field.
