And I have no idea what to do about it.
Chapter sixteen
Cam
Lila and I are in the passenger drop-off outside Jax’s favorite rooftop restaurant, and my chest is doing that tight little squeeze like it’s trying to warn me about an oncoming tornado.
Except the tornado is my teammates.
And they are about to collide with Lila Hart.
She’s beside me in the backseat, pulling her coat closer even though the night is mild. Her hair is tucked neatly, her posture controlled, like she’s about to walk onto a stage—only this stage smells like fries and questionable decisions.
I glance at her and immediately regret it because she looks… stunning. Not red-carpet stunning. Not “sparkle until you blind someone” stunning.
Just her. Quiet. Gorgeous. Unfair.
The driver opens the door and the city noise hits us. Above, the rooftop glows with string lights and heat lamps and the kind of curated ambiance that screams,We’re chill,while charging twenty-five dollars for a cocktail that tastes like a houseplant.
Lila steps out first. I follow.
As we walk toward the private patio entrance, her voice drops.
“Your teammates know we’re coming?” she asks.
It’s a whisper, but it carries a whole world ofplease don’t let me be surprised.
“Yeah,” I say. “They’re… prepared.”
Prepared is a polite lie.
My team is a pack of golden retrievers who found a steak and learned how to whistle.
I’m already running the lineup in my head like I’m calling plays.
Jax is going to come in hot. He’s incapable of not coming in hot. Devon will say something that makes HR in three different states break into a sweat. Hunter will watch everything with those quiet eyes that make you feel like you’re being evaluated for a loan.
And all of them will look at Lila and then look at me like I’m the punchline to a joke I don’t get.
Because that’s what this is to them.
Cam Drake, who doesn’t date. Cam Drake, who has been living like romance is a contagious disease. Cam Drake, showing up with his brand new wife.
My chest tightens again.
Like I’m bringing something breakable into a room full of elbows.
We reach the patio door. The hostess gives us a smile that’s too bright to be real. Someone inside catches sight of Lila through the glass.
The reaction is immediate.
A chorus of whistles and cheers detonates like they’ve been waiting for this exact moment to ruin my life.
I step in first on instinct, like my body wants to block the sound from hitting her full force. The team is spread around along wooden table, skyline behind them, plates already stacked, glasses lifted.
Lila pauses beside me. I feel it, that tiny hitch in her breath. Then she does something I wasn’t expecting.
She laughs.
