He studies my face like he doesn’t buy it. Falls back without pushing.
Hunter doesn’t say anything. He just watches. The way he always does when something’s wrong and he’s waiting to see if I’ll admit it first.
We reset. I line up again.
The snap comes. I run.
And it’s like my legs are moving through water.
“Man,” Devon mutters as we jog back, “you’re running like your soul left your body.”
A few guys laugh. Not unkind. Concerned.
I force a grin. It feels wrong on my face.
We break into drills. Pads hit. Breath burns. Sweat drips into my eyes.
Normally, this is where everything else drops away.
Not today.
I grit my teeth and shove my thoughts aside.
What I can’t shove away is her.
I kissed her knowing my life is a mess. Knowing I’m radioactive on a good day. Knowing the storm was already building.
Now the storm is finally breaking, but I can't shake the feeling that something is off.
The whistle blows. We break. I bend over, hands on my knees, breathing hard.
Hunter stops in front of me. Low voice. “You good?”
I nod. Too fast.
He doesn’t argue. Just claps my shoulder once and moves on.
I straighten and stare out across the field. The stands are empty. Quiet.
I wish my head were the same.
***
I’m halfway to my car when Brent says my name.
Not loud. Not sharp.
The kind of tone that means this isn’t optional.
“Cam—wait.”
I stop. Slowly. Because if I don’t, I might keep walking until I hit the edge of the city and fall off.
He catches up, already pulling out his phone. “PR and legal need you. Now.”
“I’m going home,” I say. The words come out flat. Final.
“I know,” he says. “I wouldn’t stop you if it could wait.”
