CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Cameron
The lasagna had five minutes left in the oven and Adalyn wasn’t here.
I went to my phone and picked it up off the counter. I opened my contacts but… my finger halted in the air. I could already see her face. Her brown eyes rolling back and her mouth formulating some smart remark about how impatient I was. Maybe she’d call me a nonna again, just like she had the other day when I shoved more food on her plate without asking her first.
The corners of my lips tipped up and with a shake of my head I dropped the phone.
I really was an impatient bastard. But I didn’t care. I was too old and too set in my ways to change that. I didn’t think I could, either. Just like I couldn’t help the need to… take care of her. Especially when she didn’t herself. Or worse yet, when she didn’t expect anybody else to.
Willow and Pierogi dashing in the direction of the front door was the only sign I needed to know that Adalyn was home. Home. Warmth spread in my chest.
I faced the entrance of the kitchen, much like my cats had just done, and waited silently for her to materialize. A trail of sweet mewing reached my ears, followed by the sound of Adalyn’s soft voice. Her voice always did that when she talked to them, and it fascinated me. I loved how close she was with them, and Willow in particular. Every time I found them curled up on the couch, I had to stop myself from… jumping in and begging her to pet me instead.
I was fucking ridiculous.
Her form popped up at the end of the hall, cheeks pink from the increasingly cold air. I watched her unzip the jacket I’d gotten for her, probably unaware I was there, gawking, all my attention captured by those hands I wanted on me. The jacket opened, revealing one of those silky, thin button-downs she loved so much. She was wearing it with jeans and boots. I’d bought every item of clothing on her except for that shirt and her underwear. And a part of me rebelled at the fact. I wanted to pamper Adalyn. Bury her in nice things I knew she could probably afford herself. I didn’t care.
“Hi,” she said, finally noticing me. Her cheeks filled with a different shade of pink, and her eyes trailed down my body. She did that a lot lately. Openly checked me out. And I fucking loved it. “Cameron?”
I swallowed. “I love your hair today.” I really did. It was down, wavy, free, not straightened or tight in some bun.
Adalyn’s lips bobbed. “I… Oh. Thank you.” She frowned. “You, um, looked… weird. As if you were about to sneeze. Or… hungry?” Her eyes widened. “Oh God, I’m super late, aren’t I?” She pulled out her phone and checked the screen. “Please, tell me I’m not too late and ruined dinner.”
The genuine worry in her face pushed me one step forward. I stilled myself. “You’re just in time,” I assured her, my voice sounding a little too rough still. “And I wasn’t about to sneeze. Or hungry. That was just my face.” Around you. Lately. Always. I’d need to work on it.
Her concern dissolved, giving way to that playfulness she had been showing me glimpses of these past days. “You still looked handsome,” she said in a small voice. “It smells great, by the way. Very excited to see what you’ve cooked.”
Enthralled, I watched her pad all the way to the kitchen island and take a seat. “How bad was it?”
A sigh came out of her lips. “Bad. It took Josie and I two rounds of milkshakes to cheer everyone up.”
My hand closed around the bottle of red wine I’d gotten on my way home from the game. I’d already set two glasses on the island. “Red?” I asked, the intimacy of the scene catching me by total surprise. A new kind of warmth spread across my chest. I… liked this. How this felt. I cleared my throat. “I also have a bottle of white chilling in the fridge.”
Her lips parted with a soft, “Oh.” And my gaze fastened on her mouth. “What is this for? I would hardly celebrate the outcome of the game, even if we didn’t lose.”
“You also deserve to be comforted, darling. It wasn’t just the girls not getting enough points to get to the final.”
Adalyn sighed. “Red is perfect. Thank you, Coach.”
I had to fight the urge to smile at her calling me that. Or growl, I wasn’t sure. “Don’t thank me just yet,” I murmured, and served her a glass. “So two rounds of milkshakes?”
“Yes. The girls were so devastated I started getting everything Josie had behind the counter. Nothing was left, not even Josie’s raisin cookies.” Her hand came around the stem of the glass. “I mean, we all knew that if we didn’t win this game against the New Mount Eagles we would only be able to fight for a third or fourth place. But I…” She averted her gaze, her lips closing around the brim and taking a long sip. “I don’t know.”
We had talked about this, long and hard. We’d established a strategy and the girls had entered that field today with a literal battle cry. Adalyn had gotten everything on camera. When we’d only managed another tie, I’d been ready to deal with the possible consequences that would have on Adalyn. I’d been prepared to weather a storm. Because I’d known just how badly Adalyn wanted—needed—the girls to get to that final that was no longer possible. But she’d been… okay. No. She’d been so concerned about the girls’ reaction that she hadn’t even shown disappointment herself. She’d put on a strong face.
It’d been impossibly hard not to kiss her in that moment.
It was impossible now. “Are you not a little devastated? You don’t need to act strong around me, love.”
Adalyn set the glass back on the island. “I’m disappointed. There was a lot at stake for me.” She frowned. “But no, I’m not devastated. Somehow. It was me who got their hopes up. I wanted this for them.”
There was a lot at stake for me.
I knew that she had messed up in some way or another and was trying to redeem herself. But I was starting to believe that there was more than just that.
“What exactly was at stake for you?” I asked.
Adalyn shook her head. “You know what the Miami Flames sent me here for,” she said. And I knew. But I let her talk. Because now, I was certain I was missing something I’d overlooked. It was right there, in the way she wouldn’t look at me. Her shoulders tensed. “I know that the condition had never been to win but… Well, I just hoped we would. A win is always a win. And you can better sell a win to the press. People love winners, we all know that. But I still have a lot of material to work with. And I’m planning something big for that last game. No matter where we end up. This is still a success story.”
I frowned. The condition? Why would she say that instead of the goal or the milestone? But also… “There wasn’t any press at today’s game. Or the one before.” I specifically remembered her mentioning talking to local outlets. “Why?”
She brought the glass to her lips again. But I could tell it was to give herself time.
I stared at her, in silence. Willing her to tell me the reason even though I knew. She must have done it for me. And that… made me want to scream for very different reasons. “Adalyn—”
“Enough about me, please.” She tried to smile over her glass, but I didn’t buy it. It was that plastic smile I didn’t like. The one that wasn’t hers. “What about you? What’s Cameron Caldani’s plan? How… long do you think you’ll be in Green Oak?”
I remained quiet. Partly because of how she’d shot me down, and partly because of the reminder that none of us were here to stay. Or maybe I was. I didn’t know.
Adalyn must have sensed some of my reluctance to talk about any of that, because she reached out and touched my arm. “We don’t need to talk about it.” She lowered her voice. “Can I ask you something else instead?”
I reached for my glass and brought it to my lips for one long swig. “You can ask me anything,” I told her, returning the wine to the surface of the island. I just wish she’d extend the same offer to me.
“It’s about your retirement.”
I stiffened. So much that I had to focus on the touch of her fingers on my arm to simmer down enough to speak. “What about it?”
“I… I read about it,” she admitted. “About you, too. A lot.” Her cheeks were pink again, but not with embarrassment. With the opposite of that. And the fool in me thought, That’s my brave girl. But she wasn’t my girl. Not yet. “It was sudden. You had a few more years in you. Goalkeepers usually…” A shake of her head. “I don’t need to explain this to you of all people. But your retirement came as a surprise. I was wondering if there was a reason.”
I felt myself lean back, and Adalyn’s hand fell off my arm with the distance.
I walked to the oven and took out the lasagna. Words were stuck in my throat, but this time it wasn’t because of my reluctance to share, it was because I was readying myself to share this with her. It felt crucial that I did. But it wasn’t easy.
Moments ago, when Adalyn had dodged my question, it had stung. But how could I expect her to completely open up when I wasn’t doing that myself?
I leaned back on the counter, realizing I was somehow holding a spatula.
I dropped it next to the lasagna and braced my hands on the marble.
I closed my eyes, throwing myself back to that night.
“Someone broke in,” I let out with a long, rough breath. “Into my house. In L.A.”
I waited, heard my own words hanging in the air, feeling the usual pressure that came along with the memory. The horrible night. I opened my eyes and looked at her. All the blood had drained from her face.
“To this day, I don’t even understand how it happened.” I let my arms drop to my sides. “It had been the night after returning from a game in Austin. Usually, I left Willow and Pierogi with a neighbor, some old lady who claimed to be an old Hollywood star. I never recognized her from anything but she took good care of them, so I trusted her.” I shook my head. “I’d been tempted to leave them with her an extra night and go straight to bed. I still have—or had—a few years left in me, you were right, but away games were starting to take their toll on me. Thing was, I missed the cats, and was worried about Willow being the pain in the ass she can be, so I just collected them, went home, and crashed.”
Adalyn looked so distraught I had to look away.
“I…” The image of what happened next was as clear as the day in my head. “I think I slept at least five hours before hearing Willow’s loud whining, so I… opened my eyes and saw him there.”
A strange sound left her.
My eyelids shut. “For a second I thought I was dreaming. But then the guy moved, and I knew, someone had broken in. And was in my room. By my bed.” My whole body started to shake. It wasn’t as bad as it had been at first. But every once in a while, I still got the shakes. “I didn’t even know how long the intruder had been in my room. Minutes, hours, the whole weekend I’d been away? I…” My words dried out. My vocal cords were not working anymore. “Fuck, I—”
I was tackled.
So hard I stumbled back into the counter. Arms came around my torso, meeting at my back, and I was squeezed. Hugged. As hard and tight as I’d ever been. A broken laugh left me as I threw my own arms around Adalyn’s shoulders and brought her even further into my chest. As much as I could. I would have burrowed her inside me if I’d been able to. That was how good it felt to be hugged this fiercely by Adalyn Reyes.
“So this is what it takes, huh,” I said, more to myself than her. I let my chin fall onto the top of her head and allowed myself to be comforted in a way I hadn’t been since the events of that night.
Time ticked by, and with every passing second in our embrace, something heavy settled in my stomach. It should have made it better, having this woman I wanted, needed, craved, in my arms. But it didn’t do just that. It also solidified one of my biggest fears after that night.
“What if I’d had a family in the house? A wife? Kids? What if…” What if you had been in my bed? “What if I’d had someone other than Willow and Pierogi in the house?” I was barely able to swallow the clog in my throat. “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything, Adalyn. Not a single thing. And it would all have been because of me. Because of some career I chose when I was boy. Because of a life I chased because of my own pride. My family wouldn’t want for anything, but what kind of life could I provide them with?” My breath turned ragged. “The guy, he was some crazed fan who was taken away and dealt with, but what if someone else comes along?”
Her arms squeezed harder around my waist. “It would have never been your fault. You aren’t responsible for somebody else’s actions. Not even when they claim they do it out of love or adoration or awe.” Her voice cracked. “You’re not responsible, Cameron. You hear me? You’re not.”
I let myself take a deep breath, probably the first one in a while. I filled my lungs with her scent, and fuck, it felt so good. So right.
Adalyn extricated her head from my chest and looked up. “You must know that I would have never said anything,” she said, brown eyes shining with emotion. Guilt. “I swear to you Cameron, when I threatened to expose you to the whole town I—” Her voice broke off. “God, I am so sorry. I—”
“I know,” I told her. And it dawned on me, just how certain I was. Had been. “I know now, okay?”
Her eyes kept twinkling with unshed tears, and I swore that if she cried right now it’d break me in half. “I must have made you feel so unsafe. And you must have really hated me. Why didn’t you leave?”
“I’m one stubborn motherfucker,” I said honestly. “I told you I was proud. And selfish.” My throat worked, and I brought my hands up and down her back, comforting myself more than her. “And I didn’t hate you. I could never hate you.” Her face softened, even if only slightly. It brought me relief. “I was no angel, either, love. I treated you like shit. Said things I shouldn’t have and never meant. I was mean to you.” My hands closed around the fabric of her shirt. “And I hate that I was.”
Adalyn released me then. She took a step back, and the absence of her felt like a punch to the gut.
“That’s okay,” she said, catching me by surprise. “You had good reasons to do all that.”
My stomach dropped with some sense of relief, because she wasn’t running away from me, but also with something I didn’t like. Why wasn’t she tucked in my arms? Why was she physically removing herself from me?
“I deserved it, honestly. What matters now is that you’ve forgiven me.”
I felt myself pale. Deserved it? “Adalyn—”
“I’m going to run to the restroom, okay? I’ll be right back so we can eat.” She made herself smile. “I’m starving and I’m under the impression that lasagna might have come right out of Nonna’s recipe book.”
It did. It was the ragù she prepared when I was a boy.
But before I could utter a word, she was walking away, and I was watching her leave. I started after her, then stopped myself. I’d give her the minute she so clearly needed.
On the island, my phone pinged with a notification.
An email from Liam.
I started putting down the device, but something caught my attention. Miami Flames.
I unlocked it and opened the email.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Miami Flames interest
C – Remember I put out some scouts to spread word around that there was MLS interest in you? Not a rumour anymore. The Flames seem to be looking for a big name for sporting director. Scouts claim it’s to either fix media mess (link below) or cash in on attention. I think it’s something else. Either way, big cash. Interested?
L.
PS: RBC is growing restless, you have until end of October to decide. Stop being a wanker and take it.
I immediately clicked on the link.
A video popped open, starting without me hitting play.
A woman entered what looked like the Flames’ Stadium, stomping her way to one of those mascots shaped like a bird. Someone said, “Are you recording this?” And the camera moved closer, fully catching her face.
All the blood in my face dashed to my feet.
Adalyn.
Then it dashed right back to my head, making me see red.
“What the fuck.”