CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Cameron
I’d fucked up.
Royally.
I never acted without a reason, without a well thought out plan. But this time I’d made a mistake. Adalyn was right, I shouldn’t have decided what was best for her without letting her have a say in it. Even though all I’d wanted was for her to have this one goddamn thing. Even though I knew her, and I knew she’d sacrifice her own happiness. Go to Miami and fix a situation she wasn’t responsible for.
Those goddamn fuckers were using her like a chess piece in their sick power game. And it made my blood boil.
But as much as I wanted to protect her, I had miscalculated. I’d fucked up. And now, I also knew that I shouldn’t have left the cabin. I shouldn’t have convinced myself that Adalyn needed space. I shouldn’t have left her and hoped for the best. I should have stayed.
Because now Adalyn wasn’t here. She wasn’t coming to the game, and I didn’t know if she was ever coming back.
I looked at my feet, the sound of the gathering crowd and the girls nothing but a low buzz.
I don’t need you to protect me… You don’t trust that I can handle things on my own.
Christ. I’d been such a moron. She believed that now. I’d led her to believe that. Even when all I think is how strong and brave she is. And how I worry about how little she actually needs me.
And now she was on her way to the airport, and I was here, my hands tied behind my back by my own actions. My stomach twisted at the thought of her sitting alone on that plane. Not having anyone to squeeze her hand in case she needed reassurance. I whipped out my phone and opened the flights app, but the reminder of her words brought my fingers to a halt.
You don’t trust that I can handle things.
I’d trust her with anything I had. But would she believe that if I planted myself in Miami? Would she think I was doing exactly what she’d accused me of? Would she tell me I was trying to fight her battles?
I expelled a forceful gulp of air. Shook my head. Locked my phone. I went to put it away but then pulled it back out and unlocked it. “Fuck,” I muttered. “Bloody fucking hell,” I continued, and her face popped behind my eyes. Language, Coach, she’d say with that tilt of her lips. It felt like a blow to my face. “You absolute toad.” I closed my eyes. “How could you lie to her, you—”
“Coach Cam?”
“María,” I said with a shake of my head, steeling myself before turning. “Hey, you called me Cam.”
María shrugged a shoulder. “You’re wearing your special shirt,” she told me, as if that explained why. Fuck, now my chest hurt again. “That’s good. But who is a toad? And who did he lie to?”
I sighed, incapable of mustering the strength to come up with an answer for her.
She narrowed her eyes, but rather than suspicion, she did it with understanding. “Is that why Miss Adalyn is running late? I thought she’d braid my hair again. Like last time.” She pointed at the side of the field where the team was gathering up. “Chelsea brought face paint, so she doesn’t need to use her fancy lipstick to draw lines on our cheeks again.”
“I…” Fuck me. I couldn’t do this. Air was getting stuck in my throat. “I don’t think Miss Adalyn is coming to the game, María.”
“Why?”
“There was an emergency back in Miami, and she had to go.”
María tilted her head. “Why aren’t you with her, then?” she asked. And God. It was such a simple question, formulated with such genuine shock, as if there was no other possibility than me being by her side, that it almost brought to my knees.
I… blurted out nothing but the truth. “I messed up. I made her believe I didn’t trust her to handle things on her own. I…” Treated her like the one man I’d tried to protect her from had. “But she’ll be back,” I heard myself say. “She’ll come back. You guys are still very important to her.”
María stared back at me, while I braced myself. If there was a kid on the team who wouldn’t hesitate to wipe this field with my ass, it was her. And I’d deserve it. I had already deserved every scowl and skeptical look she’d thrown my way for how I’d treated Adalyn at the beginning. And I’d take this, too.
She made a face. Then, tilted her head. “Would braiding my hair make you feel any better?”
I opened my mouth to decline but found myself giving her a nod instead.
“Okay,” she said with a sigh before taking my hand and dragging me all the way to the bench. “Sit here,” she ordered. And down I went. She stood in front of me. “I hope you’re better at it than Tony. His braids really suck.”
I looked at the back of her messy head of hair, welcoming the sense of purpose, even if for a few minutes, and got to work.
“Have you had many girlfriends, Coach Cam?”
I frowned, caught off guard by her question. “No. I haven’t had a girlfriend for a while, no.”
She sighed, and that sigh should have told me enough. “Do you love Miss Adalyn?”
My hands froze in the air, and I swore my heart came to a halt. “Yes,” I rasped out, resuming the random twirling and weaving of hair.
“Have you told her?”
I cleared my throat to speak. “No.”
María huffed. “Then, how is she supposed to come back?” Now my goddamn heart was breaking all over again. “How will she know where to follow her heart?”
My eyes closed. “That’s part of the problem, I’m afraid.”
“Love is never part of the problem,” María answered. And Christ, why did words spoken by a nine-year-old hit me so hard?
“It’s a little more complex than that, sweetheart.”
“But I’ve seen the face she makes at you when you touch her.”
My fingers faltered for an instant. “And what face is that?”
“The same face Brandy makes when she realizes I’m the one petting her,” she said, and I bit back a chuckle. But then, the kid continued, “Like she can finally be at ease. Like she was scared but now she’s okay. Because with me, she’s always, always safe.”
You make me feel like I’ve never felt with anyone before, Cameron. You make me want things I never wanted. Adalyn’s voice seemed to take shape in my head, eclipsing the pounding in my chest.
Oblivious to how much of an effect her words were having on me, María continued, “You told us that life is hard. You said that a loss is only the end of one game. That we should stand up and chase the prize. Losing a game is just tripping, it makes you tough as long as you stand up.”
“I… did.” I had told the kids that. And I’d been sure my words had crushed them. And now they were being thrown back at my face, crushing me.
María handed me an elastic over her shoulder. “Is Miss Adalyn your prize?”
“No.” My throat worked. “She’s not a prize to be won.” I took the elastic from her. “She’s… not a game. She’s more than something you win. She’s more than a loss. She’s everything that’s worth playing for. She’s everything in between.”
“See?” she said with that nonchalance only kids had. “Love is never the problem. Love is easy, like in the movies. We’re the ones who make it complicated. That’s why I’ll forgive her for missing the game.” I finished tightening the elastic. “But if she really is your everything, and she’s dealing with something important, then shouldn’t you be with her? Even if you messed up. What if she needs a sub to play in her place? She might not like you right now, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you there.”
Before I could even utter a word, she turned around.
Her brown eyes inspected me, and I just blinked at her in disbelief. Thinking about what she’d said. Thinking how much sense she made. How easy it seemed when she put it like that.
“Can I have your phone?” María asked.
I handed it to her, my head still whirling.
María looked at herself in what I assumed was the camera of the device. She sighed.
“Coach Cam?” she called, and my gaze refocused on her. “Your braids suck.” She handed back my phone and I blinked at the kid. “Will you ask her to teach you?”
Like the hopeless and foolish man I was, I whispered, “When?”
And María pursed her lips, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “When you get her back.”