Playmaker, p.14
Playmaker, page 14
The twinge of annoyance disappears when I throw my duffel bag in the backseat. “I had a friend over.”
“A friend,” he repeats. “Is this friend a girl or a boy?”
“Does it matter? I had pizza one night.”
“And that one night can throw off your entire diet, Cameron. How many times have we talked about this? If you want to make it to the NFL, you have to be at your best. It’s not the time to dick around.” He sighs heavily, and I can almost imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not many kids get these opportunities. You can’t afford distractions.”
“I’m not distracted.” Well, maybe a little, but he doesn’t have to know that. Maddie is a distraction in the best of ways. I’m not straying from my routine, but now I’ve started enjoying my routine for once. If anything, being with her has made me a better athlete.
“I’m not trying to harp on you,” he says, but his tone doesn’t carry a hint of remorse. “You know this is what your mom always wanted for you. What we have always wanted for you. I just don’t want you to fuck this up.”
The weight of the world comes crashing back down like a fucking avalanche. I’m quickly reminded where my priorities need to lie, but it’s not like Maddie and I will continue this after we head back to school. I won’t be distracted forever. We both agreed to enjoy it while it lasts, which is exactly what we’re doing. I have no reason to feel guilty. I’ll still make my parents’ dreams come true.
“I hear you,” I reply. My car rumbles to life, cutting into the silence. “I’ll make sure to stick to my diet the remainder of my break, all right?” The break you aren’t even here for, I want to add.
“I’ll keep a close eye too,” he reassures me. “I’ll be your support system.”
Ha. He’s the furthest thing from a support system. Since Mom passed, I’ve never once gone to my father for advice or help for anything. If he was an actual support system, I’d confide in him about Maddie and how conflicted I am about my feelings. I’d tell him that I wish Mom was here to tell me how to sort through my emotions so that maybe, someday, I could be the guy Maddie deserves. Instead, I’m left with a coach.
“Thanks,” I respond dryly. “We’ll speak next week?”
“Maybe sooner. Bye, son.”
When the line goes dead, the silence that wraps around me is practically insufferable. I put the radio on full blast, letting the music consume and numb me until I no longer feel a damn thing.
—
When I pull into my driveway, the ton of bricks that have been sitting on my chest the entirety of the drive vanishes at the sight of Maddie on the hood of her car. I wasn’t expecting to see her tonight, but it’s a welcome surprise.
“Missing me already?” I tease.
She rolls her eyes and hops off the hood. “I wouldn’t go that far. Maya had no plans tonight, so she said she’d cover. I didn’t mean to stop by unannounced, but—”
I cut her off with a kiss, my duffel bag landing on the pavement before my hands find their way to her hips. Kissing Maddie gives me the same numbness that music and being underwater can bring. It’s like a drug the way her lips meld with mine. I’m an addict who can’t seem to get enough, and in a matter of seconds the unbearable pressure in my chest evaporates, the high of her overpowering my sadness.
My hands run up her back before sliding into her hair, and I back her up until she’s pressed against her car. This kiss between us is slow. Passionate. Every move of mine is deliberate, and Maddie caresses my face with her hands, stroking my cheeks with the pads of her thumbs.
She has no idea how much I missed her. Hell, I didn’t even know how much I missed having her in my life until we became whatever we’re labeled as now. Friends with benefits sounds too casual and dating sounds too permanent. We’re . . . well, we’re exploring, and I’m okay with that.
For now.
“I missed you.” I breathe onto her lips. My forehead is resting against hers as I scan her eyes, and I can almost hear my brain laughing at me for how ridiculous I sound. Exploring will never be enough—not when she brings me this much peace.
“Really?” she asks.
I nod and give her another quick kiss. “Come inside. I have leftover pizza from the other night if you’re hungry.”
“I already ate,” she admits, “but I might be in the mood for something else.”
A smug grin pulls at my lips when I open the door and jerk my chin for her to follow me upstairs.
“Ooh, I’m finally going to see the infamous Cameron Holden’s room.”
I toss a confused glance over my shoulder. “You’ve never been to my room before? There’s no way. We’ve known each other since we were kids, Mads.”
“I haven’t,” she replies, staying close on my heels. “When we were younger our parents made sure I didn’t go in your room. We were never left alone.”
I snort. “Not sure how much good it did.”
“Me either.” She laughs.
I’m not sure what she’s expecting to find, but my room is very bland. Carpet, blue walls, and a twin-sized bed my feet hang off. There’s a desk on the far side littered with different trinkets I’ve collected over the years, and shelves filled with football trophies line my walls.
“Hmm.” She spins around, taking it all in. “I have to say, I’m slightly disappointed.”
“How so?”
“No pornographic magazines? No sexy posters of women in bikinis?”
I send her a devilish grin. “Oh, those are all under my bed.”
“Wait, really?”
Giving her a look as if to say, Seriously? I add, “No, Maddie. I don’t have sexy magazines or posters hidden anywhere in this room. Despite what you think, sex isn’t all I think about.”
“I don’t think that’s all you think about.” She scans my rows of trophies, seeming deep in thought. “Well, I never used to.”
“What changed?”
For a heartbeat, her body tenses, and based on that action alone, I know what she’s remembering.
My living room six years ago.
“Nothing exactly changed,” she lies. “You grew up and we drifted apart. The boy who loved Pokémon became more interested in girls and football, and I accepted that. You made where I stood in your life clear, so I took a step back from it, and as the years went by, I became okay with the fact that you weren’t the person you once were. I tried to l—” She clears her throat and starts over. “I tried to like the new version of you instead, but after . . .”
After my mom passed, I became a dick.
I can finish the sentence for her.
Leaning against the door frame, I point to my desk. “Top left drawer,” I say.
“Huh?”
“The top left drawer of my desk,” I repeat. “I want you to look inside it.”
With a wary expression, she peers in the drawer. “A binder? Why do you want me to—” An enormous grin crosses her face when she opens it. “Oh my god. Your Pokémon cards? You kept them?”
My eyes soften as she flips through the endless pages of trading cards, the tightening sensation in my chest—the love I have for her—bordering on consuming me whole.
“I didn’t change who I was completely. I still take pride in my collection, even if I don’t talk about it anymore.” Any hobby of mine that actually mattered died as soon as my mom did, but I didn’t have the heart to throw away the evidence completely. It sounds stupid, but in my mind, if I got rid of them, it’d erase the memory of my mom, too, so I locked them away in a drawer and thought I’d forget about them for good.
It never worked.
“This is amazing,” she continues. “I can’t believe you—” Something falls out of the binder and lands on the floor, and Maddie stares at her feet, where the photo lies face up. When I recognize what it is, I can feel the color drain from my face.
“Our—” She shakes her head as if she’s dreaming. “That’s our photo from Myrtle Beach.”
My heart races when she bends down to pick it up, holding it between shaky fingers. The photo has seen better days. It’s faded and worn around the edges, and the left corner is ripped. I’ve looked at that photo too many times to count, and it shows. It’s clear how many times I’ve run my thumb over her face, trying to remember a time when life was better. Simpler.
“You kept it,” she whispers, blinking back tears. “Why?”
Closing the distance between us, I grab the photo from her hands and stroke my thumb over the faded part that matches my print. It seems so long ago, and yet it feels like yesterday. I can still remember the dryness of my mouth when she climbed into my lap. I can still feel the electricity that sprang through my veins when I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her close for the first time. We were both so young, and yet it’s clear what we both wanted.
Each other.
My chin is on her shoulder and my smile is filled with braces, and her smile is brighter than the damn flash on the camera. I knew it back then that she was special, and everything I’ve ever done, even hurting her, was to protect her. If I went back and had the choice to change it, I wouldn’t. I’m not proud of who I became after my mom passed, and if I’d been selfish and kept her close, I would have done something stupid like use her to numb the pain of grieving. As soon as I got into high school, sex became an outlet for me. It still is, and Maddie is worth so much more than what I’m capable of giving her.
“Just because I let you go doesn’t mean I wanted to,” I say softly. It’s the first time either of us has spoken about that night six years ago, but it needed to happen at some point, especially if we’re trying to rekindle our friendship. “I was in a bad place, and I didn’t want to hurt you, Maddie. I still don’t.”
“But you did hurt me,” she replies. “You broke my heart, Cameron.”
“You don’t think I know that? I’ve regretted it every day since.”
The admission hangs in the air between us, fueling the undeniable feelings we both have never let go of. I could spill my guts again and tell her I love her, right here, right now, but what good would that do if I’m not certain I’ll be able to follow through with what that entails? Loving someone means being there for them unconditionally, so how on earth can I promise that when there are times I can’t even be there for myself?
“Mark asked me out on a date tomorrow night,” she admits, keeping her eyes locked on mine. “Tell me not to go, and I won’t.”
“Maddie—”
“Tell me not to go,” she repeats. “Tell me this isn’t purely physical between us. Tell me there’s more here to uncover, and I’ll never speak to Mark again.” I’m panting heavily while she awaits my answer. “If you truly don’t think there’s something more here then we’ll continue exploring until we head back to school, and I’ll go on the date with Mark and pretend to forget this ever happened between us.”
It’s not that simple.
It’s never been that simple.
Achieving and being the best has been ingrained into my head by my father ever since I started high school. No distractions. No girlfriends. No junk food. My life has been planned out since I was a teenager, and I was okay with that because I knew my mom would be proud of me for helping Dad take his mind off her death. Football has been the one thing we’ve shared, and if I fuck up, if I let this dream go, I’m afraid he’ll break, and as much as he’s been a shit father the past few years, I refuse to lose him too.
But staring into Maddie’s teary gaze, it’s the first time I’ve considered whether or not my mom would be proud of me. Would she be happy that I’m giving up the girl of my dreams to keep my dad together? Would she be proud of someone who made the girl she used to consider her own daughter bawl her eyes out?
Doubtful.
“All right,” she says, taking my silence as an answer. “I’m telling him yes, then.”
No. I can’t bear the thought of her going on a date with anyone other than me.
It’s always been me.
It’s always been us.
And I’ll be damned if I let her walk away from me again.
So I kiss her before I can stop myself, and she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans into it and doesn’t complain when I hoist her onto my desk to part her thighs and stand between them.
I’ve never been good at explaining my feelings, but I hope I can show her. I hope I can kiss her deeply enough to express how sorry I am that I can’t be the man she needs me to be. I hope she can understand how much I love her by not saying I love her. I’m fucked-up as it is, and with the added stress of her brother or family finding out? We’d never be able to make it work. As much as we want each other, we’ve always been bound to crash and burn, so staying silent and keeping that sentiment to ourselves is for the best.
Almost as if she’s thinking the same, she breaks away from the kiss, gasping for air.
“Please,” I beg.
“Please what?” she urges. “Say the words, Cameron. That’s all I need you to do.”
“Christ, Maddie. How could you not realize that I—”
A flicker of movement flashes in my peripheral, and I whip my head around to find my father standing in the room. His tall, bulky presence sucks up all the energy, and his brooding stare causes all the hairs on my body to stand on end. I’ve grown to understand that expression well, and it’s only ever had one meaning.
I’m in deep and utter shit.
Twenty-one
Cameron
“Ethan, that’s not fair!” I stomp my foot on the grass as he waves the popsicle he just stole from me in front of my face. “Give it back!”
I go to reach for it but he sticks his tongue out and runs away from me toward the pool in my backyard. It’s a summer day in the dead heat of July—the kind of day in Arizona when it’s well into the hundreds. The popsicle is steadily melting on the grass while Ethan runs around with it, and I find myself becoming angrier the longer I can’t have it.
“Mom!” I whine, blinking away tears. Ethan continues to taunt me from the other side of the pool. “Ethan stole my popsicle!”
She’s busy speaking to Mary and sipping a drink she says I’m not allowed to try, and I stomp my foot again when she’s not paying attention.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Her emerald eyes identical to mine fill with concern.
“Ethan stole my popsicle,” I repeat.
Mary lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Ethan!” she hollers, watching as his dirty-blond hair blows in the wind. “Get over here this instant!” Then she looks at Mom with her mouth turned into a frown. “I’m sorry.”
My mom waves her hand, completely unbothered. “It’s just kids,” she explains. “Don’t apologize.”
Suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder, and when I turn around, Maddie, Ethan’s little sister, is holding out a popsicle to me. Her face and hands are covered in blue sticky syrup, and the color matches her daisy-printed sundress.
“You can have mine,” her tiny voice says, as she pushes her blond curls behind her ear with her free hand.
I’m about to take it from her when my dad pats me on the back and crouches so that he’s eye level with me. “Come with me,” he says with a grin. I smile instantly. No matter what, my dad always fixes things. “I think I know where we keep the secret stash.”
—
How long has he been standing there?
Long enough, judging by the redness of the tips of his ears.
My father moves his gaze from me to Maddie, almost in disbelief.
“Mr. Holden, I can—”
“Out,” he replies sharply. “Now.”
His clipped tone has my spine straightening, and the sudden urge to protect her makes me take a step toward him. “Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of her.”
“Oh?” He crosses his arms over his chest, ready for a fight. “Then I suppose she won’t mind if I call her parents right now to tell them what I just witnessed?”
Finding us making out shouldn’t be a big deal. We’re grown adults who make our own decisions now, but I know Maddie wants to keep this a secret, and if her parents find out, Ethan is bound to find out, too, and it’s a conversation I don’t want to have yet. Especially when so much was already left unsaid between us.
As it is, I don’t even know if there’s anything to tell anymore.
Judging from our previous conversation, she’s going on a date with Mark, and what we had between us is over, because I don’t trust myself to tell her how I really feel.
As expected, Maddie steps around me and scurries out of the room before my father can interrogate her further, and it only causes my anger to bubble closer to the surface. What the hell is he doing here? He hasn’t seen me since Christmas.
When we’re finally alone, he releases a frustrated sigh. “Maddie? What the hell are you thinking, Cameron? She’s too young for you to be screwing around with. She’s like family.”
“Too young? Dad, she’s only two years younger than me.” I snap my mouth shut beneath his scrutinizing gaze. It’s a look I know not to mess with.
“Does Ethan know about this? How long has this been going on?”
I’ve played out a thousand scenarios in my head about how Maddie and I could possibly be discovered. Ethan coming over and walking in on us, her parents going through her phone and finding our texts, or Maya slipping up and accidentally spilling our secret. But none of those scenarios have been my father being the first one to figure this out.
“No, he doesn’t know,” I reply honestly, “and it hasn’t been long. Just since break started.”
He eyes me judgmentally, but I can’t say I blame him. All I do is fuck around with women, and he considers Maddie like his own daughter too.
