Page 30

CHAPTER 30

Cami

Mia

You two look so good out there.

Mia

Seriously, where did Charlie learn to dance like that?

Mia

I’m guessing it comes from the time on the ice, but Soren looks like a baby giraffe when he dances so IDK.

Mia

GIRL. That man adores you. The way he’s looking at you right now. Wait, let me take a pic.

Mia

*one attachment* Seeeee what I mean!!!

Mia

I’m so happy for the both of you. Okay I’ll stop blowing up your phone that is sitting right by me at the table.

Charlie is surprisingly a phenomenal dancer. He’s moving around this dance floor like it’s second nature to him, and I’m enjoying letting him lead. Pressed up close to him with my head on his shoulder is right where I want to be tonight, and I’m not going to dig deeper into why that is. I’m just going to enjoy it.

I was so thrilled to see Mia here. We exchanged numbers after that night at the bar and have been texting on and off ever since. Us WAGs need to stick together, she told me . I always knew what a WAG was, wives and girlfriends, because Charlie has been playing professional hockey for years, but I never thought I would be considered one. It was good to see a familiar warm face in a large room of strangers.

We’ve been swirling around other couples for a few songs, and he hasn’t let go of me once. I appreciate his steady presence, and the way he never wavers. He feels so secure, like he will always be here no matter what, and that feels like a drastic opposite to most of my life.

“How you feelin’, Cam?” he asks softly.

“Mmm I’m good.”

“Getting tired?”

“I’m always tired.” I pull my head back so I can look up at him as we talk.

“You need to take a break. You work too hard.” He reaches his hand up and tucks a strand of hair that’s escaped the headband behind my ear. His touch is gentle and his soft blue eyes hold such warmth and affection, I want to get lost in them.

We just stare at each other for a few long seconds, no longer moving to the music but stuck in an undefined moment together. The silence is broken when he whispers four words I never thought I would ever hear Charlie Cade say to me.

“Can I kiss you?”

I’m taken aback at the way he comes right out with it. He’s straightforward in a way that’s charming and not awkward. I forget for a moment that this is all an act. He’s probably seen someone around us that he knows and wants to reinforce our lies, but I don’t give that much thought. I can’t get the idea of his lips on mine out of my head, and I need to know what it feels like.

“Yes,” I whisper, looking up at him with an expression that I hope isn’t too eager.

He brings his hand from my hip to cradle the back of my head. His fingers sink into my hair and he tugs on it just enough to control the direction of my head when he leans down and places the softest kiss I’ve ever received on my lips.

I’ve been a participant in many a kiss over the last few years, but pretty much all of them were passionate in a desperate way. There was no longing or care or thought behind the action, we were both just doing it to feel good. I mean, sure I had affection for other boyfriends I’ve had over the years, but I was never with anyone long enough for that affection to grow into anything past the physical.

With Charlie, it’s like our entire friendship is pouring into this connection between the two of us. He reads me like a book and knows exactly when to slow down or when to push further, and exactly how much. He pulls away for a fraction of a second before diving back in for more and I am fully lost to the kiss, until I hear the click of a camera in the distance. It startles me enough to bring me out of the moment and back to reality.

We part, but he doesn’t let me go far. His forehead is pressed to mine, and I’m not sure if his eyes are open but I don’t open mine. I want to stay suspended in this embrace for a few more seconds before I crash back into the fake reality we’re painting.

“I guess we shouldn’t get too handsy in front of Mr. and Mrs. Martin,” he says as he arches his eyebrows and looks to our left, where an older couple keeps sneaking looks at us. They look positively shocked and if the woman was wearing pearls, she’d likely be clutching them.

“Probably the most action they’ve seen this year,” I say with a laugh, thankful for the way he so easily took the pressure off. Joking for us is second nature, and definitely an area where we feel most comfortable. That felt way too real for me, even though I know he only did it for the benefit of the cameras and the crowd.

“Nah, I bet they get more action than you’d think.”

“Ugh, gross.”

“Ready to head back home? You’ve had a long day and we’ve been here long enough.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave too early. I’m good to stay if you need to.”

“I’d rather get you home and in bed. Let’s go.” He clasps my hand in his and pulls me towards our table. We say goodbye to Soren and Mia, and head out into the cold December air.

The car ride to my apartment is short in theory, but with New York City traffic it takes ten times longer than it should. The energy in the enclosed space is tense, but I don’t dare bring up the kiss. We talk about his upcoming game schedule and the shoots I have this week, and before I even realize we’re pulling up to my building.

It’s very possible the reason I don’t realize it’s my building is because there are paparazzi swarming the entrance. The car starts to pull up to let us out and I go still, not putting all of the pieces together but sensing the unsettling situation.

“What is?—”

“Take us to my place,” he says to our driver, cutting me off.

“Wait, why are we going to your place? What’s going on?”

“If you think I’m letting you go stay alone in your apartment with barely any security when the paparazzi clearly know where you’re living now, you’re crazy.”

“So, what? You’re just kidnapping me and making me stay at your place?”

“Do you have another option?”

“I don’t know, let me think.”

My mind is racing as our car crawls forward. I’m overcome by the anxiety of knowing my address is known to many strangers who want nothing more than to get a photo of me doing something damning like walking out with my shirt inside out or talking sternly on the phone with my mom. These reporters can take anything and spin it to be something big. Not to mention, my safety. I don’t want tons of people I don’t know, knowing where I live.

Despite all of that, I love my tiny apartment. I can walk to work, it’s cozy, all of my hobby supplies are there, and it’s mine. I know this is just one night and it might seem dramatic, but I was really looking forward to climbing into my bed at the end of the night and scrolling on my phone for an hour.

“If you’re uncomfortable coming to my place, I can get you a hotel. But, Cam, I won’t have you going there without security. So you either stay somewhere else for a while, or let me hire you private security.”

I know he can sense my discomfort with the entire situation. I’m not speaking, not looking at him, and likely not showing any emotion on my face but stress and anxiety. I’m trying to make some kind of decision, but I can’t quiet the thoughts in my mind long enough to land on one.

The warmth of his hand on my knee is startling, but I don’t pull away. He squeezes in a pulsing motion, once, twice, three times. It clears away enough of the clouds for me to get it together and I look up into his eyes.

Tears are spilling over before I even decide I’m going to cry. I don’t even know why I’m crying. This is stupid. There is no immediate danger, everything is going to be okay, and I have a really great friend looking after me. But it’s like the emotions of the last few weeks are all of a sudden crashing in on me and the only way I can release the pressure is by crying it out. Charlie groans an unhappy noise, and wraps his arm around me before pulling me into him. I wrap my arms around his waist and cry into his chest.

“I hate this, Cam, hate seeing you like this. The last thing I want to do is make you cry, baby.” We stay there for a few more minutes, the car moving at a glacial pace and the driver pretending he is anywhere but here. Once my sobs have quieted, Charlie brushes the hair from my face.

“Look at me.” I do. “If this is too much we’ll stop. We can go back to being friends and if I get traded, I get traded. It won’t be the end of the world, but it will be if you’re unhappy.”

“It would make me unhappy to go back,” I say in a quiet whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” I say before burying my face back into his chest. I’m sure I’m getting makeup all over his suit, but he doesn’t seem to care. “Take me to your place.”

Later that night, once I’ve settled into his guest room and have calmed myself enough to feel drowsy, I finally take my phone out of my bag. Scrolling through the texts from Mia makes me laugh, a welcomed reprieve to the highly emotional night I’ve had, but the photo she sent makes my heart skip a beat.

If the photo from our first date was shocking, this one is devastating. He has his hand on my lower back, pressing my body into his. The angle Mia took it from shows his face, but only the back of my head. The way he’s looking at me…he looks like he wants me. Nothing about that photo looks strained, or forced, or fake. He looks perfectly at ease and his eyes communicate a want that I didn’t realize was there before now.

I lock my phone and collapse down onto the bed. The thought of Charlie wanting me for real not scaring me nearly as much as I thought it would.