Page 36

CHAPTER 36

Charlie

Soren

Will you bring a side dish or something?

Me

Yeah, what do you want me to bring?

Soren

IDK something with cheese

Me

Okay…that was oddly specific yet also very vague

Soren

I know what I like

A few days ago, the guys and I were on the ice at practice and they invited me to this game night. I haven’t ever been to a game night, but it sounded sort of fun and I knew Cami would go with me. Any time she’s around I have a good time, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt.

I’d like to say I’m working on my relationships with my teammates because Sophie told me I had to, but that wouldn’t be the full truth. That is how this all started, but I’m starting to enjoy having actual friends on the team. I’m starting to enjoy knowing that I have guys who have my back, even though I can’t help but think it won’t last.

I can’t quite shake the instinct to brace myself for something, even though that something isn’t real. Yet. We have our game against the Carolina Hurricanes coming up, and I know that isn’t helping with my efforts to overcome my high school trauma. I’m going to have to face Troy Price, center forward on the Hurricanes and the source of a lot of my issues currently, yet again.

We played together in high school and I thought we were friends, until everything happened and I learned how wrong I was. I’ve had to play against him often during my years in professional hockey, and you’d think over time the rage and embarrassment would simmer down, but it hasn’t. I don’t know how to break out of the cycle, and that almost makes it all worse.

I shake my head to clear it as I cross around the back of the car to open Cami’s door for her. She’s been purposefully ignoring that conversation we need to have about my feelings for her, but I know she’ll get there eventually. For now, I’ve been trying to show her in small ways how good we could be together. Slowly breaking some of the rules and showing her affection in public and in private. I’m hoping that will help whenever we do finally have that conversation.

She’s holding the queso and a bag of chips in her lap. The game night is being held at Soren’s townhome, which is literally steps from Central Park. It’s a five story townhome that was built in the 1890s but has been completely gutted and redone. This is my first time hanging out here, but I’m already in awe from just the outside of it and the proximity to the park. I can tell Cami feels the same by the way her jaw dropped as we got closer and never returned back to normal.

She clutches the closed crock pot in her hands and I hold the bag of chips as we make our way up the steps to the front door. A few moments later, someone pulls it open.

“Hey, so glad you could make it,” Mia says cheerfully as she stands in the doorway.

“Girl, you did not tell me you lived in a place like this,” Cami says as she widens her eyes and steps inside.

“Well, you didn’t really ask,” she replies with a laugh. “But thank you. It’s a privilege to live here.”

“Thanks for having us,” I say in greeting as we enter.

We make our way through the entryway hallway and into the kitchen. The cabinets are all white and the countertops are made out of a white marble. The space is clean, yet homey and cozy, sort of how Cami has made my penthouse feel.

“Hey, man, good to see you,” Soren says as he grabs my hand in his and pulls me to him for a bro hug. I hug him back and when I pull away I catch Cami smiling over at us affectionately. I know she’s been pleased by my growing relationships with my teammates, but especially Soren. I think it’s just because she likes Mia, but regardless I’m glad we have another couple we can spend time with.

“You can make a plate and we’ll gather in the living room. Theo is already in there,” Mia says before grabbing her plate full of appetizers and leaving the kitchen. Soren sticks around, adding queso to his plate and grabbing chips.

“You go ahead, babe, I’ll get your plate,” I tell Cami as I press a kiss to her head. She smiles up at me.

“You sure you know what I want?”

“I think I can make a good guess. Give me a shot and I’ll come back and switch things out if I don’t get it right.”

“Okay, you got it, superstar.” She leans up on her tiptoes and pops a quick kiss to my lips before turning and heading into the living room behind Mia.

“She’s got you good there, bud.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

“You totally could, and I would happily admit it.”

We smile at each other, sharing a moment of camaraderie before I pile Cami’s plate with some veggies, ranch, chips, queso, and a few slices of salami from the charcuterie board. Walking into the living room, I find Adams sitting in a large chair at one narrow end of the coffee table in the center of the room. There are loveseats on either side of it and the two women have taken their spots on either one, leaving room for Soren and I next to each one of them. I place the plate in front of Cami and settle in next to her.

“Look okay?”

“It’s perfect, thanks,” she says, smiling softly at me.

We start off playing a game called Chameleon. Everyone in the group gets a card, and one person is deemed the chameleon. The goal is not to let on to anyone that you are the chameleon, but it’s tricky because everyone else gets a code on their cards that tells them a specific word. Then you go around one at a time and have to say a word that relates to that word without hesitating.

So, for example, if the word was bread you might say dough or bagel or toast. But if you’re the chameleon you don’t know that the word is bread. You have to figure it out and try not expose yourself as having no idea what the word is. It’s tricky, but really fun, and I can immediately tell that Cami is the first chameleon because she’s put her left hand under her thigh. It’s a nervous tick she’s had for as long as I’ve known her, and I debate whether or not I’m going to call her out on it.

At the end of each round, the group goes around and votes who they think the chameleon is. Although I know who my guess would be, I decide to pick on Soren instead and let her survive another round.

When he flips his card around, we all see we were wrong and it’s revealed that Cami was in fact the chameleon. She becomes the dealer for the next round and we go again. We play countless rounds before switching over to Monopoly, which everyone knows takes forever to play to completion. We do it though, staying out until the early hours of the morning sipping on wine and moving our metal pieces around the board.

Watching her effortlessly fit in with this group of my teammates and friends isn’t a surprise to me, but it’s another reminder that this could work. She fits into my life seamlessly and I love having her in it, in this role. She balances me out and makes me better and I don’t want that to end when I get my next contract.

I mull over my thoughts as we finish up our game and say our goodbyes, following after Cami to the car. We make our way back to my place, because she still hasn’t left, and she reaches over the console of the car to grab ahold of my hand. I smile to myself at her initiation of physical contact.

“How are you feeling about the game tomorrow?” she asks.

“I’m feeling fine.” I know my tone is short, but I really don’t feel like discussing it after such a good night.

“It’s the Hurricanes…” she trails off, not needing to finish the thought or question. I know what she’s asking. She doesn’t know exactly what happened back in high school that turned my entire personality from charismatic and lively, to quiet and reserved, but she knows it has something to do with Troy.

“Yeah, it is. It’s okay, Cam, I’m good.”

“You’re sure? I’ll be there in the stands. If you need me, I’ll come straight to you.”

“Thanks, baby. I promise I’m okay. As long as he doesn’t come chirping at me and I stay away from him, everything should be fine.”

“What if he does? Chirp at you I mean,” she asks. Chirping is a hockey term for when someone on the opposing team trash talks you or the team. It’s annoying, and used to get people out of the game and into their heads, but it usually doesn’t work on me.

“I’ll ignore it. He’s just insecure and I’ve moved on.” I know even as I’m saying it that it isn’t entirely the truth. I haven’t moved past it, because I still can’t even talk about it. It seems so silly, like it wasn’t even that big of a deal, but I just can’t get myself to open up and be vulnerable when it comes to this.

“Okay, but just be careful out there.”

“Always.”

She smiles over at me, then pulls her phone out when she hears it ring. It’s really late, or early I guess, so her getting a phone call at this time is weird.

“Who is that?” I ask.

“It’s Collette,” she replies as she swipes to answer the call. “Hey, Coco. You okay?”

I hear her sister’s muffled voice as she replies, and watch Cami’s face go from worried, to relieved, then to frustrated.

“You’re lucky I’m awake right now. If I had been asleep and you had woken me up to talk about the groomsmens’ tuxedo colors, I would not be a happy sister.”

I roll my eyes, laughing a little at her sister’s antics. She’s been pretty frenzied planning this wedding, but I can tell they’re a good match from what I’ve gathered. Cami likes the guy and I’m glad; I just wish they could be a little more respectful of my girl and how she lives her life.

“I think you should just go with black. It’s classy and simple and won’t cause anyone’s eyes to be off of you two.” She pauses. “I know I’m right. Now I need to go, we’re just getting home and I want to wash my face and go to bed.” Another pause. “I told you I was dating someone, Coco, remember I said I was bringing him to the wedding.” She turns away from me so I can’t see her expression at all. “Yes, I was being serious. Are you kidding? I’m bringing a plus one, so if you didn’t factor that in you’re going to need to. I don’t have time to help you with this right now. I love you, bye.”

She presses a button to hang up the call and throws the phone forcefully back into her purse, then pulls her hand back into her lap.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about it then.”

It’s like the words release the tension within her and she takes a deep breath, then sulks against the seat of the car and closes her eyes.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You don’t ever have to talk about anything you aren’t ready to talk about yet. But, if you’ll let me, I’d like to hold your hand.” She opens her eyes and turns her head so she’s looking at me, no doubt trying to figure out why I’m asking her to give me her hand back when she just took it away. “You can feel whatever you’re feeling, but you need to know you aren’t alone. I’d like to sit with you in it and hold your hand and remind you I’m here.”

She just stares at me for a few seconds, then wordlessly flips her palm up and holds it out to me. I take it in mine and begin rubbing circles on the heel of her hand with my thumb. She shivers, but I ignore it and just continue to drive.

“Thank you,” she whispers as we pull into the parking garage.