Page 53

CHAPTER 53

Cami

Me

Update?

Charles

I just walked in the door.

Me

Have you seen Sophie yet?

Charles

Not yet.

Me

Text me as soon as you’re done

Charles

I will baby.

Charles

On my way home.

Me

What happened?

Me

Charlie?

I’ve been pacing the length of the living room since Charlie left, clutching the phone in my hand waiting for him to text or call or send a carrier pigeon or something. Everyone left about half an hour after he did to give us privacy when he came home, which I appreciated at the time but now I wish Alana or Mia were here.

My brain has been cycling through thought after thought as I’ve been walking in circles for the last hour and none of them are all that good. If he’s traded, how is that going to affect him? Is he going to fall right back into his old patterns and close off again? Isolating in a new location where he knows absolutely no one is not good for him in the slightest.

When he was here and trying to be alone, Alana and I could pull him out of it every once in a while or just drag him to one of our apartments to spend time with him. If he’s somewhere where he has no friends, who is going to do that for him? I know he said I could go with him, but we haven’t even figured out the logistics of that. What would I do about work?

Not to mention, the fact that we have no idea where he’d end up if he was traded. Hell, he could be going to the Hurricanes for all we know. If that were to happen I don’t even want to think about how he would react to that. I could see him retiring early if the Hurricanes were his only choice.

Or what if everyone on his new team is just like his team in high school? What if they hate the way he plays and they hate any amount of confidence he has and instead of being friends with him, they beat him down until he’s nothing but a shell of the person he’s worked so hard to bring back?

I’ve certainly thought myself into a spiral, which is about to turn into a full on tornado if he doesn’t either a) text me back, or b) walk through that door immediately. I groan in frustration and look down at my phone. Still nothing. He said he was on his way home half an hour ago and it normally doesn’t take much longer than that to get here.

Oh no. What if he got into a wreck?

Thankfully, I’m saved from myself when the door opens and Charlie walks in. I take stock of his entire body. He has an easy expression on his face, it’s not red from crying or stress. His eyes seem calm and at ease, but that’s not enough to assuage the anxiety climbing inside me, so I continue to scan.

His shoulders seem good, they’re down and not tensed up. His arms hang leisurely by his side and he isn’t fidgeting nervously with his hands like I am likely doing right now. The bottom half of him seems fine, so I scan my way back up searching for anything that is amiss.

“See something you like?” he says and winks.

The man winks at me. At a time like this, while I am on the verge of a breakdown? And he’s trying to be playful?

“Charlie, please tell me what’s going on. I’m out of my mind nervous right now.”

He steps forward and pulls me to him. I go willingly, always happy to be in his arms, and melt into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. It’s become home for me over the last few months.

“Everything is okay,” he whispers into my hair.

“They aren’t trading you?” I ask, pulling away to look up into his eyes. He’s smiling down at me, and I allow myself to take a breath. He doesn’t look like he’s devastated or delivering bad news.

“They aren’t trading me,” he says with a smile.

“Oh my gosh, why didn’t you call me and tell me that?” I exclaim, and shove his shoulder without any real fire behind it. “I’ve been pacing around this apartment worried for an hour and a half.”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to tell you everything in person.”

“There’s more?”

“Yeah, why don’t we take a seat and I’ll explain it all?”

He makes us both tea and we take a seat back on the loveseat. He pulls my legs into his lap so I’m practically sitting on top of him, and pushes my hair behind my ear lovingly. This feels very familiar to the last time he shared something deep with me.

“So, what did Sophie say?” I ask.

“That’s the thing, it wasn’t just Sophie. Coach and Matthew Montgomery were there too.”

“Matthew Montgomery as in the owner of the Rangers ?”

“The very one.”

“That seems…dramatic. Is it normal that he would attend a last minute meeting like this?” I ask, dread building in my stomach again. Why would he have been there?

“Not at all, I’ve only seen him at major team events and things like that.”

“Okay, so why was he there?”

“Well, Sophie told me that the story was given by someone and was a lie.”

“Why would they do that, though?”

“It was Troy,” he says. My blood boils as I remember all the things Troy has done to this sweet and kind man.

“I’m going to put glitter in his air vents,” I say before turning, setting my tea down, and starting to get up.

Charlie pulls me back to him. “Woah there, tiger. Glitter?”

“Imagine if you turned the air conditioning on in your car and glitter exploded out.”

His eyes widen. “That would take forever to get out.”

“Exactly,” I say, resolute in my idea.

“We will revisit that idea after we discuss everything else, because it isn’t a bad one.”

“He does live in North Carolina though, so we’ll have to workshop that. But please continue.”

“Right, so Troy sold the story to the New York Post and I guess had enough believable evidence that they thought it was true. Sophie told the Hurricanes management, but who knows if they’ll even do anything about it.”

“He cannot just get away with that.”

“I’m sure he’ll get some kind of suspension at the very least, but I couldn’t tell you exactly what that would look like.”

“Okay, fine. I want to make him suffer, but fine.”

“So vicious,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine. “I like it.”

“You’re killing me. I just want to know what happened.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. So they told me I wasn’t being traded but that still didn’t explain why Matthew was there. Until he pulled a stack of papers out of his briefcase.”

“He brought a briefcase to an emergency meeting?”

“Well, when you’re carrying important things like my contract to re-sign I guess you need one.”

“Wait,” I say, pressing my hand to his chest. His smile is bright and hopeful and it brings tears to my eyes. “They want to re-sign you? You got a contract?”

“Four more years.”

“No way! Charlie, that’s perfect. I am so happy for you.” I lean forward and press my lips to his. After a few moments he pulls back and smiles at me.

“Thank you, baby. That gives me four more years, and then I can decide about retirement once we get there. It was exactly what I could have hoped for, and I have you to thank for it.”

Me? Why would he have me to thank?

“You did all of this on your own. You’re out on the ice, not me.”

“It’s about more than the ice, though, which is why we’ve been doing everything we’ve been doing since December. Your help with social media and the list you made brought in so much positive publicity, it’s all thanks to you.”

“Well, sure that was part of it but you did a lot of the things on that list. I just came up with the ideas.”

“And like I said when you showed it to me the first time, you saved the best for last,” he says as he pulls the list out from his back pocket. I haven’t looked at the actual list since we discussed it back in December. I remember him making that comment about me putting myself last on the list. I didn’t believe him when he said it then, but I believe he feels that way about me now.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Cam.” He cups my face in his hands, his tea long forgotten on the coffee table. “This whole idea might have been insane when I first brought it to you, but I couldn’t be more grateful Sophie had the idea and you said yes. It brought me the best thing I could have ever asked for.”

“Charlie,” I say, unable to say much more.

“I love you, Cami.”

“I love you,” I say, then lean forward and kiss him deeply.

We spend the night tangled together, talking about the future and what things will look like now that we know he’s staying in New York.

“You should move in here,” he says a little while later as we lay in bed. I push up on my elbow so I can look down at him and gauge how serious he is. He looks pretty serious.

“Really?”

“I mean, only if you want to.”

“I want to,” I say, faster than is probably acceptable. “Do you mean like, let go of my place?”

“Yeah. You don’t need that apartment if you’re living in this one.”

I smile at him, then lean down and press a kiss to his lips. I flop down in the bed next to him and cuddle close, happy to call this place and this person home.