Page 15 of Playmaker

Maddie

I half expected Cameron to join us for dinner. The times he’s declined have been few and far between, and him coming out with us has never put me on edge before. For the past six years I’ve avoided him at all costs, sitting on the opposite side of the table, and while I’d listen closely to his and Ethan’s conversation, I’d never join in. Instead, I’d speak to my parents about school, or whatever book I’d been reading at the time.

But tonight Cameron doesn’t give me the choice to escape. Tonight Cameron sits directly beside me, our thighs pressed together beneath the elaborate tablecloth.

Since we’ve all been away at school, my parents splurged on a fancy dinner at one of the most expensive Italian restaurants in downtown Phoenix. It’s the kind of place where your napkin should be on your lap and you should know the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork. We don’t come here often, but when we do, we all dress up for the occasion. If we didn’t wear our best, we’d stick out like sore thumbs.

Maybe that’s the reason my body feels electrified sitting beside Cam. He’s wearing a pair of dress pants that hug his figure just right, with a long-sleeved white button-down shirt left partially open to reveal the tiny bits of chest hair he has. That damn gold chain glistens beneath the dim lights of the restaurant, and I wonder if he wore it on purpose. I’m not going to be able to focus on eating let alone speaking. Not when my thoughts are clouded with the memory of tugging on that chain during our frenzied kiss.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, and Cameron notices, staring down at me with an amused expression. “Everything okay?”

No . Goose bumps pebble my skin, and it has nothing to do with the temperature. The red satin dress I chose to wear seems like a horrible idea now that the fabric feels like a caress against my nipples—the kind of caress that reminds me of Cameron’s fingers.

“I’m fine,” I reply, as if the rippling heat from his body isn’t utterly distracting.

Thankfully, my father interrupts. “So, what’s everyone getting?”

Ethan, who is sitting to my left, rambles about the steak he deserves after his and Cameron’s hard-core workout earlier this evening. I do my best to focus on the menu, but then I feel a hand on my knee beneath the table.

Every muscle tenses at his touch. My skin is like live wire , waiting and on edge to see where he’ll move next. I want him everywhere, and yet I want him nowhere. We’re at dinner with my family. Has he lost his mind?

“Their risotto is to die for,” Mom says.

His fingers create small circles on the inside of my knee, completely unaffected when he delves into sports with my father, and Ethan indulges my mom about what his favorites on the menu are.

How can he do this and not be suffocated by the need to kiss me? I want him to stop teasing and tackle me on this table. Right here. Right now.

“What about you, Maddie?” Mom asks. “What’s your favorite here?”

“Oh, um.” I blink down at the menu, suddenly forgetting every fucking dish this place makes when Cameron trails his fingers higher to my inner thigh. I should have worn tights beneath this dress. I should have made it difficult for him, but I didn’t. It’ll be too easy for him to slide his hand up to feel my silk panties. It’ll be too easy for him to slide them to the side and—

The question .

Right .

What was it again?

“She always gets the fettuccine,” Ethan supplies, oblivious to what’s going on beneath the table. “Basic as hell.”

“I’m not—” Fuck . His hand is on my pussy now, his middle finger dragging up and down the fabric of my underwear over my slit. I have to clear my throat to try again, and Cameron covers his mouth with his free hand to stifle a laugh.

I’m going to kill him .

Yet here I am, parting my thighs slightly wider to grant him more access.

“I’m not basic,” I reply with more confidence. Thankfully, we’re interrupted when the waiter brings us our garlic bread, so no one notices my clumsiness. I’m quick to snatch a piece if only to have an excuse not to speak because my mouth is full.

Cameron grabs one, too, eating with one hand while moving my panties to the side and sliding that middle finger of his up and down my soaking wet slit. He shifts subtly in his seat, but it’s a dead giveaway to me that he’s finding this difficult too. For whatever reason, that excites me.

He’s playing with my clit as I stuff my face with garlic bread to tamp down my moans. We must be pretty good at this considering my family hasn’t so much as looked in our general direction.

One second I’m in a lust-filled daze, and the next Cameron rips his hand from between my thighs while wearing that cocky grin of his. His eyes flick to mine, and I can see his fingers glistening with my arousal when he brings them to his mouth and licks them .

My body is on fire.

“Mmm,” he hums. “That garlic bread is delicious.”

“Isn’t it?” my mom adds. “I swear, I can’t find another place like this. It’s expensive, but completely worth it. Don’t you think so, Richard?”

“Definitely,” he agrees. “One of our favorite date spots.”

“Speaking of dates . . . ” Ethan wipes his hands on a napkin and twists toward me. I’m praying my face doesn’t look as red as it feels. My brother doesn’t react when he adds, “Mark was working out in the gym today, too, with us, and he asked me if I could text him your number. He wants to ask you out.”

Cameron stiffens beside me, the lust in the air between us evaporating with my brother’s words.

“He does? Did you give him it?”

“Well, I was going to until Cameron suggested I ask you first.”

I arch a brow in said person’s direction. “Oh really?”

“Yeah.” Ethan continues. “We think Mark is a stand-up guy, so if you’re cautious about going on a date with him because you’re wary of his intentions, don’t be. We want you to go for it.”

“We?” The question comes out before I can stop it, but what the hell? I thought Cameron and I were exploring things, not messing with other people. I said there’d be no expectations, but that didn’t mean we could fool around with whomever we wanted.

Oh god .

Is he messing around with other girls?

Is that why he agreed to exploring things? Because he wants to play the field?

It’s clear I didn’t express my wants enough if that’s how he’s viewing things. Obviously, whatever connection I thought we had isn’t emotional. Our friendship might be, but anything past that? Purely physical.

Then again, why am I surprised? He told me he doesn’t do relationships. They aren’t his thing. What was I expecting? Him to become a changed man after we messed around a few times?

I’m an idiot.

An utter idiot.

“Is that the boy who used to play football with you guys?” Mom asks. She takes a sip of wine, and I’ve never been more jealous of her for being of legal age. If I was twenty-one, I’d down an entire glass in seconds.

Just two more years .

When Ethan nods, she smiles. “Oh, I always liked him. You should let him have your number, honey. He seems like a nice boy.”

Cameron hasn’t touched another piece of garlic bread. His hands are clenched on the sides of his chair and a muscle is feathering in his jaw, but he has no reason to be upset when he’s all but shoving me into Mark’s arms. Sure, he was up front and honest about not wanting a relationship, but I thought we’d at least be exclusive while we explored.

He’s probably been exploring with the redhead and Jessica from the park too.

If this is how he wants it to be, then fine.

Two can play that game, Cameron .

Turning to give my brother a dazzling smile, I say, “I was hoping he’d ask you. I’d love for you to give him my number. I’m long overdue for a date.”

“Awesome,” he replies. “I’ll text him after dinner, then.”

I continue to force a smile the entirety of our meal, but I can hardly eat. My heart is shattering, and just as I predicted, I’m a crumpled up piece of paper.

I said there’d be no expectations, but I’d be lying if I said there weren’t. I thought this was the time Cameron would go back to the boy I used to know, and now that we finally crossed the line of intimacy, I assumed it meant something.

But just like all the times before, I’m left disappointed, and I have no one to blame but myself and the false perception I have of the boy sitting beside me.

And this time, when Cameron goes to put his hand back on my knee, I slap it away.