Page 7 of Playmaker

Cameron

Five years earlier

We’re gathered around the table at lunch—Mallory and Jackie sit beside me while Ethan, Penelope, and Jack, another member of the team, sit opposite us. Mallory is raving about the cheerleaders’ new routine for their upcoming competition, twirling a brown ringlet around her finger while she chomps on a piece of gum. She’s on a liquid diet, and the only reason I know this is because as soon as she sat down she bragged about how she’s already lost three pounds.

I couldn’t care less about their routine or what diet Mallory is on. The twins have taken a liking to me, and they’ve insinuated having a threesome at Jack’s upcoming party this weekend, so if I have to pretend to care about liquid diets and routines for the next few days, then so be it.

“Are you guys ready for the game this weekend?” Penelope shuffles closer to Ethan on the bench, flashing him a flirtatious grin that Ethan seems oblivious to.

“Yeah,” he replies, shoving another bite of fiestada pizza into his mouth. “This team will be easy to beat. No sweat.”

Jack rubs his hands together and wiggles his brows. “My cousin is bringing a keg for us for the after-party at my place. He goes to State.”

“Oooh,” Jackie drawls. “A college boy. Is he hot?”

I chuckle low and deep, watching as Jackie squirms on the bench. “Trust me, baby. You’ve got the hottest man sitting beside you.”

Ethan rolls his eyes. “Stop being a douchebag, Cameron.”

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Will Michael be there?” Penelope interrupts.

Maddie’s boyfriend? He’s in the same grade as us, but I avoid him like the plague for reasons I have yet to understand. There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s funny, smart, and he’s a great teammate. Maddie seems to be happy, and yet that doesn’t make me feel relieved in the least. I expected her to move on eventually and forget what happened between us on that beach, but I didn’t expect to feel so annoyed by Michael’s face whenever I see him.

“I think so. Yeah,” Jack replies.

“Good.” Penelope sits up straighter, satisfied by his answer. “I call an upstairs bedroom for us.”

Mine and Ethan’s gaze both shoot to hers. “Don’t bet on it,” Ethan says. “My sister is dating him.”

Penelope furrows her brows. “Who’s your sister?”

“Maddie Davis.”

She throws her back with laughter, and Mallory and Jackie join in, and irritation prickles along my skin. “The freshman? Yeah, he’s not having fun with her. At least that’s what he told me beneath the bleachers yesterday when we—” Her face turns red, and I haven’t noticed my grip on the table is damn near making a dent in it, but my knuckles are white, and all I can see is red.

Michael cheated on Maddie with Penelope?

Is he an idiot?

Ethan’s face more than likely is a reflection of mine. “He cheated on my sister?”

Realizing the ramifications of what she just revealed, Penelope’s face pales. “I—I mean, I thought he was ending things with her. He said he was going to before we—”

Ethan shoves back from the table, his tray slamming into mine. “I’m going to kill him,” he says, seething.

Anger is boiling beneath the surface, but unlike Ethan, it would be odd if I became outraged like he is. He’s Maddie’s older brother. He has a reason to be pissed. Michael is a junior trying to take advantage of a freshman, and although this information shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, I can’t help it.

I already broke her heart once.

She doesn’t need it broken again.

And that fucker Michael?

I’ll be damned if he lays another hand on her.

“As soon as I talk to Maddie, I’m cussing him the fuck out,” Ethan sneers.

But me? I’m already rising from the table, muttering an excuse about using the bathroom before I stalk off into the hallway like a lion searching for his prey.

—

“Hey.” Ethan joins me at my locker three periods later, eyeing the bandage wrapped around my fist. “I’m guessing that’s where Michael got his shiner from? I saw him in history. Everyone’s asking about it, but he won’t say who did it.”

I found that fucker in the parking lot coming back from lunch, and I don’t feel sorry about the punch I threw. My anger got the best of me, and looking back, maybe I could have handled things differently, but I was in the heat of the moment, picturing Maddie bawling her eyes out like she did in my living room after my mom passed. I threatened to make his life a living hell if he told a soul it was me. I’m the captain of the football team, after all. I have the authority to exile him from every party and all the girls in school if I want.

It infuriated me that Michael cheated on Maddie of all people. It’s ironic, really, considering I’ve cheated on plenty of girls. I’m not going to claim that I’m a saint because I’d be lying. Who am I to judge Michael when I’m a fucking clone of him? Ethan has covered for me plenty of times when girls become suspicious. I never date them, but I have claimed to be exclusive only to turn around and fuck the next girl who asks.

But Maddie?

I’d never cheat on her.

Never in a million years.

And we may not be on speaking terms ever since our fight two years ago, but that doesn’t mean I won’t look out for her and protect her as much as I can.

“He deserved it,” I mutter. “Don’t say anything, all right? If anyone asks, just . . .”

“I’ll say I did it,” he says. “Unless I get called into the office or something. Then you’re fucked.”

“You don’t have to cover for me.”

“Yes, I do. It should have been me who punched him anyway. I’m her brother, you know? But I know you’re her older brother, too, in a way, so thank you. For looking out for her.”

Right.

That’s what I’m doing.

Looking out for her like an older brother.

—

The revving of Mark’s car pulling onto the street stayed with me long after Ethan and I got back to his house. I had no reason to wait for her to return. I haven’t been her friend in years, but that didn’t stop my heart from racing as my mind wandered to what the hell she was doing with Mark until two in the morning. My feelings toward Mark are growing dangerously close to how I felt about Michael, and I don’t like it one bit. I’m used to feeling nothing. Being emotionless. But when it comes to Maddie, I feel everything too much.

Is she still drunk?

It’s pitch black in the living room. Only the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the dining room fills the silence. Ethan went to bed when we got home, but it’s not unusual for me to sleep on the couch. I’m pretty sure the cushions are indented from how many times I’ve slept here.

Finally, fifteen minutes later, I hear the jangling of keys and the front door opening. The hardwood floor creaks beneath her feet, and then the fridge opens, casting a golden glow in the living room.

I should leave her alone, but the longer we go without speaking, the more it upsets me. I’ve been trying to pinpoint why the silence between us has been troubling me so much since I returned. We’ve ignored each other for the past six years, and I was fine with that because it was the right thing to do, but this is the first time I’ve come home from college where it doesn’t feel like the right thing to do. Why is that? Because I’m at a place in my life where I don’t hate the world? Because maybe a minuscule part of me believes I could be healed enough to let her back into my life?

Whatever the reason, I can’t stop thinking about her, and rather than sit back and let myself be miserable about it, I’m going to do something.

When I stand up from the couch, Maddie notices me and jumps back with a hand placed over her heart. “Jesus,” she breathes. “I didn’t realize you were sleeping here. What are you still doing up?”

I point to the freezer rather than answer her question. “The pizza is behind the frozen lasagna.”

“I wasn’t looking for pizza,” she replies.

“No? Has your late-night snack craving changed in the past six years?”

I inch closer until I can clearly see her face. The red lipstick hasn’t moved out of place, and her hair is still pin straight. She doesn’t look like she’s been messing around in the back of a car, and the hope that fills my chest because of that observation is pathetic. Thankfully, the glassy look in her eyes has faded, too, which means she’s not drunk anymore. At least I hope not.

“Fine.” Her shoulders slump in defeat when she tugs out the pizza. “But this doesn’t mean you still know me. I’ve changed a lot since—”

Since the night she left my house bawling her eyes out. She doesn’t have to remind me. The image replays in my head on a constant loop.

“What’s new about you, then? Aside from the fact you’ve become a bore.”

She gasps. “I have not become a bore! I’ve always been like this.”

“Have you?” I cock my head to the side and study her as she slides the pizza into the preheating oven. I’m pushing her on this only to get under her skin. I know she’s been a bookworm since the moment she could read, but that night in Myrtle Beach was different. She showed a side of herself I didn’t realize existed.

It’s a version I miss intensely.

One I saw a glimpse of tonight when she sped off in that car with Mark.

“I remember a much different version of you in middle school,” I continue, knowing she’s seconds away from packing a beautiful punch to my face. “You were always convincing me to do dangerous things. Like sneaking out, for example.”

It’s a low blow considering that the night I’m talking about was the night I almost made a move on her, but I’m desperate to know if she still remembers it.

Does it still haunt her the way it does me?

When she spins to face me, hands balled into fists at her sides, I have my answer.

“I wonder why I tried to become a daredevil in the first place, Cameron. Do you have any idea as to why I’d try to convince you to sneak out that night? Being outgoing isn’t my thing, but whenever you’re involved I seem to—” She clears her throat to stop herself.

“Look, Maddie, I don’t want to fight with you. I’m tired of fighting. All I’m trying to say is that seeing you leave with Mark was the first time I caught a glimpse of the old you, and I guess I didn’t realize how much I missed that version of you until tonight.” The speech comes out rushed. I don’t sound like myself at all, and Maddie is standing in the middle of the kitchen with her feet rooted to the floor, seemingly in shock.

“We have your family’s annual spring break trip to the Grand Canyon next weekend, and I don’t want things to be awkward between us anymore, so I’m proposing a truce of sorts.”

“A truce,” she repeats slowly.

“Yeah. I want us to go back to how things used to be between us. At least until we head back to school. It’ll be easier for everyone that way. Plus think about how happy it’d make your parents. You know they’ve been devastated since we had our falling out.”

“ I’m not the one who caused that,” she mutters.

“No, it was me. All me. What happened to our friendship was one hundred percent my fault. My mom had just passed, and after sneaking out onto the beach with you only a week prior, I—” Fuck, I’m not going to get into that now . “I was messed up, Maddie. I hated life and resented everything, and I couldn’t bear for you to become one of those things.”

Maddie shifts her gaze to the floor as I try desperately to blink back my tears.

“I wasn’t mature enough to admit I was wrong then, but I am now. You deserve to know how fucking sorry I am, and if you’ll let me, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll rebuild our friendship.”

Her eyes lift to mine, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Our friendship ?”

The word sounds thick on her tongue. We both know it’s because friendship is the furthest thing to describe what we had with each other, but I don’t know what else to call it. When break is over, we’ll be heading back to separate schools. A relationship has never been in the cards for us.

But for the next twelve days, I’m going to do whatever possible to fix things. Maybe if we go back to being friends the desire to kiss her lips won’t be as strong. Maybe if we stop ignoring each other I won’t want to grab her wrist and pull her against my chest to get her attention.

I don’t know if mending our friendship is the right thing to do, but what I was doing before isn’t working anymore, so it’s time for a change.

“A friendship that is extremely special to me,” I clarify.

She smiles softly, and damn if it doesn’t make my heart skip a beat. “I miss the old version of you too. The nerdy boy with glasses and braces who could never stop showing me his Pokémon card collection. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, too, and I appreciate your apology, Cam. It means the world to me. I— what ? Why do you have that look on your face?”

“Because you called me Cam . Does that mean we’re on a nickname basis now? You’re agreeing to the truce?”

She opens a drawer and pulls out a set of oven mitts. “The pizza should be done in a few minutes if you want some, and if you wish to be on a nickname basis again, I’ll agree to that. The truce , however . . .”

I step behind her to grab either side of the counter, caging her back against my chest. Vanilla and honey floods my senses and damn I didn’t realize how much the scent of her is like a drug to me.

The way her body relaxes against my chest almost makes me groan in pleasure. We’re standing too close. I need to step back, but now that I’ve got her in this position, it’s useless to try to escape.

I dip my mouth down to her ear and whisper, “You already gave me my answer about the truce, Mads.”

She twists her head to the side to meet my stare, and our lips are mere inches apart. If I leaned down just a fraction, I’d finally kiss her.

Temptation has never been so unfair.

“What makes you think that?” she asks.

“Because I know you, and you would never share your pizza with someone you don’t consider a friend.”

Her laugh, which is so foreign yet also familiar, tugs at my heartstrings with enough force to bring me to my knees. It’s a song I thought I forgot the lyrics to, but her laugh seems to be a tune I’ve subconsciously stored in the files of my memory, hoping one day I’d eventually get to dust it off again.

I was right .

“You’re right about the pizza,” she admits. “But to gain my friendship back you’re going to have to put in a lot of work.”

I chuckle against her skin. “Are you playing hard to get?”

“Maybe. Is that going to be a problem?” She steps back to check on the pizza, but when she does, her ass brushes against the front of my sweatpants. I’m fully hard from being this close to her, and when she feels my cock prodding against her ass, she makes no effort to move. Her body stills, and her breathing becomes erratic. My knuckles grow white on either side of her, and my hands are gripping the granite with so much force that I’m afraid it might crack at any given second.

This would be all too easy. Ethan is upstairs sleeping, and their parents don’t get back from their trip for another two days. All I’d have to do is hike this skirt up around her waist, bend her over the counter, and then I would rail her so hard that we’d rattle the dishes in the sink.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The grandfather clock in the next room waits for either of us to make a choice, but we don’t move a muscle. Whatever decision we make next will determine our future, and I don’t know if we’re ready for that.

Thankfully, an outside factor chooses for us. The oven dings, and we shoot apart before we do something we won’t be able to come back from. Maddie’s cheeks are flushed, and the rise and fall of her chest seems to be at the same rhythmic pace as mine.

Becoming friends again is going to be difficult if we keep finding ourselves in predicaments like these, but the hope is that this feeling of lust will fade if we rekindle our friendship.

Even thinking that sounds insane, but it’s worth a shot.

Maddie slides on the oven mitts and grabs the pizza before she asks, “Still want to have a truce?”

I keep my eyes trained on hers while she cuts the pie with lethal precision. “Now more than ever, Mads . Pass me a plate.”