Page 35

THIRTY-FOUR

The next morning, I woke up before my alarm went off.

While my eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the early morning light sneaking in through the curtains, I smiled like a content kitten.

Most nights, I tossed and turned for hours before drifting off to sleep, unable to shut off my brain long enough to let myself rest. But laying nestled in Cam’s arms all night, I slept better than I had in years, enjoying the secure comfort of his hold.

As I stretched my arms out, I glanced over and checked the time.

Barely even five. I still had another thirty minutes before I had to get up and start my day, and I wasn’t going to waste a single one.

Shifting around to face the other side of the bed, I grabbed for Cam, but his side of the bed was empty.

I burst up, fearing the worst. Was this a mistake?

Did having me in here trigger some kind of internal alarm, and now he needed to get some space?

Past anxieties made my heart stutter an uneven beat, hating how sitting in his bed alone sliced open past wounds.

Luckily, it only lasted for a couple more seconds.

The bathroom door opened, and steam billowed out into the rest of the room.

Cam stepped out, running a towel through his damp hair, already dressed in his travel uniform of a suit and a collared shirt.

The dark gray material clung to Cam’s muscles, and it made my thighs ache, cursing the boundaries we’d put into place last night.

“Not fair,” I grumbled, tucking myself back under the covers. “You shouldn’t get to look like that first thing in the morning.”

“Can’t help being this handsome, menace.” Despite already being dressed, Cam slid back into bed next to me. As his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against him, he groaned. “Fuck, Hads. Having you in here is the best kind of torture.”

“Why is that?” I pulled the blankets to my chin.

“You pressed up against me all night? Knowing I couldn’t make you feel good?” His nose trailed along the column of my neck. “Took everything in me to hold back.”

“Thank you.” I shifted to face him. I reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his brow. “For listening to me. But if it’s too hard?—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Cam leaned down and kissed me softly.

“Told you last night, I want you in here with me.” I was about to lean into the kiss, tempted to throw my rules out the window, when his phone rang on the end table.

“Shit.” He dropped his head onto my shoulder.

“That’s Damien. He offered to pick me up and drive me to the airport. ”

“Leaving already?” His schedule was hectic, even more than I ever thought it would be when I first saw the game line-up.

There was little downtime, only a day or two between series, and most of the time, he was traveling to the next city with the team.

He worked so hard. I wanted nothing more than for Cam to achieve his dreams, to become one of the best players in the league.

However, constantly watching him leave was also getting harder, especially when he’d be gone for a long stretch like this one.

I plastered a smile on my face, forcing away any lingering doubts.

“Yeah,” he said. “Gotta be in LA for the game tonight. But I’ll be back on Friday afternoon.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the ache in my chest. Despite the newness of our relationship, it was like he took a piece of me with him when he walked out the door, but I refused to let that show on my face. “Be safe, sarge.”

“I will, menace.” He leaned down and kissed me one more time. His hand darted up to my hair, holding me close for a few more seconds. “Fuck, Hadley,” he whispered against my skin. “This is harder than I thought.”

“I know what you mean,” I said. “Normally, I’d revel in you leaving for four days, but now, it’s like torture.”

He nodded, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to call you guys tonight. Do me a favor—sleep in here? It helps knowing you’re waiting in my bed.”

My throat dried at his request. The idea of going back to Victoria’s room never crossed my mind.

Even though Cam wasn’t here, I wanted to be in his space, to hold on to his presence despite us being states apart.

I swallowed, trying to force away the knot forming in the back of my throat. “I can do that.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, long and luxurious, like we had all the time in the world. And maybe we would—when the season was done. But for now, his team depended on him.

“Go,” I insisted, pushing on his chest. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you come home to us. ”

He grinned back at me. “I like the sound of that—coming home to you.”

“Go. Go. GO!” I screamed at the television, not caring how loud I’d gotten.

It was the second game of the series, and LA had clinched the first win.

Now, the Hawks were battling hard for the second game.

Cam had played most of the first seven innings and was doing incredibly well in the outfield, despite his initial concerns.

Over the past few hours, the living room had transformed into a miniature version of the stadium.

Snacks and hard seltzers filled the coffee table, and we’d all worn our favorite Hawks jerseys.

The game was blaring on the television in the center of the room, and we’d jumped to our feet during the last inning, unable to sit with all the anticipation coursing through our veins.

Even Brianna, who only came for moral support, was getting into the game, screaming almost as loud as me when LA’s outfielder dropped the ball.

We waited with bated breath as the ball flew through the air, trying to beat Damien’s speed, but it was no match.

After meeting Damien twice, I never would have guessed what a beast he was on the field.

The man raced toward the base, his legs moving faster than should have been humanly possible, and dove just as the second baseman’s mitt stretched out to catch the ball.

As he turned to tag Damien, he slid right into the base, looking up at the umpire for the final call.

“Safe!”

The entire room erupted, almost eclipsing the announcer, when Damien stood and dusted off his pants at second base, leaving only first open for the next batter. The score was close, but the Hawks built a ton of momentum in this inning. If they did well, it would be LA's game to lose.

“Okay, boys. Just a couple more runs, and you’ve got this on lock.” I took a sip of my drink. “Get some runs before we get to the end of the batting order.”

“Hadley, I’m like a proud momma duck right now.” Ollie smirked as she settled back on the couch. “Considering you didn’t know a ref from an ump a month ago, you sound like a seasoned pro.”

“That’s because my daddy’s teaching her.” Emilia smiled next to her. She looked adorable in her bedazzled Hawks’ jersey, the Seda on the back now sparkling with small rhinestones. We’d just finished it an hour before the game, and she insisted on wearing it every single time her daddy played.

“Love that!” Ollie squealed as she jumped out from the couch. She looked over at Brianna. “You want another drink?”

Brianna looked down at the almost-empty can in her hands. “Oh, I’m not sure. Todd might get upset if I have more than one.”

“Because he doesn’t like you driving after drinking?” I asked. “There’s a lot of game left. You’re more than welcome to crash here if you’re not sober enough to head home.”

Brianna shook her head. “Nothing like that. I’d never risk drinking and driving. He just doesn’t like it when I go out, especially if alcohol’s involved.”

“Todd sounds like a barrel of laughs,” I muttered to myself, but as soon as the batter started walking up to the plate, I shushed everyone. “Oh my God, Cam’s up! Emilia—Daddy’s up!”

A phone chimed from the other side of the room, but I ignored it, too focused on the screen in front of me. “Hadley, that’s your phone,” Briana said as she shifted to pass it to me. “It’s your mom.”

“I’ll call her back later.” I wasn’t letting another one of her guilt trips ruin tonight for me. It had been a while since we spoke, mostly because I knew she’d find some reason to make my happiness about her. Instead, I turned around and motioned for Emilia to join me.

She danced up next to me, and we clutched hands as Cam grabbed his bat and walked up to the plate.

The heavy bass of his walk-up song blared through the stadium, all eyes on him.

I could only imagine the pressure on his shoulders right now.

With the bases almost loaded, it was up to him to get the guys home, especially because they only had one more out.

If he fucked this up, LA might win the game and take the series.

“Come on, baby,” I whispered the words and clutched Emilia’s hand like a prayer. “You’ve got this. You can do it.”

The pitcher eyed Cam down, looking too serious for his own good.

But Cam didn’t seem phased, keeping his eye trained straight ahead.

Nothing seemed to bother him when he was in the game, too focused for anything to get in his way.

He belonged on that field. Even with my limited baseball knowledge, I could see that.

And with all his hard work this season, everyone else saw it too.

He had the speed, the agility. Now, he just needed to get this hit to bring his team home.

The first ball flew before I even saw the pitcher move. Cam didn’t bat; he just let it fly into the catcher’s hand.

“Ball one!” the umpire shouted, and the announcers echoed it to the crowd.

Shit, my heart was about to give out under this pressure. How on Earth did Cam survive 162 games of this every year? If I was freaking out while watching thousands of miles away. How did Cam cope?

If the pressure weighed on him, he didn’t show it. He just shook his head, keeping an easy grin on his face. The pitcher wound up and threw the ball so fast, it was barely a blur on the screen.

But Cam saw it.

With a crack of his bat, he swung as hard as his body allowed, throwing all his power into the hit. The ball soared past the infield, heading toward the upper left half of the stadium.

“Keep going! Keep going!” Ollie shouted behind me.

And it did.

The ball flew right over the outfield and up into the stands, where dozens of people volleyed to get it. I smiled when the camera panned to a little boy, not much older than Emilia, holding it triumphantly in the air.

But the grin on Cam’s face eclipsed that joy.

His first major league home run. He leisurely ran around the bases, slapping the hands of the coaches and teammates as he passed them by.

The crowd went wild, but Cam didn’t gloat.

His smile was gracious, not at all cocky, but the elation in his eyes was clear.

He’d done it.

The dugout rallied around him once he got back inside, full of claps on the back and other congratulations.

Before he sat down, one of the relief pitchers dumped a bottle of sports drink over his head.

Cam grinned, shaking his head so it flew over the rest of the players.

It tugged at my heart, knowing he was so far away during this pivotal moment.

Emilia hugged my legs and beamed up at me.

Her pride in her dad shone through her eyes—I probably had the same expression.

The batter after Cam struck out, ending the inning. While the team changed positions, a reporter came on the screen, Cam standing at her side.

“Cam, that was your first home run since you’ve joined the Hawks. How did it feel?”

He broke into a wide grin. “Pretty damn amazing, to be honest. I didn’t want to let my team down.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” The reporter smiled up at him and placed her hand on his forearm.

My hands clenched, not appreciating her touching my man.

Woah. Where the hell did that come from?

I wasn’t a jealous person, at least, not normally.

But Cam meant something to me, maybe more than I even realized, and it was causing my inner possessive side to rear her ugly head.

The reporter continued, “Is there anything you’d like to say to your friends and family back home? ”

“Yeah,” he said. “Emilia, I hope you’re watching, because that was for you, little one. And to the rest of my family back home, I miss you more than you know.” He winked, and I knew the message was for me. “When I get back, we’re celebrating.”

I couldn’t agree more.