Page 10

“It took them, like, five years to get pregnant, so when he says hard work…” Ari trails off, and the two of them laugh.

I fly to my feet, yanking my mother from her chair, and not only to avoid hearing about my parents’ sex life but the reminder of how hard it was for my parents to have a child when my mother is the picture of health. “Ice cream. Let’s go.”

“Oh, I’m not missing this!” Vivian jumps up, rushing to my side with a huge smile.

“Don’t forget the sprinkles!” my dad shouts.

The women laugh, linking their arms in mine and steering me. We get in line behind two Avix U football players, waiting for our turn to make a sundae, when my mom squeezes me suddenly.

I look down at her, a small frown building, when she waggles her brows. And then a throat clears from behind and ruins all the fucking fun.

The traitorous women who most definitely did not want ice cream giggle and gawk, eyes bouncing from me to the person I refuse to acknowledge who, shocker, was sitting on the bench right next to the ice cream table.

“Cameron!” my mom mutters through her teeth, a big fat smile on her face.

It’s a reminder not to be rude. Too bad she doesn’t know he deserves it.

Unlike Vivian, she’s not the most perceptive person in the world, but to be fair I don’t think Vivian has picked up on it yet either, and I haven’t given them any sort of interaction to study.

They will most definitely analyze the shit out of this now.

Lips pinched in a tight line, I spin around, not expecting him to be so close. I stumble slightly, and his hands shoot out to catch me, latching on to my waist.

Our eyes lock and he smiles. For a moment, I forget to be angry, the chill of his hands on the sliver of exposed skin just below the hem of my shirt short-circuiting my brain .

“Wait, I know you!” Vivian approaches, and I can hear her smile. “You’re a quarterback as well, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Both moms seem to melt, and I flick my eyes to the sky.

“You play well. Quick on your feet,” Vivian says, complimenting him.

“Thank you.” His eyes fall to mine, and I glare at him, my back to my family. “I didn’t mean to interrupt?—”

“So why did you?”

He pushes a little closer, and I hold my breath as his arm moves around me, only to lift once more and reveal he’s picked his phone up from the tabletop. He gives it a little shake before stuffing it in his pocket. “I was sitting here.”

Yeah, no shit.

My mom fights a laugh, and I whip around to find her hand on her mouth, though she quickly spins, facing literally nothing behind her.

“Are we even getting ice cream?” I ask.

Vivian nods. “Mm-hmm.” She moves forward, scooping some into a bowl at a snail’s pace. “So what’s your name again, young man?”

“I’m—”

“Alister, this is Mason’s loving and devoted Martha Stewart of a mother, Vivian,” I say, jumping in.

Alister’s face falls and he lowers his gaze, having enough sense to look slightly guilty.

“And I guess I’m chopped liver, also known as Clair, Cameron’s mom.” My mother’s voice is teasing, and she sticks a hand out to shake his. “It’s lovely to meet you, Alister.”

“You too, ma’am.”

I step aside, so I’m not sandwiched between the two and have enough space to turn if needed—or drag one of them away should it come to that.

“So why have you been staring at my daughter all afternoon? ”

Dear god. I sigh, pinning her with a look.

“She’s impossible to look away from,” Alister says, and my head whips right back around.

I glare at him, and he fucking winks.

Winks!

I swear, if my mother still had her uterus, it would be fluttering. Country women, man. They love a good wink.

I’d like to tear his eyelashes off one by one.

“So how do you two know each other?” Vivian asks, making a second, smaller ice cream bowl that can only be for baby Deaton, what with the Froot Loops she adds to the top.

“We were fuck buddies all last year, and he wants to be again,” I deadpan.

Alister’s eyes shoot wide in horror, and after a single second, my family responds exactly how I anticipated.

They laugh loudly, shaking their heads, completely undeterred and used to my shit. I am my father’s daughter after all. If only they knew I wasn’t teasing.

It takes a moment, but Alister relaxes—though only a little; his laughter is stiff and fake.

I scoot forward, slapping two giant scoops of vanilla into a bowl and dumping a mountain of sprinkles on top.

There’s a shuffle behind me, and I don’t have to look to know he moved closer. Then his lips find my ear.

“Don’t forget the chocolate syrup,” he rasps.

The memory sends heat through me, and I don’t mean to look to the side, but our gazes catch regardless.

His eyes soften, regret and longing so easily seen that I become instantly aware of the audience we have.

Vivian and my mother have gone quiet, but I see them out of the corner of my eye. There will be no missing that.

“Cam,” he whispers, stepping in more.

“Don’t.”

“Baby, please,” he murmurs, reaching for me .

My eyes start to close, the anticipation of his touch making me warm and fluttery, but then a sound somewhere to the side snaps me out of my momentary lapse in sanity.

I tear back, jerk away from the table, walk around my mom and Vivian, and speed back toward our group. Of course, that would be too easy, and this man clearly intends to make himself hard to forget.

“Wait.” Alister’s heavy footsteps follow. “Cameron, wait. Please just?—”

I spin around, slapping the ice cream into his neck, smearing it down his chest.

His hands go up, shocked at the cold or the act—maybe both, I don’t know—but I only blink at the man.

“Is Allana a fan of sprinkles? Maybe she can lick it off you later,” I whisper, saying without saying fuck him and his memory of warm chocolate combined with the softness of his lips.

When I rejoin the group, my dad notices my empty hands and Brady notices my mood. I avoid my dad’s gaze in favor of Brady’s. He goes to launch himself up, but before he can, I shove his shoulder, dropping onto his lap.

His lips find my ears instantly and I know he spotted Alister. “Get up. Now.”

“No,” I mutter.

“Cameron.”

“Brady.”

“Get. Up .”

I shift, meeting his eyes, and whisper, “If I get up, you’re going to make a scene…in front of our entire family, his family, everyone on your team’s families. Just leave it.”

“Tell me what he did.”

I sigh. “He…made me miss him.” I scoff, closing my eyes at how dumb it sounds, and when I reopen them, Brady is staring down at me.

His mouth presses in a firm line, tiny worry lines forming along his forehead, but he settles back, no longer trying to escape me.

“Okay, I’ll leave him be today,” he concedes in a whisper. “But tell me I can lay him on his ass at least once next practice.”

I huff and face forward, leaning into his warm chest. “Ask me tomorrow.”

Brady chuckles, though it’s rough, and gives my sides a quick squeeze. As he goes back to his conversation with his dad, his lips slide across my temple in support. I drop my head onto his shoulder, staring up at the clear blue sky, trying to make sense of my thoughts.

When I turn to the side a few minutes later, catching my dad’s eye, he cocks his head, studying me closely, so I give him the most reassuring smile I can muster.

His frown is instant, but then he shifts his gaze to the man behind me, and when he finally does look away, it’s with a secretive smile on his lips.

Sighing, I close my eyes, my current reality becoming clear: I still have feelings for Alister Howl.

What’s worse, no matter how much I wish they would, I’m not sure there’s anything that will make them go away…

Is there?