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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Alister

Her face is so expressive. That was one of the first things I learned about her.

She can’t hide how she feels, but more than that, I don’t think she tries to. She doesn’t shy away from her likes and dislikes, her desires, and the look in her eye tells me she feels a little of all three of those things for me.

The dislike sucks, but it’s outweighed by the others. I can work with that.

“So will he?”

Cameron blinks up at me, going the silent route as she takes a big bite of her food, her teeth scraping her fork to drive the point home—I’m on her nerves already. But that’s fine. At least she’s no longer telling me to fuck off.

I take a seat across from her, and she folds her feet beneath her, sitting up a little higher.

“Glad to know he’s not threatened by me,” I tease.

“Please.” She stabs her chicken, lifting her fork as she smirks at me. “He’s threatened by no one.”

“Because you’re so in love?” I joke. “Or because he wouldn’t know how to take a relationship serious enough to know he should be threatened?”

“You know nothing about him,” she snaps.

A small frown builds, her quickness to defend him rubbing me the wrong way, but I have to remind myself that they’re like family. Of course she’ll stand up for him, probably until she’s blue in the face. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

I lift my hands in surrender. “All right, my bad. I guess I assumed having played on the team with him for a season and a half, I might have some idea?—”

“What exactly are you getting at, Alister?” She pops the top of her soda, taking a small sip.

“Oh, nothing, I was just going to offer to keep an eye on him for you at next week’s game.”

“Why not this week, oh savior of mine?” She flutters her lashes mockingly.

“Well, this week, we’re playing at home again. Next week, we’re on the road. No one to report back to you if your man decides to go back to his player ways and shacks up with someone.”

“He won’t.”

I cock my head. “You sure?”

Cameron licks her lips. “You know, if this is your idea of being friendly, you suck at it.”

I laugh, unwrapping my roast beef sandwich, and take a couple bites.

We eat in silence for a few minutes, and it’s nice. I miss just being near her.

Cameron finishes too soon and starts to stand, but I swiftly reach out, gripping her wrist before she can, and her blue eyes pop up to mine.

“Come on, Cam. Hang out with me for a few minutes.”

“I should really?—”

“Just until I finish eating,” I interrupt. “Please.”

She stares at me a moment before a fake sigh leaves her, and she lowers back onto the seat. “Fine. I still have a brownie to eat, I guess.”

I let her go, grinning widely, and she hides hers by looking down at her tray.

“So what classes did you have today?” I ask .

“You mean your initial stalking skills from the first few weeks didn’t tell you all my secrets?”

“Only where to find you, but I did refrain from approaching all your professors.”

“Oh, yeah, so only the one in the class I was most looking forward to then, huh?”

“Hey, Thursday afternoon was my only free spot, and it’s hard to find a class that’s only in person once a week. You should feel flattered I want to spend what could be my afternoon off with you instead.”

She laughs, tearing off a corner of her brownie and tossing it in her mouth.

“You eat like a bird.”

Her smile brightens. “That’s what Brady says.”

My brows twitch, but I force my lips to stay tipped up. “Well, I guess we have more than just one thing in common.”

“Football?”

“Wanting to be your boyfriend.”

Her eyes snap up, narrowing. “Alister.”

“Sorry,” I chuckle, finishing off my sandwich and opening my fruit bowl. “You know you could just admit you’re not really dating, and I wouldn’t have to lay it on so thick.”

“It would have to be true for me to admit such a thing, which it isn’t.”

“And do you plan to still be dating him at the end of the month?”

“Even if I wasn’t, I already told you: I don’t want this.” She waves her fingers from herself to me. “I can’t trust you, and if I can’t trust you, I can’t be with you.”

I drop my gaze to the watermelon piece I spear with my fork, hearing what she’s not saying.

If I hadn’t fucked things up, then she would not be pretending to date some other guy just to keep me at arm’s length. Because that’s what she’s doing .

Not that she’s admitted it, but it’s like I said.

Brady will hook up with someone else at some point, forgetting or maybe too excited about the prospect to worry about a fake relationship, and then she won’t be able to hide the truth anymore.

I look up, meeting her eyes and hating the hint of sorrow that I’m responsible for that clouds those baby blues. “I know I’ve said it already, Cameron, but I truly am sorry for what I did to you. I hate myself for hurting you. If I could go back…”

Cameron stares at me a long moment. Hesitantly, she reaches across the table, and I take the offer, locking my hands with hers. She squeezes slightly, a small, sad smile on her lips.

“We can’t go back, Alister.”

I nod, my throat growing thick as I ask, “But do you think we can ever go forward?”

She opens her mouth, so for the sake of this conversation, I add, “I mean if you weren’t dating Brady anymore.” Fake dating.

She swallows, eyes dropping to the spot where my thumb is running along her wrist.

“I’m not sure,” she admits quietly.

She may as well have screamed the words into my ear because there wasn’t a no in there. That’s a maybe, and maybe will always make trying worth it.

We’re not done.

I just have to convince her of as much, and I think I have an idea of where to start. I shift closer, holding on a little tighter. “Hey, so?—”

A large figure wraps around her from behind, and I look up to find Brady.

She tears her hand free, quickly dropping it to her lap as her cheeks flame, but he’s already got his face buried in her hair, and if the silent shake of her shoulders a moment later means anything, he’s whispered something to her.

She tips her head back, smiling up at him, and I note the way it reaches even beyond her eyes. There’s a tenderness there I never noticed before, and it has my stomach turning.

They’re just friends , I remind myself, slowly starting to feel like the outsider here when that’s my girl he’s holding on to.

Was your girl.

Damn it .

I clear my throat—loudly—and her head snaps this way as if she forgot I was here.

The tint coloring her cheeks makes me wonder if she did.

“Alister,” Brady drawls, his arms moving from where they are folded around her shoulders to her waist. “Mind if I borrow her?”

“If she were really your girlfriend, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Brady chuckles, and he hauls her up with one swoop. “I got your bag, Cammie Baby. Ari and Paige are waiting outside.”

Cameron nods, looking back at me with a tiny smile and a wave before heading toward the door.

Brady watches her go, same as I do, and only when she’s out the door do we face one another. He bends down, placing his left fist knuckle down on the tabletop. “That little if she were your girlfriend line hurt your case, not the other way around.”

When I frown, he scoffs and stretches to his full height.

“If you knew her like you think you do, like I do , you’d know that was a really fuckin’ stupid thing to say.” He starts to leave, but something has him pausing and his shoulders seem to fall as he looks back toward me. He opens his mouth but closes it a moment later.

Brady shakes his head and walks out, shoving the door a little harder than necessary. And because I’m a masochist, I rise, moving over to the window to watch his next move, to see if he keeps up this boyfriend act when he doesn’t know I’m watching.

To my surprise, he doesn’t rush her and wrap her up.

It’s she who steps up and takes his hand, her other moving animatedly in front of her face as she tells him something that has him grinning her way .

My eyes slide to Cameron’s friends, searching for any hint of scrutiny or, I don’t know, something that tells me this is new or not the norm, but both are smiling and laughing alongside their best friend as if it is.

As if her holding hands with the campus playboy is normal.

As if this little farce is real when it’s not.

She’s just playing a role.

Cameron is not dating Brady Lancaster.

She throws her head back and laughs, and he smiles down at her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to tug her closer.

Is she?