Page 24

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Cameron

“Honestly, Payton going back to the beach house with Deaton this weekend worked out.”

I skip down the cement stadium steps, bypassing our seats and moving all the way to the first row, something you can only manage to do when you show up the second the gates open, or the staff will play hard-ass and not let you pass.

I’m aware they’re only doing their jobs, but it still sucks when your friends are the ones on the field.

Though I guess hundreds could likely claim the same, seeing as this is college and all.

I spin around, smirking at Ari. “Do you feel like a traitor wearing someone else’s number?”

“My twin’s number?” She raises a brow. “No.”

I raise one right back and she chuckles.

“Okay, somehow it does feel a little strange,” she admits. “I haven’t worn anyone’s number but Noah’s for a year now.” Ari looks beside her, only to frown and turn completely. “Why are you hiding behind me?”

Paige shrugs, smashing her lips to the side.

I reach out and tug her down the last stair to stand beside us. “Stop stressing,” I tell her.

“I don’t know.” She glances down anxiously. “This just feels… He’s going to be mad.”

“Doubtful.”

“We’re not… I’m not like that with him. We don’t even talk. ”

“You and the dozens of other fans that will be here today.”

She scowls, and it’s such an innocent look on her, I can’t help but give the girl a giddy hug.

We watch as the final prep is done across the field, the guys likely having already been out here today for the first round of warm-ups. We pretend the seats in the first row are ours, not moving as others start to file in around us.

Across the stadium, red and gold start to fill in the space, and I peek behind me to make sure our side is coloring up just as fast.

As always, it’s raining blue and yellow, as it should.

Some people shout from the upper deck, and I face the field just in time to watch the team jog out.

We hop to our feet, shouting and clapping as they all fall into formation at the forty.

As in sync as always, they form parallel lines, moving right into stretches before breaking up into groups for pregame drills.

A quick glance at my phone a bit later tells me it’s twenty minutes to kickoff, and right on time, the boys file to the sidelines, ditching their helmets to fuel up on water and electrolytes.

It’s Mason who spots us first, his grin spreading as he jogs over.

“How the hell did you score these seats?” He scopes the area.

“Shhh,” I scold, and he laughs, looking back and catching Brady’s attention.

Brady frowns at him, but then his eyes move left.

He spots Ari first, then Paige, and finally, his eyes land on me.

His cup freezes halfway to his lips, his smile slow. Then he’s tossing the paper product, water flying all over as he lets out a loud whoop that gains us the attention of everyone around.

I beam brightly, putting my hands on my hips, and give several poses.

“And here comes the boyfriend,” Mason teases, throwing me a smile.

Brady doesn’t simply lean against the edge. No, he hops up, kicks one leg over, and sits his ass there. His eyes move from my top to my cheek and back. He opens his mouth, but I spin, doing a little shimmy, and then before I know what he’s doing, he’s yanking me over the edge.

I yelp, legs flying in the air as I feel like I’m about to fall backward for a split second before my boots hit the ground.

“Brady, what the hell!” I laugh, but then I’m in his arms again, this time bridal style, which is kind of awkward with his already-massive body and the pads bulking his shoulders out even more. “You’re going to get me in trouble!”

“Nah. Coach loves me. Besides, this is too good. My name is on your ass, Cam. This has to be documented.”

I raise a brow. “Documented?”

“Oh yeah.” He starts jogging down the sideline, and I grip him harder, my ponytail flying around and whipping me in the face when he spins suddenly and takes off the other way, flying past his team, who yell and root him on. “You ready for this, Cammie Girl?”

“Ready for what exactly?”

He stops and sets me on my feet, twirling me around and then yanking me to his chest. He grins wildly. “For this.”

And then he kisses me, hard and greedy and not at all PG, his tongue sweeping in instantly, teasing and tasting mine one second, then he’s yanking back in the next. He’s full-on cheesing now, his laughter mixing with my own.

“Did you mess up my face paint? ’Cause I’ll have you know writing backward in the mirror is not easy.”

He leans away, gaze traveling the shape of his number on my cheek, then the little shark on the other side. “Nope. Still perfect. Shirt too.” He smiles down at my outfit. “So. If I weren’t wearing these pads right now, would I feel a little metal poking through?”

I laugh, teasing, “Brady Lancaster, are you asking if you made my nipples hard?”

“What? No! I meant… Wait.” He grins slowly. “Did I?”

I chuckle, shaking my head, and answer the question he was really asking. “It’s called a padded bra. A must when you have what I do hiding underneath.”

“And how long exactly have you had to wear said padded bra?”

“Nice try, Big Guy”

“Worth a shot. Imma get it out of you, you know,” Brady swears, his attention shifting over my head. “Here we go, girl.”

Before I can ask what that means, his name is shouted gleefully from my left, and I turn to look that way.

“Brady! Can you give us a minute? Tell us who the lucky lady is!” A microphone is shoved between us as a gorgeous, dark-haired woman steps up. “And she’s wearing your number!”

“My number, my name.” He throws me a quick wink. “My heart on her sleeve.”

I fight a laugh, and he squeezes my side, his lips pinched tight to hold in his own.

“I know we’ve all heard the rumors there was a love story kicking off, but can we take this as a sign that our favorite party guy has settled down?”

Brady smirks, takes my hand, and looks into the camera rather than at the reporter. “Wish I could say sorry, ladies, but I’m not.”

Before the woman can say anything else, he’s tearing down the field again, my hand locked tight in his own and forcing me to jog with him.

We’re both laughing as we get back to the others, and Mason bends down, offering me his knee. I climb up, and Brady pushes my ass until I can officially leap over.

Chase jogs up behind them, clapping Brady on the shoulder with a grin. “That was smooth, man. Hopefully they got the message and no one tries to pay off the staff to get a copy of the key to your room like at our last away game.”

“No!” I gape. “They do that?”

Brady scoffs. “You have no idea.”

“Bitches. ”

“Jealous?” he teases, and I give him a hard eye roll.

Chase grins, glancing over the group, and I see the moment he notices my little Paige’s surprise.

His eyes snap back to the other blond, holding for several solid seconds.

His lips twitch slightly, and I give myself a mental high five, but then he quickly turns away, so we never get to see it fully take shape.

I share a look with Brady, and he wiggles his brows knowingly.

“Come on. Coach is about to flip out if we don’t get settled.” Mason tugs Brady away by the sleeve, and I look back to Paige, Chase’s number printed across her T-shirt.

Her cheeks are pink, and she suddenly starts messing with her shoelaces, but there’s a small smile on her lips. Ari and I face the field, clapping and cheering as everyone gets ready for kickoff, but just before the team takes the field, the players shift around, and I see him.

Standing there in the middle, holding on to the collar of his pads as he stares right at me, an expression I can’t quite read blanketing his face, is Alister.

I offer a smile and a wave, but his eyes fall to the turf, and then he turns around.

My smile falls instantly.

His dismissal shouldn’t sting. I have no right to feel hurt after all that I’m doing to try and let him go, especially after the little show Brady and I just put on. Though to be fair, I didn’t even think about Alister being here to witness it as it was happening.

So why is there a little ache in the center of my chest?

I’m the one who asked for this.

I wanted to let him go and asked for Brady’s help to make it happen. Well, after he successfully sparked the idea, but still. I’m the reason we’re doing this fake-dating thing. By the looks of it, it’s working.

Alister is starting to believe our time has passed.

That thought shouldn’t send unease skittering through my veins.

So why does it ?

Chase and Hector, another AU football player, are getting down on some video game.

Ari and Paige both sit in the recliner on the other side of the room, searching the internet for costume ideas for the Halloween party coming up.

Mason and Brady are in the little kitchen area with a few of their other friends, laughing and talking about tonight’s game while finishing off the last of the frozen pizzas we made about two hours ago.

Thankfully, the team took the after-party down the block to one of the fraternity houses.

It worked out since we were already planning for a quieter night in.

The boys all have to fit in a study group tomorrow because their schedules will be different next week due to an away game.

It’s not an overnighter, but they won’t get in until around three in the morning.

I don’t realize I’ve zoned out until Brady drops beside me on the carpet, spinning a football around in his hands.

We look at each other, and he tips his head slightly. “You okay?”

I nod, and Brady frowns instantly.

“Cam. Don’t lie to me.” He tucks the ball under an arm. “Was tonight too much?”

“You mean was your helping me sell the story of us the way I asked you to too much?”

His response is instant: “Yes.”

I shake my head but leave it resting against the wall, a small tip to my lips. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Brady.”

“You say that, but something’s wrong, and I know this sad face you’ve been wearing the last few hours isn’t ’cause we had no pineapple for those cardboard-tasting pizzas.”

A small laugh manages to escape, and he grins, though it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Cammie Baby, I’m sorry. The girls, or fans”—he rolls his eyes—“or whatever you want to call them, have been hounding my ass a lot more this year. It’s kind of a lot to deal with,” he mutters, almost as if there’s a little more to it than what he’s saying.

“When I spotted you all decked out in my name tonight, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to try to tame the packs, since we were already putting on a show on campus. I had a good time, and you were smiling, and shit, I don’t know. I’m sorry,” he says again.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. We were having fun, and you have as much right to use this arrangement to your benefit as I do. I want you to.”

He scowls, shaking his head. “Not at the expense of hurting you.”

I drop my eyes, sliding my fingers over the smudges on the screen of my phone before looking back to him with a shamed smile. “You didn’t hurt me, Brady.”

He stares, gauging me a long moment. As I knew he would, my perceptive friend figures out what I couldn’t bring myself to say. He nods his understanding, his voice a little lower than normal when he says, “He didn’t mean to hurt you either.”

Embarrassment warms my cheek. “I know,” I concede. “At least not in this instance, right?”

“Maybe not in either,” Brady adds, almost hesitantly. “Not that that takes away from the fact that he did.”

“Yeah. I think maybe you’re right, but…” I break off with a sigh, propping my head on the wall once more.

He takes my hand, drawing it up to kiss my knuckles, and my eyes shift his way, my lips tipping up slightly.

“Should we call this off?” he mumbles. “You can slap me and call me names for everyone to see. I kinda always wanted to see how one of those public breakups felt anyway. The chick flicks you guys used to make us watch always made them seem so interesting.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, and he grins, but it falls pretty quickly .

“For real, Cameron. Do we need to end this? I don’t want to hurt anyone. Especially you.”

Warmth washes over me, but it’s not enough to thaw the tension my muscles have held since Alister gave me his back at the game.

God, I’m so messed up. I hate that you can’t just turn off feelings. Life would be so much easier if you could.

“I don’t want to hurt him either,” I tell him.

“That’s not why I wanted us to pretend.” Slowly, I meet his gaze and decide to be honest. “I don’t think I can let go of what he did to even be able to try to be with him, Brady.

I’ve attempted it. I’ve found myself enjoying his attention here and there since, but then suddenly it all comes back, and I can’t get away from him fast enough.

Like in the back of my mind, I know we can’t get over the past, but then shit like this happens, and suddenly I’m confused again.

It’s like a part of me isn’t convinced I don’t want him, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I was hoping he would accept this for what it was and distance himself, but he did the opposite. ”

“Until tonight.”

“Until tonight,” I parrot with a sigh, feeling dumb for being all torn up about this. “This is what I wanted, but I guess I didn’t anticipate the feelings that would come with it all, you know?”

“Yeah,” Brady whispers. “I know.”

When I look over at him, I find he’s staring at his lap. After a moment, he looks up, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“So we’re still doing this or…” He trails off.

I take his hand once more, entwining our fingers. “I’m all yours.”

He scoffs lightly, nodding his head. “From now on, I’ll let you lead this whole relationship thing.”

“Nah.”

“No?” He raises a brow, pinning me with a skeptical expression .

“I mean”—I shrug a shoulder, a true grin beginning to form—“where’s the fun in that?”

Brady chuckles, bumping his shoulder into mine. “Where indeed?”