Catching Cameron: A Love and Football Novel (26 page)

BOOK: Catching Cameron: A Love and Football Novel
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She burst out laughing, but her eyes softened. “I want you, too. I missed you and I—” She scooted closer to him on the couch, pulling her legs up beneath her and leaning into his side. “Then let’s go steady.” She reached out to kiss his cheek. “Does this mean we’ll be together on national holidays?”

“Absolutely.”

“So, what does this—a relationship—look like for us?” she asked.

“We’ll hang out. We’ll date. We’ll have fun together. What do you think?”

He saw her lips curve into a wistful smile. “I’m pretty sure I’d like that. So, we’ll hang out together and see what happens?”

His voice was soft. “I’m in it for a lot more than ‘seeing what happens’ between us, Cameron. Are you, too?” He caught her hand in his much bigger one and brought it up to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He had to kiss her again. Truthfully, he never wanted to stop kissing her. Her mouth was so soft against his, and he felt her arms slide around his neck. She even managed to not club him with the sparkling water bottle she still held, which was nice. Mostly, he couldn’t get enough of how she felt, how she tasted and how he wanted to take her right back to bed. If he did, though, they’d never get any of the stuff between them out on the table, and it needed to happen.

“Speaking of hanging out, I would really like it if you would come over to my house and have dinner with my sisters and my grandma after my game this weekend,” he said. “I’ll get a day off, and I’d like to spend it with you.”

“Zach, your sister Whitney can’t stand me.” She tucked her legs beneath her again and took a sip of water. She didn’t meet his eyes.

“That’s not true. My sisters are angry about what happened before. I told them they need to give you a chance, and the only way that’s going to happen is if you all spend some time together.”

She finally looked at him, but the smile slid off of her face.

“I’m not sure having dinner with them is going to work. At all.”

“Just once. Will you have dinner with them once? If it doesn’t work, I’ll accept the blame.”

“Maybe we should let them get used to the idea first,” she said.

He cleared a spot on the table and propped his legs on it. His shin still ached a little. It was nothing compared to how he felt at the look on Cameron’s face. She wasn’t happy. She set her bottle of water on the end table next to her and folded her arms across her chest.

She heaved a sigh. “I don’t understand. Why is this so important to you?”

“I realize it’s rude to answer a question with a question, but when was the last time you spent any time at all with your family? How did that go?”

She tightened both arms around herself and looked at the floor. “I saw them at my sister’s wedding. It was fine.”

“That was several weeks ago. Do you visit often? Do you spend time together, or do you only see them once or twice a year, or whenever your dad decides to fly in somewhere?”

“We’re all pretty busy—”

“Not too busy to spend time with the people who are always in your corner,” he said.

The typical warmth in her brown eyes had faded. She stared at him for a moment, and shook her head, sharply.

“Why is that, Cameron? Do you avoid seeing them?”

She glanced away from him again. She seemed to shrink into herself, too. “Maybe we should talk about something else for a while.”

He felt an icy fist squeezing his gut. She was willing to share her body with him, but she wasn’t letting him inside her head. Most guys might be relieved to have a woman who wouldn’t talk, talk, talk about the things she thought about. Not him. They’d spent three days together ten years ago, but the best part of Cameron’s enforced presence in his world the last couple of weeks was the fact he was getting to know her. He’d like to know more.

Their lives were as different as they could possibly be, and it was more than financial worth. He had money, too, but his resources were nowhere near her family’s. She didn’t think about how much things cost, because she never had to. The money was always there. It wasn’t even a consideration for her. He and his family knew what it was like to wonder where their next meal was coming from or whether they’d have to choose to pay the light bill or the water bill, so it never quite went away.

Even more than the money, Cameron was the poorest rich girl he’d ever met. No matter what happened with his career, there were five people waiting at home who loved him for himself, not because he had elite athletic ability. If he got cut from the Sharks tomorrow, he had sufficient money now to take a job coaching high school football and live a relatively normal life. He also knew his sisters and grandma would be happy with the simple life he could provide. His sisters would find husbands and settle down, but their adult lives would be vastly different from their beginnings.

He couldn’t imagine an evening spent with Cameron’s family. She’d told him before that she grew up with nannies and that she and Paige went to boarding school. Did the Ondine family ever make popcorn and watch TV together? Did they do yard work or have any hobbies in common? Did they have pets? Did they share themselves with each other at all?

“Well, then, how about this: Have you ever lived anywhere else but New York City?” he said.

“Besides living in Connecticut while I was in prep school, not really. We spend the summers at the Hamptons, but that’s a short trip. PSN’s studios are in New York, so moving anywhere else might be a challenge.”

He felt that. Her words stung like a lash. They were done before they even started, and she wasn’t willing to negotiate.

“In other words, if things worked out between us, we’ll have a pretty big geographical problem.”

She thought about that for a few seconds. “Not really. That’s what planes are for.”

“How many days a week would we be able to spend together, then? We both work every weekend six months a year. You’re probably working on pre-production a couple more days a week, too. I’m here at practice, and Tuesday is typically my only day off during the season. Would we meet halfway, then? How do you see this moving forward?”

She got to her feet.

“I’m sure we could work something out.” She went into the bathroom and shut the door. Seconds later, he heard the shower come on.

This was even worse than he’d envisioned. He’d thought the conversation about the problems that they faced would be uncomfortable and might cause an argument. He never imagined she’d refuse to talk with him at all. He wondered if it was worth trying to restart the conversation elsewhere.

He glanced over at the rumpled bed. Their first mistake had been getting out of it. They seemed to communicate just fine when they were both nude. He got to his feet and strode over to the bathroom. She hadn’t locked the bathroom door. He swung it open, dropped his robe on the floor, and reached out for the shower door.

She let out a shriek. “What are you doing?”

“We can’t fight when we’re naked.” He stepped inside the shower stall, pulling the door shut behind him. He picked up the small bottle of organic shampoo. “Let me wash your hair.”

“I can do it.” She wrapped her arms around herself again.

He reached out to stroke her cheek. “I’d like to. Please?”

He saw her mouth curve into a smile, and she nodded. She ducked beneath the spray, turning her back to provide better access. He massaged shampoo through Cameron’s long hair, talking all the while.

“So. We have a geographical problem. We have a family problem on both sides. I want my sisters and grandma to get to know you, and your dad detests me. We work on opposite sides of the country, and neither of us can move. How are we going to resolve some of these things?”

She tipped her head back as he massaged her scalp with gentle fingers. “Maybe we should discuss this later. I’d like to enjoy what you’re doing right now instead.”

“I’d like you to enjoy what I’m doing right now, too, but I want to make this work.” He resisted the impulse to back her up to the shower wall, pick her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist, and plunge into her again.
Later
. They’d already had a lot of sex. They needed to start talking with each other.

“That feels great,” she sighed. The warmth was back in her voice. Of course, parts of him were responding to the wet, naked parts of her.

It was too bad he couldn’t train his dick to obey on command.
Down, boy
.

All this coaxing Cameron to talk about her feelings meant that he’d most likely given up his man card for life, but he knew from living with five women that females fell in love through their ears long before their hearts were involved. He’d learned to listen first. If she knew that he cared about the things she found important and tried to understand why she made the decisions she did, they might be able to find common ground on the bigger things, like how the hell they were going to see each other six months a year.

Maybe he should start small.

He rinsed the shampoo out of her hair with the hand-held shower attachment and picked up a washcloth. He grabbed the small bottle of shower gel. “So, question. Do you want to be a sidelines reporter and have your show for the rest of your career? What’s your ultimate goal?” He was smoothing the washcloth over her, leaving a trail of suds. He saw her shoulders move up and down more rapidly. She turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She backed him up against the shower wall. The hot water cascaded over them, and he pulled her closer.

“Do you want to talk, or do you want to do the wild thing?” she said.

She reached up and bit his lower lip. Of course, he felt the tug in his groin, too. She fit against him like they’d been made for each other. One great advantage to making love in the shower: The clean-up was a lot easier.

“Actually, I had another idea.” He sank to his knees. “It seems I forgot to return the favor earlier, darlin’.”

Twenty minutes or so later, Zach wrapped her in towels and his discarded robe, and half-carried her to the bed. She was pretty boneless after two huge orgasms. He resisted the impulse to pat himself on the back when he looked down at a satisfied, drowsy Cameron, who beamed up at him.

“Where’d you learn that, hot stuff?”

“I may have read it in a book or something,” he teased.

“Remind me to send the author some flowers.”

She rolled over a bit in the bed so he could join her. A discarded condom wrapper stuck to the bottom of his foot. He rubbed the sole of his foot against the other to get rid of it, and pulled the sheet over them as he wrapped his arms around her again.

“That won’t be necessary.”

They’d both had partners before and after each other, but he didn’t want to be reminded of them right now. He pulled them into the cocoon of pillows. Most of the day had passed without venturing out of the suite. They could have spent the time anywhere, but the salt-tinged breeze still wafting through their room relaxed and soothed him. “How about that question I asked you a little while ago? I’m curious.”

She rested her head on his shoulder as her fingertips traced the outline of his six-pack. “About my job?”

“Exactly.”

“I enjoy reporting from the sidelines, but after this latest incident, I’m wondering if that part of my career is over.” She let out a long breath, and he resisted the impulse to punch the air in victory. His efforts to listen and ask questions were earning her trust. “There’s security at NFL stadiums, but I can’t imagine Earphones One and Two wanting to deal with a stadium full of potential threats. I enjoy doing my show, but I have to find interviews. The contacts I made at games came in pretty handy there. It’s either keep doing what I’m doing, or push myself to the next level.” She was silent for a minute or so. “My dream is to be the first female NFL game analyst.”

He couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d hit him with something. He never considered most of them someone to emulate, and Cameron wanted one of their jobs. He knew she’d run rings around those guys. But in order to understand the nuances of the game she’d have to work twice as hard as the guys who’d played it.

“Those guys sit behind a desk for an hour a week during the season and mouth off about stuff they don’t understand,” he blurted out.

“That’s not true. Most of them are former players. There are some that are better-spoken than others, I’ll give you that, but they’re not inexperienced.”

“Why do you want to join them? You’re a journalist, darlin’. Won’t you miss that?”

She rolled onto her side and brushed her lips over his. If he found her ultimate goal shocking, he was even more surprised at the gratefulness he saw in her eyes. “You called me a journalist. That’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me.”

“It’s true.”

“There are lots of people who would argue with that, especially some of the guys I work with. They think women can’t really understand or effectively report on the game because they never played it on a professional level.”

“Then they are dumb shits, and you shouldn’t listen to them. I know you understand the game. I’ve seen your sideline reports.”

He saw the corners of her mouth turn up. “You’re such a sweet talker.” He couldn’t prevent the laugh that rolled out of him, and she looked pleased. She rested against him for a minute or two. “Do you think I’ve lost my mind to go after this?”

“It’s no different than wanting to be drafted in the first round or chosen an All-Pro. It’s work and determination and extra effort. I heard another player say once that the separation is in the preparation. It’s true. If you are better equipped than the guys, they’ll have a hard time overlooking you.”

She propped herself up on one elbow. “So, I told you my ultimate goal. What’s yours?”

“Personally or professionally?”

“Whichever you’d like to tell me. Or both.”

He propped himself up on an elbow, too. Their sweet intimacy struck him anew: He longed for a lover and a friend. A woman he could confide his hopes and dreams to. Someone he could laugh with. He wanted that woman to be Cameron so badly it took his breath away.

He pretend-coughed a little to disguise the wave of emotion he felt.

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