Page 13 of Lock 'em Down

“Exactly.”

“But most guys would have felt the need to show off. Especially in front of a woman,” she continues. And she’s right, most guys would.

But… “I’m not most guys.”

“I’m picking up on that,” she admits. “You’re laid-back…” Cami reminds me of my original line of thought.

“I am.” I glance down at her. “But what if I don’t want to be? Or what if I’m only seen that way because nothing—no one—has ever mattered enough to lose it over?”

Cami slows her pace and touches my wrist gently. Encouragingly.

“I nearly got expelled from college and cost a professor her job,” I admit. Her eyes lighten, curious. I sigh. “We were hooking up on the down-low. It was casual. Fun, I guess, because it was forbidden. But when it came time to deal with the consequences, she was gutted, and I was…apathetic. If I got expelled, I got expelled.” My jaw tightens as I admit it. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“Because I asked,” Cami says simply, without a shred of judgment. Instead, she’s looking at me with compassion—with understanding—I don’t deserve.

I take her hand and squeeze her fingers. “I want something real enough—something that matters with someone I care about—so I can be more than just Laid-back Leif.”

Cami nods slowly. “I get that. Sometimes, the labels we had in the past follow us into the present.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Exactly.”

Cami sighs. “I was seen as impulsive and even a little reckless in high school. That followed me into college, and I was okay with it. In fact, I liked how others viewed my spontaneity. But my parents hated it. They worried—for good reason—and even though I’ve reined it in, and I’m not nearly as wild as I once was, my mom still views me as her carefree daughter who needs looking after.”

I smirk, swinging our joined hands between us as we walk down the street. This, right here with her, feels natural. Honest in a way I crave. “So, you’re moving to Tennessee to be an accountant?”

“Yeah.” She wrinkles her nose. “But let’s not talk about boring work.”

“Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

Her eyes dance as she gazes up at me. “If you want to change the way people see you, what do you want them to see instead of your laid-back nickname?”

“Ooh, tough question, Cam.”

She shimmies her shoulders, proud of herself.

“I guess a guy who is committed. Dedicated. Determined.” My dad pops into my mind and I chuckle. “To be honest, I’m partly describing my father and even though I don’t want to be as serious as he is, I look up to him. I want to be that stand-up guy that people know they can rely on. I want to have kids who trust me the same way I trust him.”

“You want to be a dad?” Her voice is soft.

“Hell yeah,” I laugh. “I want a ton of kids. I want to teach them how to surf. How to skate and swim. How to read. I want to go on epic trips and see a slice of the world through their eyes.” I grin at her. “I love being around kids.”

“I do, too,” she admits. “But most men I know don’t talk about fatherhood.”

Again, “I’m not most?—”

“Guys,” she supplies. “You’re not.” She bites her bottom lip and looks up at me, studying my expression. “You’re a million times better,” she breathes out, but her gaze is serious.

“I like the way you see me. Right now,” I admit, not caring how dumb I sound. Cami is looking at me like I could be more than a guy she hooks up with in Vegas. Her expression is wide open—stamped with the same vulnerability that I’m openly sharing. And I don’t want to lose that. This moment with her, it snaps things into place like a puzzle. I can see the big picture and the pieces I’ve been missing. Right now, it’s as though she could help fill those holes.

“I like the guy you are, Leif. And I like the man you want to become. I get what you’re saying. You want something with stakes,” she explains.

“Yeah,” I snort, relieved that she gets it. “I want stakes.”

Cami nods slowly. Her eyes catch on something, and she grins. “How badly?”

“What?” I laugh.

“How badly do you want stakes? We could do something wild.”

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