Page 72 of Beautifully Devoted

It’s exactly the ice breaker I need, and I fight back a smile as I answer.

“Who knew my dad could end up being worse than Liam’s?” I wonder aloud, thinking about how our roommate’s decision to stay at Front Range University with Cruz instead of going to the school his dad preferred left him penniless. “I never thought I’d have a reason to say it, but I’d prefer being cut off to being blackmailed.”

“Yeah, that’s an oddly better scenario,” Cam agrees, though he too looks like he can’t believe it has to be said.

It’s quiet for another few blocks before he says, “You did good back there. I know it must’ve been hard to see him and hear him say all that shit, but you didn’t let him get to you.”

“He almost did,” I admit. Though I end up speaking to the hem of my shirt, incapable of looking at Cam, just in case it turns out he’s only trying to make me feel better. I’ll know it if I see his face, so I don’t look.

“Yeah, he’s good at manipulating people. But you’re better at blocking him out than he is at getting under your skin. I mean it,” Cam adds, like he knows I need to hear that.

My lip pulls up in an almost smile. “Thanks.”

“You think he’ll post that video?” Cam asks after a beat.

“I honestly don’t care if he does. I’d do it myself if I had a copy.”

“Think you should warn your sponsors it might come out?” There’s a hesitance to his question I don’t like, so I reach for his arm and guide his hand off the wheel and into mine.

“My love life is my business. It doesn’t have anything to do with them, and I shouldn’t have to give anyone a heads up that there’s a video of me kissing a guy when I wouldn’t do that if it was a girl.”

“Yeah, but we still don’t know if your dad is right about the drafting queer players thing. I don’t want your options to be limited because of me.”

I squeeze his hand in mine. “I want to get to the NFL. That hasn’t changed, but the past few weeks have taught me that where I end up is just as important as who I’m with. Maybe even less so. The rest is just…a bonus, I guess.”

“Making the NFL is a bonus?”

A few weeks ago, I would’ve thought going pro was all that mattered. Particularly since I was convinced Cam would be with me for that. As a platonic life partner. But now… Now that I’ve learned that we have chemistry and—I think—a more intimate connection than what I realized…then yeah. The NFL is the bonus.

“It’s still my dream, but how shitty would it be to achieve that dream if you aren’t there with me?”

“How shitty would it be if I’m the one that keeps you from living the dream?” Cam retorts.

I really feel like he’s overreacting, but since he’s been playing the role of my protector for over a decade, I get that he’s worried about doing me more harm than good.

“Trust my process, Cama…Cam.” I doubt that’ll reassure him since it’s not a solid plan, but it tends to work for me more often than not.

“You don’t have a process, Kitcat.” He rolls his eyes at me, but instead of looking frustrated he seems sort of amused.

“Trust me then.”

His eyes lock onto mine with unwavering certainty. “I do.”

Cameron

Outwardly, I think I seem pretty calm, but inside I’m freaking out.

Was it only yesterday I called my dad for advice about Jagger’s sperm donor? That seems like forever ago. I thought I’d have more time to prepare before he made his presence known. Time to give Jagger a heads up so he wasn’t blindsided.

At least he’s not losing it over our surprise encounter this morning. Not that I can tell, anyway.

His hand is stable in mine as we drive home. It’s not even sweaty. And while he’s not smiling, he’s not scowling, either. Still, I’m not sure if that’s a brave face he’s putting on or if he’s really okay.

Considering he’s spent the anniversary of his dad’s disappearance in my bed for ten years, I’m inclined to think he’s putting on an act. Then again, maybe he’s got the closure he never had before, and now that he knows the kind of person his dad is he’s ready to move on.

If that’s the case, I couldn’t have dreamed of a better outcome. But I’m not naïve enough to believe that Jeremy will leave Jagger alone just because my bes—my boyfriend—isn’t interested in helping him.

I give Jagger’s hand a squeeze to brace him for what I’m about to say.

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