Page 25 of SALT

He tosses his duffle bag in the trunk. "Text me a list. I believe you owe me one anyway. I'll have Camila pick up whatever you need this afternoon…" He pauses before opening his door and our eyes lock. "As for the rest, let me make myself clear. I said you'd be riding with me for the foreseeable future. That means where you go, I go. Are we clear?"

And there it is. There's the denigration I was expecting.

"Crystal." I smile sweetly. "Freedom is overrated."

"Iam so fucking sorry, Cam," Parker says, standing at the cashier counter in the team shop with a counter full of my favorite foods.

I slowly walk over to the counter. After everything that happened once Everett showed up at Connor's last Friday, I hadn't put much more thought into Parker letting me down. Now that he's here and the danger is behind me, I can't help but be a little agitated.

"What happened? Why didn't you answer your phone, but you answered Elijah's?"

He drops his head. "It's a long story, and I'm already going to have to run extra laps for being here instead of out there on the field."

"You didn't even text or call."

His eyes rise to meet mine. "Because I knew you were with him."

"How did you know Everett was on his way that night?" I ask as I set my coffee down and take inventory of all the snacks he picked up, including a slice of carrot cake from my favorite bakery on the other side of town.

He rounds the counter and nods toward the food. "Save me some snacks, and I'll stop by after practice. We can talk then."

He turns to leave, but before he makes it out the door, I say, "I would have answered Park." He gives me a half smile, one that doesn't meet his big blue eyes, before he exits, and it wounds me. I hate that he believes our friendship doesn't mean something to me if I have Everett. We got close. I know he has feelings for me. I have feelings for him too; they're just not romantic ones. I know the same is true for him, but I think whatever is going on between him and Everett is affecting everything in his orbit, and that includes me.

I'm just flipping open the box of donuts to see the selection he picked out, which should include white frosted long johns and cinnamon fritters, when the door opens again.

"You think I was going to eat all the donuts before practice was over?"

"Um, no…" a female voice trails off as I turn around, licking my fingers clean of the powdered sugar from the decadent morsel that will now have to wait.

"Hi, can I help you?" I ask the pretty blonde with a long braid pulled over her shoulder wearing a pair of overalls and converse.

"Are you Cameron?" she shoves her hands into her pockets as she walks further into the store, taking a slow look at all of the inventory.

"I am."

"Everett sent me down here to train with you."

Interesting. We just spent thirty minutes in the car together, and he didn't mention this girl at all. Two people working the team shop makes sense. If I have to call off or I get sick, she can fill in, but I can't help but be a little sour about it. One, this place feels like my baby, and two, he didn't freaking tell me. Why didn't he bring it up? It's not hard. "Oh hey, by the way, I have a new girl training with you today. Her name is…"

"What's your name?"

"Stormy," her eyes slowly drag down my body, unimpressed with what she sees. "I'm not expected to dress like you for this position, am I?"

I ignore her tone and the obvious distaste in her expression. We don't have the same style. It's only offensive if I let it be.

"No, there are staff shirts that can be worn with jeans, black leggings, or an athletic skirt."

She purses her lips and nods, her eyes casually flitting over my mountain of snacks before she starts running her hands along the racks of clothes, making me anxious.

"Would you like a donut?"

She joins me at the counter. "I'm glad you offered because stealing one behind your back might have been awkward."

I laugh and take the one I already pawed at before pushing the box toward her. "Have at it. There's more here than I could ever eat."

Stormy takes a big bite out of her long john before talking around her food and asking. "So, which one of those dumb jocks out there has his strap twisted up for you?"

I practically snort fritter out my nose. "None of them. I'm friends with the catcher and these snacks are a peace offering for a friend fail." I hop up on the counter. "Are you new in town?"

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