Page 40 of Close Knit

“I’m a person, not a game. There’s no right move.”

She’s got a point. I’ve become so used to walking on eggshells during every interaction I have. There used to be consequences if I said the wrong thing or didn’t act right.Used to be. Guess I haven’t shaken the habit of treating my relationships like they were a play on the pitch.

“The real reason that I’ve been so hot and cold is because you’re a reminder that I let my guard down when I should’ve been focused on football.” There it is, the truth laid bare. “I should be keeping my mind on the most important thing in my life instead of thinking about what happened between us. My head’s scrambled.”

“Football, foosball, or ultimate frisbee, I have no idea why it matters that much. Or why I, someone who hasn’t a clue about sports, am causing you to act like a stereotypical meathead when you were nothing like this when we first met.”

“I had a rough year. How I’ve been toward you—it isn’t me.” I collect my breath. It wasn’t the old Cam at all. “I’m sorry again, Daphne. I want to be better.”

“That’s a much better apology.” She stares at me, eyebrows raised. “But I still want my hundred push-ups.”

No woman I’ve slept with has ever spoken to me the way she does. And some misbehaved part of me wants to prove myself to her. The same part that strived harder, gave more, and paid closer attention when she praised me during our night together.

I want that praise.

I crave her approval.

If a woman like her could see something in me, then maybe I’m not the complete disaster I fear I am.

“Fine,” I grumble, dropping to the worn-out carpet.

“Count them out loud,” she orders. “I’m not the best with numbers, and we wouldn’t want you to lose track and have to start over, would we?”

The corners of my lips curl up.She’s amused by this. The competitor in me is too.

“Yes, ma’am.” I inhale a sharp breath and begin. “One, two, three…” I fall into an easy rhythm. Before I know it, I exhale, “Fifty.” I toss the hair out of my face. “If you wanted to make this a challenge, you’d sit on top of me.”

“I tried that once and got accused of stalking.”

“I deserve that,” I say, counting down the remaining fifty. By the hundredth push-up, my biceps and back scream, and sweat drips from my brow. I stand up, brushing my hands off on my jeans. “So, friends?”

“Trialfriends.” She nods approvingly. “But I’m not having sex with you again.”

That was to be expected, but disappointment still floods my chest. She’ll be the first woman I fucked first and friended later. Probably for the best. Sleeping with friends sounds messy.

“Understood.”

“After what happened between us, I’ve sworn off soccer boys for the rest of my life.”

Relief coats my disappointment. Despite having no right to get possessive over her, I’m not exactly thrilled by the idea of my new…friend fooling around with my teammates.

“Smart girl.” Silence lingers between us. How do I stop this conversation from falling apart? The first time we spoke, it felt effortless.Think, Cameron. Think.A memory flashes to mind. “How’s your Yes Year going?”

Her eyes light up. “You remember that?”

“Hard to forget.”Hard to forget anything about you.

“It’s actually going really well. To think that on my birthday I committed to a completely new lifestyle, and then two days later, we met. Life is so strange.”

“We hooked up two days after your birthday?” June twenty-ninth. Why hadn’t she mentioned it?

“Yes, and because of my Yes Year, I’m living across the world and planning a knitting retreat.”

I vaguely remember a mention of a retreat in theStone Timesarticle. “Do you normally do events like that?”

She shrugs. “No. Usually, I create knitting patterns and share them with my followers. I do livestreams on Thursdays and Saturdays and a bunch of other knitting things.”Well, that explains who she’s always talking to behind the shared bedroom wall of our apartments.

“And you get famous off of that?” I awkwardly kick my feet around.

---