Page 92 of Playmaker

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Okay?” His brows furrow, perplexed. “That’s all you have to say?”

“What would you like me to say? We agreed to take things slow. I knew what to expect, so I have no reason to be hurt. I would never try to take you away from your dreams, Cameron, and if your dad is saying to break things off, I understand.”

Because at the end of the day, I love him, and I want him to be happy. If he didn’t have football, he’d lose his passion, and as much as I want to be mad at him, I can’t be. I’m studying to become a doctor for the same reason he’s striving to play football professionally—an attempt to cling to a bond that’s already been severed.

“You have every reason to be hurt,” he starts. “Mads, I took your vir—”

“Please,”I beg. “I don’t need a reminder of what happened, okay? I’m aware of what transpired between us, and no, I don’t regret it. You told me this could be a possibility.”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry. Despite what you’re probably thinking, I never wanted to hurt you, and the last thing I want to fucking do is walk away from you.”

The breeze whips between us, sending a shiver down my spine.

“You deserve someone who chooses you over everything else,” he says, “and although I want to, I don’t know how to be that person yet. My dad is depending on me because it’shisdream, too, and I can’t let him down.”

A bitter laugh comes out. “Cameron, maybe you’re right. Maybe I do deserve better, but again, I knew what I was signing up for when we started this. I knew about your baggage, I knew about the red flags, I knew about it all, and I still chose you. You needed time, and I was willing to give it to you because to me, we’re worth it.”

“Weareworth it, Mads. You think I don’t know that? But I’m stuck here. Football is something I can’t give up, and I’m not going to ask you to wait until I’m drafted. It’s not fair to you. I’m not worth your time.”

With a heavy sigh I look up into the sky and blink a few times, trying to find the compassion I need in order to word this correctly. “I wish you knew how special you are,” I find myself saying. “If you could look in the mirror and see half of what I see, there wouldn’t be any insecurities.”

“Mads.”My name is a plea on his lips, but I can’t stop now that I’ve started.

“You’re the type of guy everyone is lucky to have in their life. You’re loyal, devoted, and selfless, even if you think you aren’t. It’s the reason you’re breaking up with me now. You want to keep the dream alive for your dad because you’re afraid that if you don’t he’ll break after keeping himself together for so long after your mother passed. I just . . . I wish sometimes youwouldbe selfish, because if you’re constantly trying to please everyone else, you’re going to run yourself ragged, and then you’ll end up getting burned-out.”

He wipes his cheeks with his sleeve to gather the tears. “Trust me, I’m already burned-out. It happened a long time ago.”

“Then chooseyou.” As I reach up to wipe his tears myself, he leans into my touch, and damn if it doesn’t crumble the tough exterior I’m trying to keep up. “If that includes me, great, and if doesn’t, I’ll learn to accept that. This isyourlife, Cameron. The only person stopping you from easing all this pressure you carry is yourself.”

“Will you hate me?” he blurts. “If I choose to carry out my mom’s dream, will things go back to the way they’ve been? Silence and ignoring each other like the other doesn’t exist?” I smile softly when he bends down to rest his forehead against mine. “I can’t live like that again, Maddie, but if it’s what you need, then—”

“Give me time,” I say. “I don’t want things to be like that again, either, but—” But how am I supposed to forget the past two weeks? No matter how fleeting, the moments were real. Talking about the future, stolen moments of intimacy, losing my virginity, laughing our heads off together at the lake. I don’t know how I could ever FaceTime him or see him in person again without feeling the urge to touch him like this. Hold him like this.

And the realization that this is probably the last time we’ll ever get to do this washes over me like a tsunami.

As if the same thoughts are dawning on him, his lips crash against mine like a desperate, urgent necessity. Our tears meld together, a never-ending saltwater ocean of our own as my hands drag through his hair to pull him closer. His hands find my hips, pulling me closer against him to make the kiss deeper, but my tears are flowing freely now, and a sob working its way up my throat forces him to pull back.

I was supposed to be strong.

I knew this could happen, but I let it destroy me regardless.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I gasp, but it’s not. We both know it isn’t. “I’m going to go back inside.”

This relationship was doomed from the start, but we gave it a shot. We tried, and we failed. No harm, no foul, right? I should be grateful I’ve experienced something so special, and it kills me to say goodbye, and although it’s not goodbye forever, it’s walking away from everything I’ve ever wanted.

“Don’t leave like this, Mads. We can . . . fuck, I don’t know. We can talk this through. Figure out a way to make this easier on both of us.”

Nothing will ever make it easier.

The damage has been done, and although I promised myself I’d keep my guard up, I failed, and now I’m left to pick up the pieces of my heart.

“You said you’d give me what I need. Being alone right now is what I need.”

His chest heaves with a shaky exhale, but with a jerk of his chin, he releases me from his hold, his fingers flexing as if he regrets the decision to do so immediately. “Can I call you tonight?”

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