Page 13 of Cougar

I’ve known Cameron “Cam” Parker since the day he was born. Elizabeth threw a fit because she wanted a little sister. A few months later, my little brother, Liam, was born. I didn’t care that Liam was a boy because he was the cutest baby I’d ever seen. The boys were only six when I left Heritage Bay, but because our mothers are still best friends and he’s Liam’s best friend, Cam has been a constant in my life. And up until last month, he was living next door with Liam. The two have been inseparable their entire lives, their connection so solid that they even played for the same baseball team.

Cam was the star pitcher for our home team, the LA Heat, up until last season when he became a free agent and signed with the Tampa Bay Thunder and moved back to Heritage Bay. Liam wasn’t too happy that his best friend had ditched him and their team; however, I’ll bet every dollar I have that when Liam becomes a free agent, he’ll find a way back to his friend.

Cam moves to stand beside me and we both stare off in the distance as the moonlight replaces the sun, the ocean sparkling like a sea of diamonds.

“Marcus took care of everything. No stone left unturned. No loose end left untied.”

“I know,” he admits. “I saw the house. We’re gonna be neighbors again.” I turn to look at him and he smirks.

“My parents are supposed to take Jay home to Heritage Bay tomorrow,” I tell him. “But I don’t think she’ll want to go.”

“Why don’t you just ask her?”

“Because I don’t want her to go. I don’t think Marcus realized how hard packing up and leaving would be for us. Especially for Jay. All those hours spent in grief counseling went right out the window the moment he took his last breath. He thought he had everything under control, but you can’t control the unexpected. You can’t control someone’s reactions or feelings.” I throw my hands up. “I know everyone wants what’s best for Jay and me, but what about what we want? What about what I want?”

“Whatdoyou want, Em?”

“To breathe.” I shove my hands into my hair and inhale deeply through my nose. “For the past two years, I’ve felt like I’m being suffocated. I feel like I’m drowning.” I turn to Cam, dropping my hands to my sides. “I can’t breathe. This grief… this pain”—I rub at the ache in my chest—“it feels like there’s a weight tied to my ankles, keeping me just below the surface, and the more I struggle, the further I sink.” Tears pool in my eyes. “I just want to breathe,” I whisper. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

Cam turns and wraps his arms around me, pulling my head to his chest and dropping a kiss to the top of my hair. “Breathe, Em.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and inhale his scent, a mixture of soap, clean laundry, and familiarity.

My favorite place had always been wrapped in Marcus’s arms, my head resting on his chest as I breathed in the smell of his body wash mixed with his masculine scent. The rise and fall of his chest combined with the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat would lull me into a peaceful sleep.

Cam sighs. “I know you’re probably sick of hearing this, but I really am sorry. I miss him, too.”

A fresh wave of tears slides down my cheeks as I pull from Cam’s hold, taking his hands in mine and lifting my gaze to meet his. “Thank you, Cam,” I say softly.

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead before pulling away to look back down at me. A small smile pulls up on one side of his mouth as something meaningful passes between us. It’s not romantic or sexual; it’s comforting, familiar.

Releasing his hands, I take a step back, and before the salty air between us can turn awkward, a throat clears. We both turn to see Bass standing a few feet away, his hands shoved in his pockets, watching us skeptically.

How long has he been standing there?

“You okay?” he asks. There’s a hint of curiosity in his tone.

“Yeah,” I say, flicking my gaze back to Cam. “I just needed a minute to breathe.”

Emerson

“What was that back there?” Bass asks, curling his big muscular arm around my shoulders as we make our way back up to the house.

I know what it must’ve looked like to an outsider, but it was Cam. I bump my hip against Bass’s thigh. “That was me venting and Cam being a friend.”

Bass nods once, tugging me to closer to his side. “Okay.”

Bass is my best friend and confidant, whom I met my sophomore year of college. He was on crutches recovering from a football injury that had pretty much ruined his chances of ever playing again. He was angry, bitter, and mostly hurt that his teammates had turned their backs on him. Maybe it was the hurt and betrayal from the people we thought were our friends that drew us together. We were an odd pair, but like attracts like. He’s been the best friend I’ve ever had, and one of the few people Marcus trusted wholeheartedly with his family. And then he became part of our family when Marcus hired him as our personal security guard. He lives in our home and he goes wherever we go. Wherever Jayla goes.

“I’m scared, B,” I admit. “I’m a widow. And Jayla….” I suck in a shaky breath.

“I know,” he breathes, tightening his arm around me.

As we reach the back of my house, Bass turns to me. “Emerson”—he never calls me Emerson. It’s either Em or woman, when he’s irritated or trying to be funny—“you know I’m not going anywhere, right? I’m here for you and for however long my princess needs me.”

From the moment Jayla came into this world, she’s always been his princess. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him call her by her real name.

Sometimes I feel guilty for being so selfish with his friendship and loyalty. I’ve made half-ass attempts at encouraging him to have a life of his own, to find a woman to love and start a family with, but in this business, in Bass’s line of work, it’s not easy to meet a woman who isn’t connected to the music business, whether she’s an assistant or a groupie. Either way, maintaining a relationship is hard. I know firsthand. And truthfully, had he taken my advice, I would’ve been lost without him.

---