Page 71 of Camden

When Camden’s eyes slide back up, they lock on me as his mouth curves into a lecherous smile. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you look hotter. After we eat, I’m taking those bunny slippers off and I’m going to wreck you hard.”

I reach up and rest my hand on the doorframe, putting the other on my hip. My voice is raspy, seductive. “Special just for you. And I thought we agreed, I’ll do the wrecking.”

Camden bursts out laughing and steps into me. Wrapping a hand around my back, he hauls me in for a hard kiss before leaving his lips against mine to whisper, “Seriously. You’re beautiful and you can wreck me anytime you want.”

“You’re sweet. And I’ll wreck you as often as you like.”

Then my hand is in his and he’s leading me to my kitchen as I shuffle along behind him so as not to lose a slipper. He sets a grease-stained white paper bag on the table and the smell of cheese steaks wafts from it. Shrugging out of his coat, he tosses it on a chair and moves to my fridge to pull out two bottles of water.

I grab plates, napkins and forks so we can catch any good stuff that falls out. Settling down into adjacent chairs, our legs press against each other. We huddle over sandwiches and fill each other in on our lives from the past few days since we had burgers with Travis.

The Titans had another home game yesterday that Travis and I watched on TV. Camden invited us again as his guests, but I declined since it was a school night. I tell him about the fundraising events I’ve been putting together and I run more ideas by him, using him as a sounding board before I present them to Brienne. We discuss college and I explain about the 529 plan I set up today so I can start putting money in each month for tuition. That wasn’t something Mitch and I had done. Hell, we didn’t even know about it because in our minds, the money would always come in, and we figured we’d have enough to send Travis anywhere he wanted to go. It was stupid and shortsighted, but now that I have a job, I can afford to set some aside each month.

We talk about Travis and the fact that he hasn’t mentioned his conversation with Camden about liking me.

In a kissing way!

I decided not to bring it up because I’m still unsure of what we have going on. The only thing Travis knows is that Camden likes me and apparently, he’s okay with that. He doesn’t know the intricacies of dating someone for the first time since Mitch’s death or the social implications of Camden and Mitch being teammates. That’s all more than his nine-year-old mind can process right now, nor should he have to reconcile that at his age. Until Camden and I find sure footing, I’ll wait to see if Travis mentions it.

“You excited about the road trip coming up?” I ask.

He nods as he finishes a bite of his sandwich. When he swallows, he says, “Yeah. We’re on fire right now and we want to test that momentum out in opponents’ arenas. That’s where playoff championships are won or lost… in how well you play on the road and without your fan base behind you.”

“The team has really stepped it up this year. It’s phenomenal when you consider how the team was patched together.”

“I think that’s all Coach West.” The respect is evident in his tone. “We’ve got the same talent we had last year, but he knows how to inspire.”

“He’s become a solid support to me over the last several months.”

“I’m not surprised,” Camden says, bumping his knee affectionately against mine.

Cannon’s loss of his wife to cancer several years ago makes him uniquely experienced in how healing happens over the long haul. He’s so easy to talk to, and you can tell that’s because he’s genuinely interested in helping others.

I find Camden to be that way too.

My doorbell rings as I’m bringing my cheese steak up for another bite, so I set it down and wipe my greasy fingers on a napkin. Scooting my chair back, I head for the front door to find the UPS man there.

I’m not expecting anything so I’m surprised when he hands over a package addressed to me that requires a signature. The return address brings a smile to my face.

“Thank you,” I say as I sign his electronic pad.

I carry the lightweight box into the kitchen and Camden asks what it is.

“No clue. But it’s from Mitch’s mom. She sends gifts to Travis all the time, but this one is addressed to me.”

I set it on the counter and move back toward the table.

“Open it,” Camden says, nodding at the package. He must sense my curiosity and excitement.

I stare at him a moment, unsure if it’s rude to take part of our lunch hour to do so, but he nods again at the gift, a firm expression on his face.

Decision made, I grab scissors from the utility drawer and cut along the packing tape. Balled-up pieces of newspaper surround what I immediately see is a scrapbook. Mitch’s mom, Cora, loves the hobby and has chronicled our lives over the years in these books. I run my hand lovingly over the front, done in a blue-and-purple-checked fabric with an inset picture of me and Mitch. We were young… the newest of friends.

I feel Camden behind me and then his hand is lightly on my waist as he looks over my shoulder. “What is it?”

“A scrapbook.” I start to push it away but his other hand comes around to lay on mine, halting my movement.

“Go ahead and open it. Let’s see it.”

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