Page 104 of The Long Game

“David threatened to come clean if my father fired him or demoted him.” The day of the incident with Sparkles had been the anniversary party and there had been pre-celebration drinks. I knew what alcohol did to David. It made him cocky. Braggy. “I overheard David. He was so happy, telling all of this to… Paul. Sparkles. He was blabbing all his secrets to the mascot of the team. A giant bird made of polyester. Right there, in the stairwell, where anyone could have heard. As if this was some locker story you shared with your teammates instead of… my life.”

I stopped talking, needed a second to myself. Focusing on Cameron’s touch.

“I felt so incredibly small,” I continued, voice breaking. “Deemed unsuitable by David. Incapable of handling one of the most natural things in life by my father. Not enough. And what was worse, I felt betrayed by the club I’d given so much to. Sparkles being the one listening to all of this made it so much worse in some bizarre way.” My voice wavered again. “So, when I saw the silly bird shaking his ass in the middle of everything and everyone that represented the Miami Flames, not even ten minutes later, as if nothing had happened, as if my whole world hadn’t been turned on its axis, I did break.”

Cameron’s eyes roamed all over my face, my body, in a desperate, aimless way. And when they finally returned to mine, I recognized the question in them. So I nodded—how could I not—and before I could so much as blink, he was settling me on his lap and bringing me to his chest.

“The last thing I remember is walking toward Paul,” I whispered, and Cameron’s arms came around my shoulders and waist. Tighter. As tightly as I’d ever been held. “Then, Sparkles’s head was at my feet.”

Cameron hummed deep in his throat, the sound reverberating against my body.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I was crazy,” I heard myself say. “Seeing as even that way, even after everything I heard, I’m here, proving myself to them. To him. Instead of confronting them.” My voice turned into a murmur. “But I guess I’m not that brave. And I still messed up. I hate messes. I’m usually the one who cleans them up.”

That club was everything I knew. My life was the Miami Flames and, therefore, my father. So what else could I have done but try to win them back?

“Do you want to hear what I think?” Cameron asked.

I closed my eyes, burying my head beneath his chin, sticking my nose right into his chest. God, I loved it here. I loved how solid he felt against my skin. How safe. I didn’t want to lose that. “No, I really don’t want to. But I also know you’re going to tell me anyway.”

A short puff of breath fell against my temple, and for an instant panic settled in my gut at his silence. I cared what Cameron thought of me. I cared how he felt and how he saw me. I cared too much, and I realized now that it wasn’t something new. A part of me had always cared.

“I think,” he finally said, his hand suddenly cupping my face and tipping my chin up. “That for someone who’s always justifying everybody else’s shit behavior, you’re extremely hard on yourself.” The green of his eyes darkened, and his tongue flicked over his bottom lip, as if preparing himself for what was coming next. “I think that you’ve worked so hard at keeping yourself contained, so in control and safe behind that hard shell you put around yourself, that it was all bound to collapse.” His gaze dropped down to my lips, and his thumb caressed the line of my mouth. “I also know that I’ll need to stop myself from catching a flight to Miami the moment we get up from this blanket.” His frown turned serious. Focused. Distracting.“And last but certainly not least…” he trailed off, his voice changing, morphing into a rasp.

I could do nothing but watch as the man holding me inhaled deep and slow through his nose, as if needing a pause. A moment. A curse left him under his breath, and before I could prepare, his hands were moving, reaching around my waist and guiding me around his lap until we were fully facing each other.

My body lit up, and I rested my palms on his chest. My heart pounded, mirroring the way his chest seemed to thrum against my hands.

“Last but not least,” he resumed, voice so low I wouldn’t have heard it if I wasn’t so close. “I know, with terrifying certainty, that once the shock and anger at the world for being so fucking ugly had passed, I’ve never been more in awe, more stunned silly, more turned on, by such a display of viciousness.” He pushed me up with his legs, leveling my gaze with his, and making my knees fall onto the blanket on each side of his hips. “So much that ever since seeing that video, I’ve been physically restraining myself from kissing you. From taking your mouth and feeling all that fire burning inside you against my tongue.”

All that fire.

Fire. Cameron saw fire in me.

And it did feel like flames were suddenly licking at my skin from the inside, making me so suddenly hot that I was finding it hard to pull in a breath. All I could think wasKiss me. Please. Take my mouth.“That’s ridiculous,” I whispered.

“Maybe,” he said, his expression tightening, the tilt of his mouth severe. “But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

My hands closed around the fabric of his jacket. I’d never experienced this kind of need in my life. This dizzying attraction that went beyond looks and ink and muscles. It was him. Cameron, who caused this craving to pierce right though me.

Cameron’s chin dipped down. “Don’t you see? You are anything but dispassionate, Adalyn. You’re relentless, determined, fiery, and have made every moment I’ve happened to be next to you as alive asthe fucking sun lighting everything up at dawn. Anybody who fails to see that is either blind or some worthless piece of sh—”

“Cameron,” I whispered, bringing his words to a stop.

Something passed between us.

His jaw clenched. “Tell me,” he said. My heart sped up, wanting out of my chest. His hands moved around my waist, his fingers pressing into my skin with barely restrained pressure. “Give me permission to—”

I closed the distance between our mouths.

Cameron was stunned for a fraction of a second, as if he had expected me to deny him, and then he melted against me, making a deep, throaty sound. His mouth moved on mine, lips parted, and one of his hands moved up, finding the back of my head, bringing me closer to him.

Every cell, every ounce of who I was, came alive against his lips. Cameron deepened the kiss, and when a whimper climbed out of my chest, his fingers curled around my hair. My arms flew to his neck in response, snaking around it and clutching him to me with a desperation I’d never felt before him.

Another groan vibrated against my chest, mouth, body, and I felt his other hand move to my back, stopping at the base of my spine. He pulled me deeper into his lap. Hips clashed, and God, I could feel him so hard and hot beneath me, so unbelievably solid against my body, that all sense escaped me.

I came up for air with a breathless gasp. And Cameron’s mouth dropped to my jaw, traveled along my skin, down my neck and up to my ear. He nipped at a sensitive spot there, and when my eyelids fluttered shut, a loud moan I wasn’t sure was mine echoed in the night.

“Fuck,” he rasped against my skin.

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