Reese

 

A couple of weeks had passed since Cam and I started our PT sessions. He claimed he had more range of motion in his knee, or at least that’s what he said. He could have been lying just to appease me. But I’d been watching him carefully, and he did seem to be moving better, smoother.

Our time together was feeling more intimate by the day.

We hadn’t done anything more in the sexual arena, though. But I could feel how he was holding back because God knows I was, too. I didn’t know what I wanted out of the situation—let alone what he wanted—so I wasn’t about to make a move. Did I want a relationship with him? Would we even be good together? Would he be able to deal with monogamy? That was, after all, my biggest sticking point. If he wanted to continue to flirt with other women, or more, then he could kiss any chances with me vamoose.

I’d come to an inescapable conclusion these past few weeks.

I liked him. Like, really liked him.

If all he wanted was some quick nookie in darkened hallways and abandoned stairwells, well, my lady bits had been so starved lately I was at the point where I might consider taking him up on the offer. But it would be on my terms. I had to protect my own heart if he wasn’t interested in the position. If he was simply after my body, I’d rip a page out of the ‘ol Cam Donovan playbook and give him that and nothing else.

I could not allow myself to fall for him if he wasn’t willing to catch me.

Listen to yourself. I actually had a thing for Cam Donovan, the Don Juan of the college basketball world. I guess stranger things have happened.

I was suddenly so annoyed with myself, I was tempted to throw a medicine ball through the window. It was Saturday, so we once again had the team weight room to ourselves. I began stretching as I waited for him to arrive, figuring that if I was here I might as well get in my own workout. He was so quiet when he walked in the door, I wouldn’t have known he was there if I hadn’t seen him in the mirror.

“Hey.”

He didn’t look up as he dropped his duffel bag to the floor. “Hey.”

Something was wrong. He didn’t make any suggestive comments or wink at me or flex his muscles. Hell, he wasn’t even ogling me in my tight pants like he usually did.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He finally lifted his head and politely smiled. Cam was never polite. “Let’s get going.”

I decided not to push it for now. We began our regular routine. I did my own exercises right along with him, but he didn’t say a word, not even making conversation.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” I finally asked when I could no longer stand the silence.

“I told you I’m fine, Reese.”

He wiped sweat off his brow with his T-shirt, giving me a brief glimpse at his washboard abs. Hot damn. Still unconvinced, I watched him perform his reps and knew his mind was completely preoccupied. For whatever reason, he clearly wasn’t feeling it today. So, I went with my gut.

“You want to take a break and do something else?”

His gaze lifted to mine, questioningly. “What do you mean? Just skip today?”

“No, I thought maybe we could go on some of the hiking trails around Blue Lake. It would still be a good workout for your knee.” I added, “I could use some fresh air,” so he wouldn’t feel as if I was doing this solely for him. Which, of course, I was.

He thought about it for a few seconds and then shrugged. “Sounds good. I haven’t been out there in a while.”

Unnerved by his lack of both enthusiasm and teasing, I gathered up my stuff and we headed to our vehicles.

“We can take my Jeep,” he said. “We might need a four-wheel drive on some of those roads.”

Other than him changing the radio station a few times and asking about my preference of music, we didn’t say much during the drive. The lake bisected the towns of Calhoun and Blue Lake, though the majority of it was in the Blue Lake city limits. And with both of our towns so close together, people from both areas would commiserate at the lake, especially during the summer. The hot springs along one trail were also a popular spot to hang out, particularly during this time of year when it was colder.

Today, however, was unseasonably warm for late January. With the sun shining brightly in the cloudless sky, I only needed my light fleece jacket on over my tank top to be comfortable. Pine trees engulfed us as he drove into the conservation area around the lake. Following the road we passed several vehicles and bikers, who were no doubt also taking advantage of the warmer weather. Cam pulled the Jeep over when he found a clearing to park. We grabbed our water bottles and stepped out into the forest-scented wilderness. I could see the sparkling lake through the trees and for just a moment it really did feel like summer.

“What do you think?” he asked, pointing to the signs in front of us. “Should we do the Waterfall Ridge trail or Boulder Canyon?”

The hot springs weren’t too far from the waterfall. Maybe we would want to dip our feet in after walking so much. “Waterfall Ridge.”

He gently guided me forward and we started walking. We didn’t get more than fifty yards into the trail when I blurted out, “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Why do you assume anything is going on?”

“Because despite what you think, I actually pay attention. I may not know you super well, but I know enough to realize that something is bothering you.” When he remained silent, I said in a softer voice, “You can talk to me, Cam. I promise anything you say will stay between us.”

That seemed to mollify him. “Today is my dad’s birthday.”

My heart hurt so much for him. Even with our strained relationship over the years, I couldn’t imagine losing my father. Especially at such a young age, when your dad is still your hero and can do no wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

“This day sucks every year, even more so than the anniversary of his death. Isn’t that crazy? That I get more upset over remembering his birthday than I do the day he actually left us.”

I rubbed my hand down his arm, ignoring the ridges of muscle I encountered. “I imagine remembering the happy times can sometimes be more painful than remembering the sad ones.”

He pulled a branch off of a tree and immediately through it back into the woods. Guess it wasn’t to his liking. “He used to take me fishing every year for his birthday. We used to have a house in the Outer Banks and every year we’d spend the whole weekend fishing on the boat. I was a kid back then, so I looked at it differently than I do now. But I remember wondering why he didn’t want to have a big birthday party with all his friends and cake and everything, like I did for my birthday. It made me feel special, though. That he wanted to spend his birthdays with me.”

He was breaking my heart. What a terrible thing for a little boy to suddenly have yanked from his life. I wanted to cry for young Cam, and I wanted to cry for adult Cam because he was clearly hurting deeply. The guy who acted like nothing ever fazed him was opening up to me.

“Most things have gotten easier over time,” he continued. “Thanksgiving and Christmas. But it’s his birthday that’s always the hardest for me and my mom. I had lunch with her today and it was so depressing. Not that it was her fault or anything. You could just tell we only had one thing on our minds.” He kicked a big rock on the trail out of the way. “I dread this day every year.”

“Have you ever been fishing out there since he died?”

His head snapped around to me. The question surprised him. “No. My mom had to sell the house and the boat after he died to help pay for his medical bills.”

That must have been like adding insult to injury. I couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been for his mom.

“Well, maybe you should try some time,” I said. “Like you guys used to. There’s other ways to go fishing, even without a boat. Maybe if you kept living those memories for him, rather than ignoring them and trying to push them away, it wouldn’t be so hard when days like this come around.” I felt the intense scrutiny of his gaze and it made me antsy. “Just a suggestion.”

I thought I saw him grin out of my peripheral vision, but I refused to look at him. The moment felt too heavy, and I really didn’t want him to witness how vulnerable I was around him.

“I might have to do that,” was all he said.

We walked a little more and as the trail steepened, I began to feel how out of shape I’d gotten.

“Think we could talk about something else?” he asked out of the blue, his voice lighter than a few minutes ago.

I hoped that meant he was returning to his usual self. Melancholy Cam was difficult to adapt to.

I nodded. “Sure. I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t been as selfless with the ball lately. Even the sportscasters have mentioned you’ve been playing with a more take-charge attitude.”

“Your point?”

“Oh, nothing,” I said, shrugging. “Except that you’re welcome for the tip.”

He grunted. “I don’t think I like this topic either.”

I turned away to hide my grin. “I can quote every Lord of the Rings movie by heart.”

Rather than question my random turn of conversation, he simply chuckled and asked, “Every line?”

“Yep.”

“Impressive. I can rap every song from Eminem’s The Slim Shady album.”

I laughed. “Is that your party trick?”

He waggled his eyebrows, assuring me he was starting to come out of his funk. “It’s not my only party trick, but I’ve been known to pull it out of my hat every now and then. What better way to impress the ladies?”

I bumped his shoulder with mine. “So true. You want to see my party trick?”

He stopped mid-step, his body frozen in place. Slowly, he looked over at me with the dirtiest grin. “Is that a trick question?” He looked around us conspiratorially. “Someone might catch us, though.”

I punched his arm, sending him into a laughing fit. “Oh, give it a rest. That’s not what I meant, you idiot.”

He finally stopped laughing when I turned to face him. Sticking my tongue out, I contorted it into one of the many shapes I was able to form—this time, a three-leaf clover. His eyes widened and he stepped closer, staring at my tongue as if it were a puzzle to be solved.

“What the…” he trailed off. “How the hell are you doing that?”

I formed another shape by folding the ends of my tongue upward, making it look like a bathtub. He followed up that display with a “holy shit, that’s unreal.”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “I saw a guy in my class do it once when I was a kid, so I tried it. It evolved from there.” I’d learned over the years that people were usually weirdly fascinated by it. “And the coup de gras.”

This time, I folded the ends of my tongue inward and moved them back and forth. It created the effect of a cat’s eyeball that was winking at you.

He reared back in shock, his eyes glued to my tongue. A grin slowly formed. “No way. That is definitely something I’ve never seen before.”

“Some guys get freaked out by it. Even a little grossed out.”

And now I felt massively stupid for showing him. The last thing I wanted to do was gross out a guy like Cam.

“Those guys are morons, then,” he said adamantly. “I think a talent like that has the same meaning behind it that being able to tie a cherry stem with your tongue does.”

I narrowed my eyes at him in speculation.

“You know,” he prompted. “They say people who can do that are supposed to be good kissers. I think the same holds true with your little trick, especially since I’ve had that tongue in my mouth before so I can attest to your…skills.”

My face went up in flames. Dammit, I’d been doing so well with my self-control. Why did he have to go and say that?

“But maybe you could remind me,” he said, backing me up against a tree.

I put my hands on his shoulders to brace myself. “Wh-what are you doing?”

He framed my face with his hands, his gaze unnaturally tender. “Reminding myself.”

“Of what?” I whispered against his parted lips.

“You know what.”

Our eyes were locked together for several seconds. I assumed he was waiting for me to refuse him and I probably should have. But in that moment, after hearing his heartbreak over his dad’s birthday, I didn’t have it in me to turn him down. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it bad and I wanted it rough and needy.

“You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are, Reese.” His heavy breaths mingled with mine in the scarce space between our mouths. “Or how tempting.”

Just as he lowered his gaze to my mouth and started to lean in, someone on the trail shouted, “On your left!”

Cam flattened me against the tree, shielding me with his body, as two bikers whipped by us on the trail, kicking up dirt and rocks at our feet. “Leave some room for the rest of us, assholes!” he yelled at them, but they were already around the bend.

He looked back at me. “You okay?”

I couldn’t help it. I burst into laughter. Just my luck. I’d been so turned on I could barely breathe, and then we almost get run over by a couple of bikes. Figures.

He watched me quizzically but eventually joined in on the joke. Sensing the moment between us was broken, he tipped his head at the trail. “Come on, let’s go. Or we’ll be spending the night out here with the bears.”

I didn’t care so much about the bears. Spending a night out here in the woods with him didn’t sound that bad. Nobody could blame me, though, right? I mean, his body was never not on display, and a girl only had so much restraint. Like right now, for instance, he wore a fitted T-shirt underneath a zip-up hoodie. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, showcasing his strong forearms, his corded biceps visible through the material. He still had on his thin athletic shorts, which highlighted his toned calves. Any straight woman would be crazy to not want to spend a night alone with his ripped physique lying next to hers.

About a half a mile later, we were nearing the hot springs. “Feel like going skinny dipping?” he asked slyly.

That’s when we heard voices—definitely a group of people—coming from the area of the hot springs. “Sounds like we’d be crashing the party.”

His head jerked around, his expression surprised, yet pleased. “That wasn’t an outright no. I’m taking that as encouragement.”

I was trying my hardest not to picture him in his skinny dipping attire. “You shouldn’t.”

“Too late.”

We cleared the tree line that led down to the hot springs, a series of stone steps guiding the way. There was a group of almost a dozen people scattered around the pool of bubbling water, open coolers and camping chairs spread out among them. Empty beer cans littered the ground, and if I wasn’t mistaken that was the smell of pot in the air. Yeah, probably not the best place for a pit stop.

“Looks like the skinny dipping will have to wait,” he said on a low exhale. With his hand on my lower back, he steered me back up the path, toward the trail.

That was until we heard his voice.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the King of the Court and his little trainer.”

Cam groaned and I closed my eyes. “You have got to be—”

“Fucking kidding me,” he finished.

Together, we slowly turned back around to face the group.

And found none other than Trey Warren himself in the center of the pack, casually lounging in the spring without a shirt, wearing the most evil smirk I’d ever seen.

Great. First, we almost get run over by bikes and now this.

Throw me a freaking bone here, Universe.