“I don’t know why,” Daniella said, her voice lacking the conviction a real leader had. In the past, I’d pushed back on Audrey if I felt it was right.
“You agree with her? You think me being in the back is the right move?”
“Are you two listening?” Audrey asked, her tone impatient now.
“No, because I’m confused. Why do you want me in the back? We practiced yesterday, and you didn’t say a word.”
“I think it’s best.”
“For you or the team?” I fired back. The girls all sucked in a breath, the humid air thick with tension. Music blared over the speaker as the guys warmed up, and fans were already filling the stands. “Why would you make the change now when nothing warranted it?”
“You’ll do it because it’s best for the team. Unless you want to walk away?”
Daniella reached over and had a death grip on my forearm, her little squeaks of please don’t leave, please don’t leave grounding me to the spot. There was active hate on Audrey’s face, and I had no idea why. None.
It just solidified that the bullshit smile from earlier was fake.
My blood boiled, and Daniella’s nails dug into my skin. I glanced at her, and she looked terrified. Pale face, wide eyes, bottom lip quivering. Her eyes pleaded with me.
One game. You can quit after tonight.
With a smile that tasted like vinegar, I sounded as bitchy as possible. “Sure, I’ll be in the back now because I wouldn’t want to fuck the team over at the last minute. But the second the game is over, I’m done. You want real leadership? It’s standing up for yourself. It’s walking away when someone becomes too toxic. I’m assuming this is what you wanted from the start, so congrats, Audrey. You won.”
Buzzing sounded in my ears like a million bees flew around my head. No, it was more like a train, a loud engine roaring as I headed off the field. I was going to hyperventilate. It’d be horrible and embarrassing and shit. My vision got cloudy, and I sat on the ground near the tunnel that led to the locker rooms. Deep breath in, then out.
In, then out.
“You’re not quitting. I refuse it.” Daniella ran up to me and crouched. She smelled like apples and hairspray, and her eyes had a fire in them I hadn’t noticed before.
“I need to. Coach…” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “I don’t know what happened with her, but I’m not doing this.”
“I’ll walk away with you. She won’t lose both captains.” Daniella got onto her knees and put her hands on my arms. “You held my hair when I puked on you. You agreed to co-captain with me because I’m a mess. You’re the leader of this squad, Cami. You’re the heart of the team.”
My eyes watered, and the emotions roaring through me were going to explode like a horrifying mascara-filled volcano. I had sparkles and glue on my eyes. I couldn’t fucking ruin them with stupid tears. Swallowing down the horrible ball in my throat, I shook my head. “You’ll stay. Our school needs a team.”
“We need you though.”
I shook my head, suddenly hating everything around me. I wanted to be alone so I could cry. I wanted to sob so hard I wouldn’t have a single tear left. I wanted to punch a wall over and over. Daniella shook me a little, her wide blue eyes searching my face. A part of me wondered if she enjoyed this, seeing my world crash and burn.
But there was no indication she was happy. She looked distraught.
“Please, Cami. Get through the game, and we’ll talk.”
It was the hardest thing I’d done in years, pushing myself up to my full height and willing the tears away. It was pride and ego, the only reasons I would go through the game with a blinding smile on my face. My family would be there, watching me and cheering. The formation of the team depended on me. I dusted off my butt and flashed my fake-ass megawatt smile.
“Okay, I’m ready. I’ll do the game.”
I imagined this was heartbreak. I couldn’t be sure exactly, since I’d never let myself feel enough to experience the sensation of my heart breaking, but this had to be close. Even the four shots of vodka didn’t ease the pain radiating from my chest like I was hooked to an IV of liquid fire.
My brain buzzed like a million flies swarmed in it, and I moved my body from side to side, swaying with the music to not think or feel. The party was the perfect place to go to avoid everything…the fact I left my uniform on the floor, shoved my decorations from my locker into my bag, and walked out without a word.
Audrey didn’t even try to stop me.
Daniella did, but I refused to look into her helpless face. I was choosing me this time. Me.
“Get it, Cami!” someone yelled, whistling at me as I danced on top of the bar. This was the perfect spot for me. On a bar, drunk, wearing little clothing. This was prime leadership right here. Moving my hips and bending low enough to show off my cleavage. If I made them all think I was this way, they couldn’t hurt me.
“Want another shot, baby?” a deep voice asked, and I nodded, watching the guy pour vodka into a glass. I might’ve been sloshed, but I still followed my rule of making sure I knew where my drink came from. Another shot wouldn’t kill me, but it could numb the lingering pain.
“Enough.” A stern, angry voice had me snapping my head toward the owner. I leaned closer to him, like all the nerves in my body knew safety was near, and I reached out a hand.
Freddie.
“You’re here!” I shouted, throwing my arms into the air. “Freddie is here! Another shot, please.”
“No.” He glared at me, his jaw working tight as he glanced around the bar. “What are you doing up there?”
“Distracting myself? What else?”
“Get down.”
“No.” I twirled around, shimmying at him, but I didn’t do it for long before he reached up with his paw-sized hands and gripped my hips.
Then my world spun, my stomach clenching as I tried to not throw up. I somehow ended up upside down, my legs hanging over Freddie’s chest with my face pressed against his back. “You’re carrying me like a caveman.”
“Yup.” He moved through the people, curious stares following us as I felt something soft and light touch my ass… almost like his hand was there. “Sorry, I’m making sure your dress doesn’t ride up.”
“You apologize for that but not for hoisting me over your shoulder.”
“Correct.”
A part of me was furious with him for interrupting my plans to forget everything. How dare he ruin my self-pitying vibe? I was on a roll. But another part of me, a small one, wanted to sink into him. I craved his kind eyes and gentle touch and for him to tell me it would be okay. That I hadn’t left my soul in the locker room.
He pushed open the bar door, and once we were outside, he set me on the ground and put his hands on his hips, glaring at me with disappointment. The idea of getting drunk seemed great at the time, but my legs felt too heavy to walk under the weight of his sadness, like I’d let him down.
It was one of the worst feelings ever. I focused on the sidewalk, trying not to spin from the shots. “Why are you here?”
“You never came back to the dorm.”
I snapped my gaze to him. “Were you waiting for me?”
He swallowed, hard, and his hands clenched at his sides. “You mentioned this party last week, and I don’t know… something seemed wrong at the game.”
“You were there?” I asked, hope infusing my voice. I didn’t know why it mattered, but if he was at the game…my chest swelled. “You don’t like football.”
He shuffled his feet back and forth and blushed. Even in the dim moonlight, redness painted his cheeks. “You told me you do this.” He gestured to me up and down. “When you want to not feel pain. What happened?”
My bottom lip trembled, his soft tone my complete undoing. His quiet, steady gaze pulled the final thread holding my emotions in, and I cried.
The sobs came out as big gasps of air, clogging my throat and stinging my eyes rimmed with makeup. Nothing was how I planned i
t this year. Not a thing, and the boxed-up emotions I sat with for months poured out like a leak in an air mattress. I was deflating. Wetness rolled down my face, ruining my makeup, but I didn’t care. My nose got stuffy, and my head spun as a cathartic, relief coursed through my body.
I didn’t hear Freddie approach me, and I certainly didn’t see him through the tears, but his familiar woodsy scent and comforting presence alerted me to his proximity. Utterly soundless, he wrapped his large arms around me and hoisted me up to his chest. Those large hands ran over my hair and down my back, and I swore he kissed the top of my head.
It had to be the alcohol talking.
I pressed my face into his shirt just above his collarbone and couldn’t stop the tears. He rubbed an up and down pattern along my spine and let me cry. It could’ve been ten minutes or an hour—I wasn’t sure. He held me against him, and just thinking about how nice he was had me crying all over again.
My gentle, soft-hearted giant.
“I’m taking us home.”
I sniffed, looked at the ground, and tried wiggling down to walk. He shook his head, and his grip on me tightened.
“No.” That was all he said.
Never in my life had a guy carried me, or held me, or let me cry on him. My dad had seen some tears but nothing like this. My breakdowns were private and in the shower without witnesses. But it didn’t seem to annoy Freddie. If anything, his disappointment had turned to sadness. Like my pain hurt him.
Something warm and pleasant plucked in my chest, my pulse getting stronger and faster as I rested my head against his neck. He took large strides, and his movement caused the wind to hit my face just right.
People would talk about this. Him carrying me. But I didn’t care. I didn’t want this to ever end, and when I nuzzled against his neck, I swore he trembled too. He smelled so good.
One little lick wouldn’t hurt.
I bit down on his neck, letting my tongue brush his skin, and I might as well have turned him into stone. He stopped everything. Walking, breathing, moving. His nails dug a little harder into my body before he said, “What was that?”
“My mouth.” I did it again, and for real, his body shivered. “I wanted to taste you.”
“Cami,” he said, his voice strained. “No, please.”
The rejection hurt, but I was so used to it that I ignored it. Instead, I went with pushing him. “Why? Does it not feel good?” I nipped his earlobe, and he sucked in a breath.
“We’re almost there.”
He walked faster, his strides so large that they jostled me so I couldn’t keep teasing him. It was a shame, really, because he tasted great. Sweaty, but all him. Something in my mind was telling me to knock it off, that this wasn’t the time, but I was in full self-destruction mode, and he was intent on saving me from it. Which was admirable, but I didn’t want to be stopped. I craned my neck to meet his eyes, but he wouldn’t look at me.
His throat bobbed with each swallow, and his jaw was tense enough I worried he could hurt himself. Poor Freddie. He didn’t have to carry me.
“Put me down, I can walk.”
“Thirty more seconds.” He grunted, and then without warning, he set me on the ground just outside the dorm. His chest heaved as he got out the key card and opened the door, walking a little weird.
“Did you hurt yourself carrying me? You shouldn’t have done that.”
“No. I’m fine.”
I frowned, reaching out to touch his hip to, you know, inspect it, but he turned at the same time, and my fingers brushed a very large and rock-hard bulge. “Oh.”
My stomach swooped, and I squeezed my thighs together. He was hard for me. My breathing became erratic, and my skin fucking tingled with want—the desire to touch him again, lick his skin, kiss him.
Time froze as my eyes locked on his. Heat and want and lust pooled in his gray gaze, but it didn’t last long. He ran a hand over his face and stormed down the hall. “Go to your room, Cami.”
“But—”
“No. No buts. I care about you and don’t want you sabotaging yourself, okay? Go to your room and stay in there.”
My temper flared. “You can’t just boss me around! Being by myself is the last thing I want right now!” I yelled, not caring that everyone could hear us. We were being those people. The ones who should take this conversation somewhere private.
“Then what do you fucking need? I’m not letting you dance on bars and get shitfaced alone. Call your sister if you have to. Anyone.”
I eyed our doors, the weight of everything hitting me hard, and the fight seeped out of me. I had no idea what I wanted. To be happy. To dance. To be chosen first at something in my life. Sitting in my hot ass dorm room wasn’t the best plan, but he was right. I should stay in there and away from everyone else. “Thanks for getting me home, Freddie.”
I got my key out and opened my door, not looking back at him once as I slipped inside. It wasn’t until I leaned against the door that it really hit me.
I wanted to be with Freddie. Not just as a fling or flirting. I wanted him to be mine, a person I shared my ups and downs with. The person who cared about me despite the downs. I sniffed and let myself fall to the ground as someone pounded on my door.
It could only be one person.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Freddie
Cami opened the door, her eyes rimmed with black, yet she was still the most beautiful person I had ever seen. Everything about her spoke to me in a physical, terrifying way, and my fingers itched to touch her. She might think that I carried her here because I was a gentleman. My intentions had started out that way, but once I felt her body against mine—once she fucking kissed my neck, it was like another person entered me.
“What?” she asked, her shoulders slumped and her voice sad and small. Her brown eyes were red, and her voice was husky from all the crying.
I party to not feel pain.
She had to be feeling a lot to dance on top of a bar and be drunk alone. Anger battled with worry, and worry won. “What happened tonight?”
“I quit the team.” She took a shaky breath, wrapping her arms around herself. “My coach put me in the back for no reason and demeaned me in front of the team. I can’t do it anymore. I turned in my uniform.”
She looked at the ground as her lips trembled again. “I don’t understand. Even when I contemplated about what to do the past month, I always knew deep down I’d stay. How could I not? But tonight…something changed. Who am I without dance, Freddie?”
“You.” I walked into her room, forcing her to move to the side, and fuck, it was hot in here. She hadn’t turned her fans on yet, so I went to the window, putting them all on full blast. The door shut us in, and it was just the two of us. If she hadn’t been drunk or sad, the scenario was a different one I’d thought about a zillion times. But she was both, and she’d admitted she didn’t want to be alone. “You’re still you. One thing doesn’t define you, Cami.”
“It’s always defined me.” She moved to sit on her bed and rested her face in her hands. “Why did I fucking drink this much? My room is spinning, and I feel sick.”
I grabbed a bottle of water from her mini fridge and handed it to her. I then joined her on the bed and lifted her hair from her back. It was drenched with sweat. “Let me get a washcloth to cool you down.”
“No, it’s fine.” She shoved my hand away, but I didn’t care. For every step she took opening up to me, she retreated three more.
I hated how she hadn’t texted me that she was spiraling and wanted to do something stupid. I thought things had changed after last week, but then again, I hadn’t called her either after Maddie reached out. The fragile line between us was still there, and I wanted to blast it away.
Finding a washcloth from the side of her bed, I went to the restroom and wetted it as cold as I could. By the time I returned, she had taken off her dress and was lying on her bed in just a black lacy bra thing and black panties.
; Fucking hell.
“It’s so hot I can’t breathe. Is my skin melting off?” She didn’t open her eyes at all.
“Here.” I sat on the edge of her bed, letting my gaze move from her collarbone to her chest, admiring the swells of her breasts and the peek-a-boo lace giving me a hint of her nipple color. My entire body went taut with want, but I shut it down. I brought the washcloth to her face and wiped it across her cheeks, her neck, then down her cleavage, and over her stomach.
Her belly ring teased me, and my mouth watered. I wanted to bite the diamond there, and I’d never bitten anyone in my life. I refused to let my gaze move to her panties though because I only had so much self-control.
“You’re probably sweating out the alcohol and adrenaline.” I handed her the water bottle. “Take a sip.”
She did, and some of it fell down her throat and onto her neck. “I just want to be chosen first for once. You know? Between my parents, my friends, the team. My sister. I’m always the second choice. Always.”
The absolute pain and truth in her words caused my chest to hollow out. Words escaped me because how could I comfort her? How could I fix everything for her?
“Drink again, please.” I watched her swallow two large gulps, and I wiped her face and neck again with the towel. My own shirt stuck to my skin, but it had nothing to do with the heat from the room and everything to do with her.
She rubbed her eyes with her palms and gasped when she stared down at her hands. “Oh my god. My eyes! You let me look like this?” She jumped from the bed, her stance wobbly, and glanced at a small mirror on her closet door. The muscles in her legs flexed as she stood there, the line of her panties showing almost all of her ass. “Freddie! I look like a drowned rat dressing up as a zombie!”
“I was more concerned about you, not your eye makeup. Plus, you’re fucking beautiful, always.” I felt my face flame at the compliment. She didn’t hear it though. She groaned and pulled out a robe. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Showering!” she yelled, her manic energy unbalanced from the alcohol and emotions. “Look at me!”
From the Top (Central State) Page 12