The K Word: Cameron (Redefine Me #0.5)

by Michelle MacQueen

  The K Word: Cam

  A Redefining Me Prequel

  Michelle MacQueen

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  The F Word: Chapter One

  The F Word: Chapter 2

  About the Author

  Also by Michelle MacQueen

  About the Book

  Can one simple kiss change everything?

  Cameron Tucker has only ever had one person he could count on: his best friend Peyton. She’s been everything to him. Friend. Family. Confident. He needs her more than he needs his dream of becoming an Olympic runner or his desire to make his demanding father proud.

  A Christmas Eve party could ruin everything when a cruel joke crushes Peyton. And the only way to make Peyton see just how beautiful she is might be to reveal the feelings Cam has tried so hard to hide.

  Chapter 1

  Cameron Tucker, all around track god, leaned into the sharp turn of the indoor track. Cheers rose from the crowd as they chanted his name. He was really going to do it. Olympic gold. Only one more lap. His feet pounded into the synthetic floor and his heart thudded in his ears.

  One man stood ahead preparing to crown him the king of all runners.

  The click of the stopwatch snapped him from his daze and he slowed, stopping halfway down the next straight away before turning and jogging back to his coach.

  The cheers faded away. One day they’d be for him. But not today. Today, he was just a sixteen-year-old kid with big dreams and a sour-looking coach.

  “Five seconds slower than yesterday, Cameron.” Coach crossed his arms. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  No. He didn’t want to tell his coach that he’d had to picture himself at the Olympics just to keep his head in the game today. That even that goal couldn’t quell the nerves in his stomach or the exhaustion from spending half the night before preparing a very important Christmas present.

  He bent over, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “I’m fine. Just a bit off.”

  His coach grunted. “Understatement.”

  A second man approached them, a wide smile on his face. “Cameron Tucker.” He stretched out his hand.

  Cam glanced from the hand to the man’s face and straightened. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  The man dropped his hand, unfazed. “Good. Good.”

  “Can we help you?” Coach asked.

  The man’s eyes widened as he scanned them both. “You’re Allen Tucker.”

  Yep, coach also went by the name of Dad.

  The man continued. “Olympic hopeful who was caught with drugs in his system.”

  Cameron sighed. If the man wanted something, he’d never get it now. Allen Tucker was synonymous with performance-enhancing drugs. He’d made the Olympic track team on his own, but started juicing before leaving to go abroad. The scandal broke while he was in Olympic village and he’d never recovered from the scandal.

  He’d never gotten to compete on the biggest stage on earth. Now his hopes rested on his son, Cameron.

  Cam walked past the man to grab a bottle of water he’d left at the side of the track. Taking a few gulps, he wiped the sweat from his eyes.

  The man followed him. “I’m Grant Covey from the Tribune. We’ve met before.”

  Cameron shrugged. If he had a dollar for every reporter he’d met, he could buy his father’s dreams back so he didn’t have to pin them on his son.

  Covey didn’t seem bothered by the cold reception. “I’m doing a follow up. In October, you broke the national high school record in the 400 as a sophomore. Many think the Olympic committee already has their eye on you.”

  Cameron shrugged.

  “We’d like to follow you.”

  Cam arched a brow. “Follow me? That doesn’t sound creepy at all.”

  Mr. Reporter chuckled. “What I mean is we’d like to get a real look at who Cameron Tucker is. The running world is curious about you. How has the son of Allen Tucker managed to stay out of the spotlight until this year? What is your training schedule? Things like that.”

  Cam flattened his lips. He’d always had reporters sniffing around his family, but if his father had done one thing right, it was shielding him from the scrutiny. All Cam knew was the track. He trained to the point of losing his entire adolescence. Hell, it was Christmas Eve and here he was at seven in the morning.

  He pushed a hand through his shaggy brown hair and cracked his neck. “No.”

  “What?” The reporter’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Had anyone said no to his spotlight before?

  But Cam wouldn’t budge. His life belonged to him, not to the rest of the running world. He’d agreed to the press conference after breaking the record because his father claimed they wouldn’t leave him alone if he didn’t. That had spawned a hundred articles all over the internet.

  That would have to be enough.

  Cam’s father, who’d stayed quiet until then, put a hand on his shoulder. For one shocked moment, Cam thought it was a show of support. Then he spoke.

  “We’ve kept you hidden and focused long enough, Cameron. The publicity will keep all Olympic eyes on you.”

  Cam glanced from his father to the reporter and back again, a sick realization churning in his gut. “Who did you call?”

  Covey looked as confused as Cam felt.

  His father pinned him with a stare. “Analisa at Runner’s World.”

  Covey bristled. “The Tribune will do your story more justice.”

  Cam deflated, knowing his father would get what he wanted. He always did. “You can go.” Cam directed his response to Covey. “It seems my story has already been sold.” He shoved his belongings into his duffle and slung it over his shoulder before facing his father once more. “By the way, coach, Merry Christmas.”

  He trudged away, exhaustion weighing him down. It wasn’t Christmas yet, but by afternoon, his parents would be on a plane to Paris for the entire month. Happy holidays.

  At least they had enough sense not to drag him along when he had school and training. And it would give him a break from his father’s harsh demands.

  Without bothering to head to the locker room for a shower, he crossed the field house and pushed open the doors, letting in a blast of icy air.

  Cold sweat slithered down his spine as he crossed the slick parking lot to his car and slid in, blasting the heat.

  As he drove away from the massive training facility, the tension in his shoulders eased. He didn’t hate running. In fact, it was the only thing in his life that made any sense. His goals gave him something to hold on to.

  But the pressure only increased the older he got. Even coming in five seconds slower than yesterday, his time would have beat any teenage runner in the state. And it wasn’t good enough. Not for his father, at least.

  He turned into his driveway and cut the engine. Pulling his duffle out behind him, he walked up to the entirely too-large house. Pale brick spanned the expansive front face with a pillared entryway.

  Inside, it didn’t feel any more like home. It never had. His mother had designed the space beautifully, but the entire house felt breakable. Much like his life.

  “Cameron, sweetie,” his mother called from the kitchen. “That you?”

  He dropped his bag and crossed the white tiled floor to enter the gleaming kitchen. “Hi, mom.” He kissed her cheek, but she pushed him away.

  “You stink, baby.”

  Cam shrugged and perched himself on a stool at the counter. Now that he wasn’t running, he had too much time to think about why he was so off today. Christmas Eve. The party. His pr
esent. Peyton.

  He didn’t know when or how he’d somehow developed feelings for his best friend, but he didn’t like it. Things with his family had always been… strained. But that had been okay because he had the Callahans. Peyton’s family had taken him in and made them one of their own.

  What would his friend, Cooper think if he knew Cam couldn’t stop thinking about his little sister? No matter how bad his life had gotten, nothing had ever effected his running. To him, it was life. So how could thinking of Peyton—a girl he’d known most of his life—throw him so completely off balance?

  “Cameron.”

  It took him a moment to realize his mother was speaking to him. He lifted his eyes to find her holding out his morning smoothie. He took it with what he hoped came across as a grateful smile. His mother wasn’t a bad person. She was a celebrity fitness instructor, whipping the world into shape with videos and other products.

  “Where’s Amy?” he asked as he tried to ignore the chalky protein in the shake. His mother always used too much.

  She gave him a withering look. “It’s Christmas Eve, Cameron. The maid deserves to be with her family.”

  The words sank into him, curdling in his stomach. Amy was spending the holiday with her children, yet Cam’s parents were leaving.

  They hadn’t even considered what missing the holiday would mean to their son.

  Cam felt his mom’s eyes on him, but he glanced back down at the table.

  “When did you get a haircut, dear?”

  “Yesterday.” He wouldn’t admit why. That he wanted to look his best for a certain friend. Peyton wouldn’t care. He knew that. She’d seen him sweaty, covered in dirt, naked. Okay, that last part was only when they were kids.

  “Hmmm.” His mother’s long fingers brushed under his chin, tilting his head up. “I wish you would have gone to my hairdresser.” She pursed her lips in distaste.

  Cam pushed away from the counter as the front door opened. “I’m going to shower.”

  He walked past his father in the hall without a word.

  “Son,” his father called. “Wait a minute.”

  Cam sighed and paused at the base of the staircase, his hand gripping the railing tightly.

  “About the article…” His father proceeded cautiously as if he knew exactly how his son would react.

  “What about it.” Cam turned to face him and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “They’ve agreed to wait until I return from Paris for the interview.”

  Cam nodded as if he understood completely. And he did. His father didn’t care how Cam would feel in the spotlight, he only wanted to be there to make sure Cam didn’t say anything that would reflect badly on his dear old dad.

  If there was one thing Cam knew, it was that arguing was a futile activity. His father always won, he always got his way. The sooner Cam gave in, the better it would be for all of them.

  One day, he swore he’d be able to control his own life.

  And today was not that day.

  “Sure dad.” He turned and started climbing the tall staircase. “I’ll do the interview in a month.”

  “That’s my boy.” His father’s voice followed him as he entered the sanctuary of his room. Empty blue walls greeted him. He’d never had the urge to cover the surfaces in posters of bands he didn’t have time to listen to or movies he never went to see.

  One day, it would all be worth it. Everything he’d given up. The time he’d never had. His only friends were people Peyton dragged into their lives because he’d never had the chance to make his own. Not even the rest of the track team.

  He went to his closet and parted the jeans hanging in his face. On the back wall, he’d pinned up the article that came out months ago. It was all about him, but there wasn’t a single mention of who his father was. Cameron Tucker was proud of his accomplishments, and he’d be damned if he was going to let his parents ruin the one thing he loved.

  Chapter 2

  The plastic stars didn’t glow in the day time, but as Cameron stared at his ceiling, their presence gave him comfort. He’d put them there with Peyton. Her brothers had helped too back when they’d all been friends.

  Cam didn’t know why it happened, but eventually, Cooper’s twin, Julian pulled away from the group. Cam had so few people he cared about in his life, he’d hated losing even one.

  But that was before Peyton became everything to him. He didn’t need anyone else when she was with him. Her kindness was something Cam had never experienced before. She was the best person he knew.

  And that was why he had to forget about the feelings brewing deep in his chest. If he lost her, he’d truly be alone.

  Cam would never admit it to the guys, but he’d never even been on a date, never kissed a girl. When had he had time? Relationships would only interfere with his goals. There was no point.

  And what if he was bad at it?

  That wasn’t to say he’d never been asked out before. More than a few girls invited him to dances over the years. He never went. They’d been cute, and he’d caught many talking about him. He saw the looks at school.

  But they only wanted a challenge. He was the mysterious athlete no one could have. Except Peyton. She could have anything from him she wanted.

  He rolled over with a groan. No. That wasn’t how this would go. He had to pick her up in two hours and he’d shut it down for good. He cared about her, but couldn’t go further than that.

  “Cameron, we’re leaving,” his mother called up the stairs.

  “See you in a month,” he responded. To himself, he whispered, “Merry Christmas.”

  He rolled out of bed and crossed the room to his desk to examine the training regime his father mapped out. He didn’t even give him Christmas day off. Cam put earbuds in his ears and got down on the floor to work on daily stretches and ab routines. His muscles pulled and lengthened, pain burning up his legs. He’d always enjoyed the pain. It pushed him.

  An hour later, he walked into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Amy had left him precooked meals, but he wasn’t very hungry. He took out a single chicken breast and ate it on the way back to his room.

  As he flipped through his closet, he realized he had nothing to wear. He’d been to a million parties at Addison’s, but this one seemed different, monumental somehow, as if something big was about to happen.

  He chewed on the last bite of chicken and pulled dark-wash jeans from their hanger. After stripping off his sweats, he stepped into the jeans and stood in front of the mirror.

  He’d never really thought about his body before. To him, it had always just been the tool he used to achieve his dreams. He had lean, muscular runner’s legs and a slim waist. His abs were visible, but not chiseled like most of his classmates tried to achieve. He studied himself, wondering why he even cared.

  As long as his legs reached the speed he strived for, why did it matter what they looked like?

  He shook his head and pulled a navy blue polo from the closet before shrugging it over his head. The outfit was nice and felt foreign on his frame. His friends usually saw him in running shorts or loose jeans.

  He patted down his messy hair and walked to the bathroom. The gel on his shelf called out to him. He hadn’t put product in his hair in so long, he wondered if he remembered how.

  Squeezing a dab onto his palm, he brushed it through his locks, styling it neatly.

  Nerves churned through him.

  “It’s just Peyton,” he told himself. “The girl you’ve known all your life.”

  But it wasn’t the same girl. Last time they’d been together just hanging out in his room as always, he’d wanted to kiss her. The thought had struck him like a bludgeon, and he’d made an excuse about having to train to get her to leave. He hadn’t stopped thinking of her. That was a week ago, and he’d avoided her ever since.

  There was no more avoiding her though. She’d asked him for a ride to the party and he was physically incapable of saying no to her.

/>   He blew out a breath. It was time.

  He took the steps two at a time and snatched his keys from the hook by the door before pulling on his jacket and stepping outside. It was already dark by the time he drove to the Callahan house. They lived a few streets over in a large ranch-style house with a long gray stone driveway.

  Cam swallowed thickly before cutting the engine and stepping onto the icy walk. He reached their door too quickly and hesitated. What was he doing? This house was more like home than his own. Normally, he didn’t even knock. But tonight felt different.

  “Grow some balls, Cameron Tucker,” he growled to himself.

  Gathering the courage, he knocked three times.

  The door opened quickly and Cam stumbled back. He hoped he said something to Peyton, but he couldn’t even hear himself speak. She looked stunning. The dress she wore dipped low in the front, but not enough to show too much. It hugged her curves elegantly. He’d always thought Peyton was beautiful, in part because she had this amazing heart that showed in every smile, every word.

  Before Cam registered what was happening, they were at his car. Peyton reached for the door, but he jumped forward, unable to stop himself. “Let me get that for you.”

  The smile she shot him sent his heart rate skyrocketing.

  As he slipped into the car, all he could hear was his pulse thundering in his ears.

  They made small talk for a minute before Cam couldn’t stop himself. “You’re really beautiful, Peyton,” he blurted. “Not just tonight. You always are, but that dress is really something.” He wanted to take the words back until he saw the smile she tried to hide from him.

  “Glad you like it.”

  Before they could pull out, a knock jolted them out of their locked gazes.

  Julian said something Cam didn’t hear and pulled open the door to climb in. “Mind if I bum a ride? Coop has the car tonight.”