by L A Cotton
“Hmm, Coach is looking for you, but I can see you’re busy.”
“Ash,” Cameron growled.
He threw up his hands. “I didn’t see a thing.” There was a lilt in his voice. Humor. And I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. “But you might want to... hurry.” Asher tipped his head to the hall.
“Yeah, give me a minute.” Cameron sounded cold now, and the fire died inside me. I tried to wriggle free again, but he was too strong, refusing to let me up.
“Hails,” Asher smirked. “Looking good.” He turned and left, pulling the door closed behind him.
“Oh my god,” I cried squeezing my eyes shut.
“Asher won’t say anything.” Cameron finally withdrew his fingers and backed away. My eyes fluttered open and settled on him, but he looked right through me.
My stomach sank as I fumbled with my jean button. “I should go,” I choked out, willing him to say something.
“Hailee, I’m sorry. It’s just—”
It wasn’t the words I wanted to hear, so I cut him off. “Yeah, me too,” I whispered.
And then without looking back, I ran out of there.
“Where the hell have you been?” Flick hurried over to me, sliding her arm through mine. “You’ve been gone like thirty minutes.”
Is that all it was? It felt like I’d been with Cameron for longer. Time had ceased to exist in Coach Hasson’s trophy room. But I’d come crashing back down to Earth with a resounding thud when Asher stumbled in on us.
He’d seen us.
God, what a mess.
I believed Cameron when he said Asher wouldn’t say anything, but it didn’t make the fact he knew any easier.
“Are you okay? You look... I don’t know, flushed.”
Which, of course, only made me flush harder.
“I’m fine, I just ran into Cameron.”
“Oooh.” Her eyes danced with excitement. “And...”
“And what?” I frowned.
“And what did the two of you talk about?”
“Nothing important.” I shrugged, guilt washing over me.
She gave me a strange look. “You’re hiding something, Hailee Raine.” Flick leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “Did you drag him off to the bathroom and kiss him again?”
Something like that. “Seriously?” I schooled my expression. “We’re at Coach Hasson’s home surrounded by the whole team, not to mention their families.” Although now I came to think about it, I hadn’t seen Cameron with his parents. I’d heard Jason say they never came around to his games anymore, since his mom had his little brother a few years ago.
“Yeah, I guess that could be awkward if Jason or your mom walked in.” She smothered a snicker. “But you’re going to have to get used to being around each other if you’re doing the Seniors Night project, right?”
Right.
I silently groaned, wondering if I’d made a terrible mistake agreeing to this project.
“I know that look.” Flick guided us back outside to the huge yard.
“What look?” I humored her.
“You’re falling for him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” A strangled laugh escaped my lips, but I wasn’t laughing on the inside. Because she couldn’t be right.
I couldn’t actually be falling for Cameron Chase.
Could I?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cameron
“You have a visitor,” Asher whispered as we jogged onto the field. My eyes followed his finger only to find Hailee sitting alone in the bleachers.
“She must be making a start on her art project.”
“Art project, right,” he drawled. “Is that what we’re calling it? Because if the project includes getting up close and personal with her like I saw the two of you in Coach’s trophy room on Friday night, then sign me—”
“Seriously, you need to stop talking,” I ground out, searching the field for Jase. Asher noticed and smothered a laugh.
“Don’t sweat it, he’s working with Coach on some new plays.”
I levelled him with a hard look, but it only fueled his curiosity. “So, what’s the deal? Since when does looking out for her involve having your fingers buried deep in—”
“Ash, I swear to God if you—”
“Jeez.” His hands flew up. “Joke, I’m joking. But I’m starting to think this thing with her isn’t a game. You like her.”
“I don’t...”
He gave me a pointed look. “Oh fuck, you do, you totally like her. Jase is going to—”
“Never find out about this, you hear me? It was a mistake.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, man.” Asher clapped me on the back. “Just be careful. That chick is crazy. And this thing with her, Jase, and Thatcher is only going to get worse before it gets better.”
Which is exactly what I was worried about.
We’d all expected Thatcher to make a move during Rivals Week but there had been nothing but crickets. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t hit back though, it just meant he was biding his time. Waiting to strike.
“Chase, Bennet, get your asses over here, ladies, we’ve got drills to run,” one of the assistant coaches yelled. With a final glance at the bleachers and Hailee, I stuffed down all the thoughts running through my head and focused on the task at hand. Kicking some defense ass.
After a grueling practice, I hung back while the rest of the guys stalked into the locker room. Coach was busy talking to Hailee. She had a sketch pad in her hands and a smile plastered on her face as she showed him whatever it was she’d been working on.
“Chase, come over here, Son,” his voice boomed across the field and I tore my helmet off and jogged over to them. “What’s up, Coach?” My eyes grazed Hailee’s face as I swept a hand through my damp hair, but she kept her gaze firmly on the pad in her hand.
“Can you show Miss Raine to the storage room? She wants to dig through some of the old picture albums for…” He glanced at her and she smiled.
“Inspiration.”
“Inspiration, right.” Coach pressed his lips together. “Can I trust you to show her?”
“Of course, Sir.”
“And if you need anything else, just ask.” He gave her a stern nod and left us alone.
“Hey.” I gave her a smile. “How are you?”
“I’m okay, thanks.” Her eyes darted around mine.
“Listen, I wanted to talk to you, after the other n—”
“Let’s not do this,” Hailee said, clutching the sketch pad to her chest like a shield. As if she needed armor against me. The thought punched me square in the chest. “I need to concentrate on this project if I want to get it done in time and I can’t afford any… distractions.”
“Is that what I am?” The corner of my mouth tipped. Being a distraction to her sounded like something I could get on board with.
“Cameron, I’m serious.” She gave me a narrowed look, but I was sure I caught a sparkle in her eyes.
“No distractions.” I held up my hands. “I promise. Come on, I’ll show you where the storage room is, but I should probably warn you, it smells like years old cleats in there.” Her nose wrinkled, and I chuckled. “Did you think painting the team would be all glamorous and shit?”
“I don’t know what I thought.” She was still clutching that shield of hers. “To be honest, I’m feeling a little out of my league here.”
“Let me see what you have.”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” Her fingers gripped the pad tighter. “It’s only a rough sketch at the moment. I wanted to catch you in action.” A sexy blush spread up her neck and into her cheeks and I didn’t miss the way she almost choked over the word ‘action’. “I’m thinking of doing a less traditional composition, something that captures the essence of the sport rather than just the player.”
“Sounds… complicated.” I had no fucking clue about art and compositions or any of that stuff.
“It isn’t, not really. But I ne
ed enough raw material to work with.”
“So, can I…” I held out my hand, hoping she would indulge me. Hailee peeked up at me with wary eyes, her fingers gently tapping the sketch pad. Awkward silence stretched out before us.
“It’s okay,” I started after what felt like an eternity. “You don’t have to—” With a soft sigh, Hailee finally handed the pad over to me and I flipped it open.
“Holy shit, Hailee, this is amazing.” She’d captured Grady, one of the other senior players, mid-drill, throwing his body against the blocking sled. It was only rough, but the lines and shadowing caught the impact in a way I would never have thought possible. “You’re really talented.” I started to flip to another page, but she grabbed the pad.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
“Hang on, I want to see more.” I wrestled it off her, holding it just out of reach, and turned another page. My mouth fell open, the air sucked clean from my lungs.
“Like I said,” her voice was small, uncertain, “It’s just a rough sketch at the moment. Something to work with once I’m in the studio.”
My eyes drank in every detail. The curve of my arm as I prepared to throw the ball, my wide stance and narrowed gaze as I sought out my teammate across the field. The intricate shading around the fourteen on my jersey, giving the illusion of the material moving with the air.
“Cameron?” Her voice was quiet, but it reverberated all the way down to my soul.
“Y- yeah, sorry.” I closed the sketch pad and handed back to her.
“The final thing will be much better.” Hailee tucked her hair behind her ear.
I knew I should probably say something, but I was speechless. “Come on,” I managed to choke out, and we walked the rest of the way in thick silence.
It wasn’t that I wanted her to think I didn’t like the sketch, I did. I liked it a whole lot, but it had done something to me. She had done something to me.
And I didn’t know how to undo it—if I even wanted to.
“Okay, this is it,” I said, shouldering the door to the storage room. Hailee’s eyes fell on the dusty boxes.
“There’s a lot of stuff here.”
“Yup. Coach is kind of a hoarder. Good luck with that.” I offered her a smile, but she didn’t return it.
Shit, I was being a dick. “So, Homecoming is this week.” I tried to change tack. “Do you have a date?”
“A date?” The words got stuck in her throat.
“Yeah, you know, a guy asks you out, you dress up all pretty and he brings you flowers, and you pose for awkward photos.” Stop. Talking. Asshole.
“Isn’t that Prom?”
“Same thing.” I shrugged suddenly feeling like a complete idiot. “So do you? Have one, I mean?” Why was I pushing this? I didn’t want to hear about Hailee and her date.
“I do actually.”
She did?
Fuck.
“Flick.” Hailee frowned, watching me with a strange expression. “I’m going with Flick.”
“Oh right.” Relief flooded me, easing the tightness in my chest. “That’s… nice.” Nice?
“Are you okay, you’re acting a little strange?”
“Me? I’m fine.” I shrugged, backing up, but I hit the corner of a stack of boxes. “Shit.” My hands shot out and I managed to steady them. When I looked back at Hailee, she was fighting a smile.
“So, I should, uh, go. I should go.” What the fuck was wrong with me?
It was the damn sketch. It had voodoo powers or something because I felt all off-balance.
“Okay.” She watched, her expression a lot more playful than it was five minutes ago.
“See you around?” My voice went up at the end making it sound like a question and I wanted nothing more than to bang my head against the wall. But before Hailee concluded I was completely certifiable, I gave her a little salute and got the hell out of there.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hailee
“Are you sure about this?” I took a deep breath, running my hands down the pale-silver, fit and flare dress Flick had insisted I wear. It was the first one I’d tried on and she had leaped off the bed, shrieking with delight, declaring it ‘the one’. But even now, in my kitten heels and subtle makeup, I wasn’t sure.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” I said, clutching my stomach as we approached the gym.
“Hails.” Flick whirled around, the layers of her own dress fanning out like a cascading waterfall. “You’ve got this. It isn’t ninth grade. You’re not going to walk in there and be the laughing stock of the school. It’s senior year. We’re seniors and we deserve this. Okay?” She gave me a warm smile.
“Okay,” I replied despite my mind screaming, ‘no, no, no’.
“Although it would’ve been a helluva lot more fun if we had dates,” she added, and I elbowed her in the ribs. “I’m your date.”
“I know, and honestly, I wouldn’t want it any other way, Sista.” She grinned at me. “Now what do you say, we go in there with our heads held high and have some fun?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to ditch and hang out with Jude and Toby instead?” I knew he’d been texting her. Toby had sent me a few texts here and there too, only I got the impression he was a little wary now he knew who my step-brother was. But it was probably for the best. Toby was nice, and we’d hit it off, but he didn’t set off a legion of butterflies in my stomach. He wasn’t the guy consuming my every thought.
My body thrummed with nervous energy at the idea of seeing Cameron. All week we’d danced around one another; watching each other across the cafeteria, sitting close but not touching in history, and there had been another moment, Wednesday after practice, when I’d caught him looking at my mouth. Whatever this thing between us was, it was building. Growing into something more with every passing day. I knew it was dangerous getting tangled up with him; he was Jason’s best friend. And I wasn’t naïve enough to think he would ever be okay with me and Cameron. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself either. I craved him. Craved the way he made me feel. The thrill of getting caught.
It was official, I was completely head over heels in lust with Cameron Chase. And he was in there, no doubt looking more drool-worthy than ever. He’d joked more than once about me saving him a dance. Granted, we probably wouldn’t be able to have said dance because of my asshole brother, but just knowing he wanted to dance with me was enough.
Wasn’t it?
Flick grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the door. With every step the beat of the music inside mirrored my own heartbeat. Boom. Boom. Ba-boom. “You’re nervous.” She observed.
“No, I’m not. I’m just pissed you had me wear this dress.”
“The dress looks hot, just like your hair and makeup. Now stop worrying. It’s a dance. It’s supposed to be fun.”
Fun, right.
I could totally do fun.
But as we stepped inside, I was fourteen all over again, watching my date kiss another girl. Except Cameron wasn’t kissing the girl he was talking to. But they did look pretty close; her hand on his arm as she smiled up at whatever he was saying. Flick noticed and yanked me in the other direction, an amused smile playing on her lips.
We found the bar—really, it was just a long table and Mr. Henderson dressed up in a tux making some funky looking drinks—and ordered two mocktails, and then went to sit at an empty table on the fringe of the dance floor. Khloe Stemson and the rest of the bitch squad were draped over their dates like cheap throws, but there wasn’t a football player in sight between them.
“I guess they’re still on the outs with Jason and the team.” Flick mused, sipping her liquor-less mojito.
“And the gym team are still in.” I flicked my head over to where Jason had Jenna Jarvis pressed up against the wall, attacking her neck with his mouth.
“She’s a skank,” Flick said coolly.
“Now who sounds jealous?”
“I mean just look at her. She knows he won’t c
ommit, and yet she still throws herself at him at every opportunity.”
“Maybe it’s just sex.”
“Yeah right. Girls don’t have just sex. They tell themselves that to make themselves feel better. But sex for girls comes with feelings. It’s simple biology.”
“Hmm.” I held up a finger. “I had sex without feelings.”
“That’s different.” She screwed up her face. “You’re wired different.”
“Hey.” I swatted her arm. “I could have easily caught feelings for Austin, but after the sex, I realized it wasn’t something I was in any hurry to do again.” I flashed her a playful grin and her sullen expression slipped.
“Was it really that bad?”
“It wasn’t good, that’s for sure.”
“So, why’d you do it?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to get it over with. And Austin had seemed nice at the time. It was so long ago, I’m probably revirginized.”
Flick laughed at that. “We’re a disaster. You’re throwing Cameron death stares because he’s talking to a girl, and I’m sitting here talking about sex when I have barely made it to third base with a guy.” She groaned, dropping her head on the table.
“Come on, it’s not all bad. Maybe you and Jude will...”
“Ladies, you came.” Asher Bennet loomed down over me, a wicked glint in his eye. “And you both look smokin’.”
“Smokin’, really?” I scrunched my nose up. It was a miracle anyone fell for his charm, or lack thereof. Although not even I could deny he looked good in his charcoal dress slacks and crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his dark blond hair mussed up in his typical laid-back Asher Bennet way. “That’s the best you can do?”
“As prickly as ever I see, Raine.”
Flick peeked out from the table, gaping up at him. A slow grin spread over his face. “Me and you, Giles, let’s go.”