Cameron (Wild Men Book 7)

by Melissa Belle

  Yet, I never looked twice at any of them. Not one guy did it for me.

  Until now.

  With his muscular shoulders and arms on full display, Cam keeps going with the strip tease. He takes off his shoulder pads and his chest protector, and then pulls off his t-shirt.

  I squeeze my thighs together and grit my teeth hard. If I was hot for Cam before, I’m about to burst into flames now.

  Sweaty, bare-chested, and with a perfectly messy head of dark hair, Cam could grace the cover of any magazine and he’d sell out the racks. His chest is nearly hairless with pecs that demand you look at them. He grins at me, seemingly impervious to the cold.

  And I may be naïve and inexperienced, but I know I’m not mistaking the fact that Cameron Wild wants me looking at him. Brazen and cheeky, he’s the polar opposite to me and my shy demeanor. Craig calls out goodbye and dismisses the team, and everyone starts to leave the rink. Meanwhile, Cam’s dark eyes shine with mischief as he skates over to me. He leans over the boards and cocks an eyebrow.

  “Hey, Ms. McMann. Aren’t you supposed to be joining me on the ice right about now?”

  I draw closer to Eric without planning on it. “Um, Eric and I were still going over formations for this week’s game.”

  Completely clueless to the way Cam is smirking at me, Eric waves his hand. “Vannah, go ahead and work with the new guy. I’ve got to get home anyway. Anna’s about to pop.”

  “I thought she wasn’t due for a month.”

  “She’s not. Doesn’t change the fact that this baby’s a load.”

  He stands up and follows the rest of the team out of the arena.

  The door bangs shut behind him, and Cam and I are alone.

  I stand up, forcing myself to ignore my shaking legs. I open the swing door and step onto the ice, striding past Cam like he’s not changing every molecule in the arena with his presence.

  “Okay.” I grab a stray hockey stick and pretend to take a shot. “Your shot’s on point. What do you want to improve upon this season?”

  “I finally get to see you with a stick in your hand,” he teases me.

  I laugh. “I guess you do.”

  Still half-naked, Cam skates over until he’s close enough to touch. The air between us thickens so much I think I’m going to lose my mind.

  Without thinking about it, I reach out and put my hand on his bare chest. He audibly sucks in his breath, and I can feel his heart racing beneath my hot palm. His dark eyes fix on me like I’m the most fascinating creature he’s ever seen. He looks at me like—like I matter. Like this electric current between us matters.

  But his mouth is teasing and filled with fun. His expression seems to waffle between flirting and joking. And he’s a player. Probably in more ways than one.

  My life is logical and safe. My world is a glass box with a hamster wheel inside where I run and run in place until I exhaust myself. It has no room in it for someone as complicated and confusing as Cameron Wild.

  Fighting for control, I curl my hand into a fist and let go of him.

  “Put a shirt on, please.” I walk over to the boards and grab his t-shirt. “I don’t want you getting pneumonia.”

  His eyes tell me he knows exactly why I’m making this demand, but he complies.

  And while Cam’s blinding beauty is now somewhat hidden by clothing, my pulse has gone haywire.

  “I think we should skip the on-ice initiation and go straight to the coffee shop,” I say in a strained tone. “I’ll run over the team handbook with you. Some of the rules are important—” Like the one where I’m not allowed to date a player, for example. “—so I’ll meet you in my office in say, twenty minutes, and we can walk over together. Is that enough time for you to shower?”

  He takes the stick out of my hand gently and gives me a wink. “Plenty. I’ll see you then.”

  Cameron

  I’m an asshole. I literally can’t stop teasing Savannah. From the moment I met her, I’ve wanted her attention. For as long as she’ll give it to me.

  And yes, I already know what’s going to be in the handbook. Don’t date a player. It was written all over her face.

  I’ve never been one for rules, though. Savannah may think throwing the rulebook at me will change things between us, but she’s wrong. A formal restriction can’t change the nuclear connection we have. Not possible.

  Savannah’s tough; men I’ve played with wouldn’t have been able to handle what happened this morning as well as she did. But her beautiful eyes have a darkness hidden in their depths, almost like she’s been broken down one too many times. She has a fragile side, and I have to be careful with her. I’m afraid I’ll hurt her, and that’s the last thing I want to do.

  She’s like the calm in a storm for me—something about her soothes the demons inside of me, the ones that urge me to rebel against each and every thing my father tells me to do. Rebelling never works. I know that. But following his commands hasn’t gotten me anywhere, either. Although it did get me to meet Savannah Virginia.

  Working with her every day is something I’m very much looking forward to. She doesn’t let people in easily, and despite what she says, she’s definitely got a feisty side. I thought she was going to punch Craig in the face when he signed me up for that upcoming conference with her. I respect her desire to go alone, but I can’t say I’m sorry he insisted on us attending together. Christ, I enjoyed being with her on the ice far more than I’ve enjoyed anything in ages.

  I smile to myself as I head for the locker room. Something tells me getting to know Savannah Virginia will be every bit worth the challenge.

  Chapter Five

  Three Weeks Later

  Savannah

  Bang!!

  The pounding on the door comes so fast and loud I drop the ice skate I just sharpened, and it clatters to the ground. I’m always jumpy, but I’ve been worse than usual. I make sure never to walk down the alley alone anymore, which means I have to drive to get my breakfast. Mama was so worried she didn’t want me to ever return to the coffee shop, so promising her I’d drive was a small concession. Although after that scare, I prefer to be inside the car too.

  Bang!!

  I go open the door.

  Coach Craig is standing there glaring at me. His jacket is zipped up to his chin, and he unwraps a huge black scarf from where it was protecting his overly-pale skin from the biting Minnesota wind.

  He leans his heavy frame against the door as he catches his breath. “I just had to walk all the way down here to find you. Where are my skates?”

  I hand him the two pairs of skates, newly-sharpened blades and all.

  “Here you go.”

  Craig’s balding head shines under the glare of the single light in the room.

  “You doing something else in here besides sharpening hockey skates?” he asks as he scans the room.

  “Nope,” I say, shifting quickly to hide my iPad that has a belly dance lesson up on the screen. “Just making sure your blades are super sharp.”

  “I want you at practice today,” he says. “I know you prefer to hide in your office, but you haven’t been there in a few days. And I need your eye on Wild.”

  I tense. “Why Cameron?”

  “Because you and I both know he’s the key to this team’s success. And he’s shown flashes of pure brilliance these last few weeks, enough that our tickets are selling better and we’ve finally started winning.” Craig frowns. “But we need more from him. The kid just won’t live up to his potential. See if you can figure out why.”

  He turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

  I shut down my browser, making a note to return to my dance lesson later.

  After my father left, I spent weeks at work, mindlessly surfing the Internet. One day, I was clicking through videos, and I found something that interested me. A belly dance performance by a troupe of women.

  The ladies wore the most beautiful costumes, and they ranged in age from late twenties to late sixties
. They moved their bodies in ways I had never seen, had no shame no matter their shape or size, and they clearly enjoyed dancing. They loved it.

  Immediately, I wanted to do that. The dancers I was watching weren’t local; they were in Missoula, Montana. But after some research, I found a dance studio in town where I could take lessons. For the past few years, those classes have saved me.

  Dancing has become a way to release my pain, and to find a piece of myself I never realized was lost. My identity was simply as my father’s assistant in whatever ways he needed. But dancing—that’s just for me. For ninety minutes of class, I feel free, and I can be myself.

  I stuff the iPad in my bag and then hustle down the hall to my office.

  And I come to a halt.

  Cam’s standing by my door. He stops by frequently to chat. And it’s been…nice. Really nice.

  Today, his yellow dress shirt shows off the gold in his dark eyes, and his suit jacket is slung casually over his shoulder. His beautiful black hair is nicely combed, not like when he pulls off his hockey helmet and his hair’s a wild mess. I like him both ways; I literally couldn’t choose which Cam makes me drool more. And that neatly-trimmed facial hair of his is my undoing.

  Cameron Wild is easily the best part of my day. I hang on his amazing smile and his gorgeous eyes, kind eyes that I fantasize can see through to my soul and heal the pain I hide from everyone.

  He’s proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m not asexual as I’d feared. Nope, not at all—ever since I met him, I’ve been on fire for this man I only met a few weeks ago. I was drawn to him then; now, I think I may love him. I sound like the inexperienced girl that I am when I say that.

  But it’s not just because he’s so hot that I have to fan myself after talking to him despite the fact that we’re in the middle of a Minnesota winter. The other, even bigger reason why I like Cam so much, is because he’s a good person. He’s compassionate, funny, and warm. We get along; in fact, we’re slowly becoming friends. I’ve never had a player for a friend before.

  Cam’s arrival has brought color to my work days. I nearly always wear black to work, but last week, I bought an emerald-colored shirt and decided to wear it to the office. Cam said it brought out my eyes, and I blushed furiously and then ran off. Not much has changed in that department; whenever Cam flirts, I freak.

  I think we’d fit together—I’m about five foot six and he’s six foot one, which feels like it would be the perfect height. I know all his measurements from the team media guide I edited and then memorized. His midnight hair and eyes match perfectly with his olive skin tone and, in my opinion, with my green eyes and pale skin, but that’s not something that’s in the guide.

  I haven’t flirted with him, though. I can’t. I know the team handbook technically makes flirting illegal. But that’s just a good excuse. The bigger reason is that I’m too chickenshit to try. Cam’s my friend now. My gorgeous, cocky, devilish friend who could have any woman in Climax. So what could he ever see in me?

  “Hey, Savannah.” Cam’s eyes latch onto mine as I reach him. “How are you?”

  “I’m good.” My cheeks heat, and I end up dropping my bag as I reach inside my coat pocket for the office keys. I laugh awkwardly. “I’m a klutz, for sure. You should know that by now. I drop things on a daily basis.”

  “You’re just carrying too much is all.” He searches my face. “You okay?”

  I nod quickly. Too quickly. “Yes.”

  Cam bends to pick up my bag for me.

  He stands up straight again and our eyes clash. He keeps his gaze fastened on mine and I can’t look away from him. I mention my usual fallback line about the weather and how it’s supposed to stay below freezing for the next ten days.

  I finally get my office door unlocked and then I take my bag back from Cam and hurry inside my office. Cam follows behind me.

  His lips twitch when he glances at the two hockey sticks propped against the wall.

  I smile. Ever since our first meeting involved a conversation about me carrying a stick, Cam chuckles whenever he sees the hockey sticks in my office. I’ve never told him why they’re actually there, that they were my father’s two favorites sticks, and he just left them when he walked out.

  And the idea of me as a bad-ass is laughable, but Cam seems to genuinely believe I have that side, and that’s refreshing.

  “Let’s go to Lovelake tonight after practice,” he says.

  He’s asked me this before, and I always say the same thing.

  “I can’t.” I fight a smile and turn away shyly.

  “Why not?” He reaches out and catches my arm, stopping me from walking to my desk.

  “It’s…” I pause and curse my heated cheeks. “We can’t hang out like that.”

  “We hang out at the coffee shop,” he points out.

  I take off my coat and lay it on the couch. “It’s in the handbook. No fraternizing. Coffee after work doesn’t count. It’s pretty clear,” I add with an uneasy laugh. “I filled you in on the team rules that first day. Remember?”

  “Right.” Cam’s mouth lifts at the corners. “No fraternizing. So we’ll get coffee then, just not next door. Consider it a business meeting.”

  “Maybe some other time.” I fiddle with the office keys still in my hand, willing myself not to ogle Cam’s body.

  He gestures toward my desk of organized clutter, at the papers piled high on the shelf behind, and at the twenty-year-old couch. “You need a break.”

  I pull at the bottom of my black sweater. “Maybe, but I need to make a living.”

  “And I need you to go somewhere with me later,” he says with a sexy grin. “It will only take a couple of hours.”

  I compromise by promising to go with him someday, somehow. To the tiny dot on the map that Cam Wild claims I’ll love. When I ask him why, he just tugs my ponytail and says I have to go there with him to find out.

  “But for now, you’d better get to practice,” I say. “You don’t want to be late for Coach Craig. I’ll see you there in a few.”

  He hesitates but then his cell phone rings, and I can tell by the frustrated look on his face it’s Amy. Cam insists she’s his ex and that she just won’t let go, but I’m fully prepared for them to get back together at some point. High school sweethearts sounds like the kind of thing that doesn’t ever end for good.

  Cameron

  With my eyes trained on Savannah’s curvy ass as she makes her way to her desk, I back out of her office with the phone pressed to my ear.

  “Why are you calling?” I ask Amy, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. Her calling me is bad enough; her interrupting my time with Savannah is worse.

  “Do I need a reason now?” she asks in her typical whiny voice.

  I blow out a breath. “Yes, you need a reason. We’ve been broken up for a year and a half.”

  She sighs. “Fine. I called to get your advice. On a guy I’m interested in.”

  I should be relieved that she’s finally moving on, but the very fact that she’s calling me about this new guy has me on edge. If she were really moving forward, I should be the last person she wants to talk to.

  My phone beeps. Thank Christ.

  “I’ve got to take this call,” I tell Amy. “Ask your sister for advice. Or your girlfriends. Leave me out of it.”

  “You’re no fun anymore,” she grumbles.

  She used to complain that all I did was have fun.

  I tell her good-bye and click over.

  “Bray,” I say. “How’s Leleila?”

  I head down the hallway toward the lockers. I’ve got a few minutes before I have to get ready for practice.

  “We’ve been together four months now,” he says. “Are you going to ask me that every time we talk?”

  “Yep. Because I know it pisses you off. And at the same time, you want to tell me how good things are between you two. So I’m just giving you the opening.”

  My cousin, Brayden, and I were the only tw
o single guys left out of the six of us. Five Wild cousins, including me, and Jenson, our close friend. Colton and Dylan married first, and we all just went to Jenson and Olivia’s wedding on New Year’s Eve. Ayden and Bella are getting married in the spring, and I have no doubt Brayden and Leleila will be joining them soon. Leleila’s ex made her want to wait on marriage for a while, but I see the way she looks at Brayden. They’re in it for the long haul.

  So now the list of single guys is down to just me.

  A fact they all like to remind me of.

  “We’re having a guys’ night next week,” Brayden says into the phone.

  “Oh, yeah?” I say, a pang of frustration hitting me that I can’t join them. “Dyl and Colt are coming up to Montana?”

  “They are,” he says. “Jasalie and Sky are going to hang with Leleila, and us three guys are going to fly to Minneapolis.”

  “What?” I start. “Why?”

  “Cam.” Brayden speaks patiently. “We know you’re pissed off about having to play for a new team. But you’ve been with them for a month now, and we haven’t had a chance to see you play. Football season’s over, and Colt and Dyl have nothing going on. We don’t have to come to a game if you don’t want—we can just meet you afterward. But we’re coming regardless. Dyl has the plane booked already.”

  My irritation disappears.

  I don’t want the guys coming to watch me play hockey for “the new team,” as my cousins call the Climax Cannons. Hockey isn’t my passion the way football is for Colton and Dylan, and I don’t need any cheering fans. My cousins mean well—the best, really—and they know my true feelings about hockey, but they always think coming to watch me play will help somehow. Maybe they just think I can use the support.

  “Sure,” I get out. “Sounds good, Bray. You’re on target with my schedule—we’ve got a home game next week. You’ll all stay at my house?”

  He chuckles. “Yeah. Good thing it’s just the three of us, or we might not all fit in one of our houses anymore. Our group is getting unruly.”