Well, this was unexpected.
All I wanted was a photograph I could post online and as a bonus, I got a hard-on.
Hey, I’m not complaining.
Chapter 15
Valerie
When I walked into Sportscast’s building, I still had a few minutes before my shift. So, I searched for the nearest bathroom, go inside, and lock myself in a stall. While sitting on a seat, I let out the breath I had been holding this entire time.
My head was still spinning from the kiss, heart pounding.
What was that about?
I touched my lips. They felt hot to the touch. When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel the feathery embrace of his lips on mine. I craved more of it. I wanted to feel his arms wrapped around me. Tight. Keeping me safe.
My pulse quickens as I think back to a few nights ago when Cam got himself drunk. That night, he had apologized to me.
“I feel awful about what I did, I really do. I treated you like crap, Val,” he admitted. “I never should have done that.” He paused, running his fingers through his hair. “My career started to affect us. We both knew it would be a lot of hard work. Becoming a pro player wasn’t easy. It’s not the average nine-to-five job,” he said with a chuckle. “To become a professional athlete, you need to dedicate your whole life to the sport.”
I sipped my drink not quite sure what to say. He was starting to sound more and more like the Camden I had broken up with, the one who was blind to the world. A part of me wanted to lash out at him but at the same time, the past was the past, and there’s no point getting upset about it.
“My obsession with my goal, my football goal, lead us into spending a lot of time apart. I’ll admit, I worried about it.” He sighed, frowning as he looked down at his drink as if all the answers to his problems could be found there. “It was high school romance time. All of your girlfriends were spending time with their boyfriends while you were home alone because I was the boyfriend who kept traveling from place to place.” He fiddled with the coaster underneath his drink. “It was really bothering me that I was not there to love you the way I wanted to…”
I was this close to stopping him. I had heard it all before. The regrets. The apologies. Words that meant nothing. After all, actions speak louder than words and, as far as I’m concerned, Camden was never around to do anything.
“I wanted to give you the world. But, first, I needed to conquer the world.” He took a sip of his drink, nearly downing half of it. “I could see it in your eyes that you wanted me to spend more time with you, like any normal teenage relationship. You know, going to movies together, lying in the front of my car, watching the stars. You know, all the normal things that high school couples do together.” He reached forward like he was about to touch me, but I pulled away. “And, trust me, I wanted to spend time with you too, but at the same time, I was not only practicing with my team, I did a lot of practice on my own, too. I dedicated my life to football, becoming the best player I could be.”
“And, whenever we did spend time together, it meant you had some sort of injury again,” I spoke up, interrupting his monologue. “I was always worried sick that one day you’d come home with some serious injury. I hated it.”
“I know,” he said, looking away, avoiding eye contact. “I know. I’m not going to sit here and say it was easy for you, because, I know, it wasn’t. I didn’t know how many times you had been to the ER with me—knee surgery, broken ankle, torn muscle—the list goes on.” He counted them off on his fingers. “But, every time I woke up from the anesthesia, I always saw you sitting next to me, crying. It was like a dagger through my heart every time. It hurt me.”
I ground my teeth to keep back the tears. Even now, imagining him on a hospital bed made me tense with emotion. Deep down, I still loved Cam. I cared about him. And the last thing I wanted was to see him get hurt. “Yet, once the doctor gave you clearance, you’d go right back to training and sports traveling. Sometimes, you wouldn’t even say goodbye.”
“I know.” He shook his head. “You kept telling me that I was being too hard on myself. You know, I hate it when someone tells me that. I don’t know why but that word pisses me off.”
“You were too hard on yourself.” I countered.
“I know, but in my mind, I always felt like I could push myself a little harder. That’s part of the problem. Because while I was traveling, there was always some fan girl throwing herself at me…”
I tensed, jealousy bubbling through my veins. I really didn’t want to hear this. “Cam—”
“No, please. Let me explain myself.” He straightened his posture and rolled back his shoulders. “Some of them would write their number on my hand. ‘Call me and you won’t regret it.’ And I’d have to politely tell them that I had a girlfriend. Then, after practice, I’d take a shower and continue on my own, privately. But, when you called and asked me where I was, you never believed me. I’d tell you that I was practicing by myself and you always had that tone of ‘yeah, really…’ But, the team finally started to win back to back and I thought my practice sessions had something to do with it, so I couldn’t give them up, even if it drove you away.
“What was I supposed to think? You were gone all the time. Doubts started to fester,” I said, running my finger along the edge of my glass. “It would have been easy for you to sneak off with any number of girls while I was home alone.”
“But, that was never the case. All those other girls paled in comparison, Val. And since the team kept winning, our schedule was never consistent, and I was away from home all the time. We were required to travel all over the world to compete in sporting events. Weekends. National Holidays. I was spending less and less time with you. At one point, you were alone on Valentine’s day, your birthday…”
“Oh, I remember.” I spat, remembering the long nights, crying in my bed.
“Two years of dating like that. I was struggling with the fact that I wasn’t loving you enough, that we weren’t spending enough time together, that I was never there when your parents invited me to dinner, but I couldn’t help it, there was constant unplanned sport traveling.”
“That’s what you said, anyway,” I said, old jealousy rearing its ugly head.
“It’s true.” He insisted. “I never did anything behind your back.”
I looked into his eyes, finding them full of sincerity. Was he telling the truth? I honestly didn’t know anymore.
“I was struggling with the guilt of not being the boyfriend I wanted to be.” He finished his drink and ordered another. “And, when we did find time to spend together, it wasn’t for very long. Sometimes, only 30 minutes.”
I sighed. “You know, I both loved and hated those days when I got to see you. I was happy, so happy, because I wanted to hug you and kiss you for as long as I could. But, at the same time, I was never sure when I would see you again. It could be days, weeks, or, unfortunately, even months. Do you know how hard it was to wait that long?” I squeezed my hand into a fist. “I’d stand at my window, just waiting for you. I’d sleep with my phone on my chest, hoping for a call…”
“And, do you know how hard it was for me to pull away? I needed to go back but you always held my hand so tight, refusing to let go. It broke my heart whenever I had to whisper, ‘I have practice…’ That look on your face, I could barely stand it.”
“And yet, you always left.” I shook my head. “I’m sure you could have skipped practice a few times.”
“Maybe, but I was obsessed.”
“If I had a dime for every time I heard you say that, I would be rich. Hell, I could pay off my whole student loan with all those dimes. And still have some left over.” I slapped my hand on the table, getting irritated by this conversation. He was just spewing out the same old excuses from before. “Practice always came before everything else.”
“It did.” He admitted. “Including you, unfortunately.”
“If I wanted to go see a movie, you’d say, ‘I have practice.�
�� If my parents were coming into town for the night and I wanted you to spend some time with them, you’d say, ‘I have practice.’ If I wanted to go get ice cream after practice you’d tell me that the coach had magically scheduled practice after practice like he just wanted to ruin my day. ‘I have practice.’ Practice, practice, practice.” I mimicked. “That’s all you would ever say to me.”
“And then, one day, you gave up on me,” he said, voice low. “And you sent me that email…”
“You wouldn’t pick up your phone,” I said. “How else was I supposed to reach you?”
“You know, I came to your house. I climbed your window. I saw you crying on the bed, hugging the teddy bear that I gave you. I wanted to comfort you so damn bad. But, I just stood there, looking at you. And then, I thought that maybe your life would be better off without me.” He looked into my eyes. “All I was doing was causing you pain. A lot of pain.”
“It rained that day, you must have gotten soaked,” I said, remembering the sound of the raindrops pelting against my window pane. I had no idea he had climbed up to my window, that he was watching me. Had I known, I would had dragged him into my room and given him a piece of my mind.
“I did. The weather matched my inner weather that day…”
I could tell the alcohol was getting to his head. He always said cheesy things like that when he was getting drunk.
“It’s just, everything was happening all at once and the stress was really getting to me. I didn’t know what to do and I guess I just lashed out at you. I’m sorry. I should never have let my football career get in the way of our relationship. I messed up. I know I did. But, there’s not much I can do about it now.” He kept going on and on, looking at me with those big puppy dog eyes.
It pained my heart to listen to him, both because I knew there was probably some truth to what he said but also, as I sat there, I relived the past trauma in my head. The fights. The lonely nights waiting for him to come home only to find he had drunk himself to a stupor at the bar. The silence. That was the worst part. Some days, he acted as if I didn’t even exist. That’s what hurt the most.
“Camden—”
He shook his head. “Please, I need to get this off my chest.” He grabbed his shot glass and downed another drink.
“Don’t you think you should slow down?” I suggested but, of course, he didn’t listen to me. He just ordered himself another drink. He never listened to me.
“Nah, baby, I’m fine.” He hiccupped before reaching across the table and taking my hands in his. “But, really, I was a mess. Completely lost during my first years as a pro-athlete. You have no idea how hard it was. One second, you’re a big fish in a little pond, and then suddenly you’re a little fish in a big pond.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I really wish I knew how to deal with things a bit better.”
“You were pretty good at it when we were kids.” I pointed out, sipping my Cosmo.
“No, no. That was all you. You always kept me in line, Val. Whenever I was in trouble, you were always the one to bail me out.”
“You saved my ass a couple of times,” I said. “You remember the Roger twins?”
He looked into his drink for a few moments, trying to recall. “Oh, damn, yeah. Those assholes. They used to pick on you all the time.”
“All the time.” I agreed. “Until you came along.”
“I really didn’t do anything.”
“You got into a huge fight with Devin. I had to get my mom to drive you to the hospital. She was pissed because you got blood all over the back seat of her car.”
“Oh, right, I almost forgot about that.” He laughed. “Devin got it pretty good, didn’t he?”
“Devin and Kasey, both. You nearly bashed their heads in.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to let them insult you.”
“You might have taken it a little too far, though,” I said, tossing a fry in my mouth. “But, that’s usually what you do. You’re extreme with everything you do.”
He grinned. “Exactly.”
The waiter came over and took our food away.
“You know, Val, I really am sorry.”
“It’s okay…” I said, voice soft, eyes downcast, following the grain of wood along the tabletop.
There’s a silence that falls between us. It’s thick, almost suffocating.
I glanced over at him. It’s obvious he’s drunk but he’s starting to look more and more like my high school sweetheart, the man I used to love more than anything else.
“Do you remember that day when I got the offer to become a pro athlete?” He leaned forward, holding his drink between his palms, rolling it back and forth, beer sloshing about, threatening to spill.
“Of course—”
Before I could continue, he cut me off. “I called you and told you to meet me in our bar.” His voice dropped as he moved closer, his face inches away from mine. “You were the first person I wanted to tell about it…”
My cheeks felt hot to the touch. My heart was pounding. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and the faint smell of his cologne—same as ever—deep, rustic, like an antique shop with a hint of spice.
“I remember…” He dropped back into his chair and started rocking on the two hind legs, making me nervous. In his drunken state, it would be easy for him to lose his grip and crack his skull on the hardwood floor. “I called you to meet me at this bar…” He repeated. “And, I was waiting for you. And then, it was you walking into the bar wearing that dress.” He clapped his hands together, a wild grin on his face. “Oh, that dress was a killer. It fit you perfectly, and only you.”
I remembered the dress. I still owned it. Had it tucked away in my closet somewhere. Even after gaining a few pounds over the years, it still fit me like a glove.
“You know, that was the moment when I saw clearly what I wanted to do with my life.” He paused.
I felt myself lean forward, clinging to his every word.
“While you were walking toward me… I saw my whole life, the life I’ve always wanted. There, I become a pro athlete, dominating the football world. And every time I win, I dedicate that win to you. And, then one year, I hit my big dream—the Super Bowl. Of course, I’m proud of myself. But, you’re proud of me too.” He waved at the bar like it’s an audience. “The whole arena is going crazy. My team won the game—the Super Bowl—and I’m holding my trophy and screaming, ‘Val, this is for you!’ And here, cameras start pointing at you. I see your beautiful face on the big screen.” He pointed at the tiny TVs hanging from the walls.
I followed his gaze.
“You look so happy and that makes me happy! I’m successful because I succeeded in my mission to make you happy in every way possible! I spoiled you in every way possible. Made you feel like a princess, a queen, my queen.”
I looked over at Camden. Our eyes locked.
He reached over and took my hand in his. “But, there’s one more thing. When I win the Super Bowl, your belly was nice and round. I’m going to be a daddy! I can’t believe it! It’s been years, too many years, since we graduated college and went our separate ways. And yet, me and you, we managed to reach all of our goals. Somehow, in this dream life, we empower and support one another. Me and you…” He grabbed a fork and pointed to the two ends with his fingers. “… we’re like the batteries that charge each other even more. You wanted to become a great reporter. I wanted to become a pro football player.” He chuckled. “And looked at us now, we both reached our goals. Maybe I’m getting closer to that dream life with you where we could share that journey… together.”
Listening to him speak, made my heart ache. Deep down, I shared his dream. I wanted a life with this man. It’s all I ever wanted. But, I’ve since grown up. I know better than to fall for a man that might say all of these things one second and then abandon me another.
Camden finished his drink with a sigh.
But, then again, drunk words speak sober thoughts.
He burped before c
ontinuing. Apparently, he had a lot to say. I’ve never seen him open up this much. “We shared and lived through so many beautiful moments. Together, holding hands, we graduated college. We chased our careers. We reached our personal goals. We got engaged, married, a fairytale wedding, the wedding that was just the way you wanted, the way you dreamed of it. And we enjoyed some time together, just me and you, and then sometime later, one miraculous evening you told me you were having our baby. You took my hand just below your heart and told me a little baby was living there. And then we’re standing at the Super Bowl. I’d scream, ‘I love you, Val. I’m the luckiest man in the world because I could make you happy!’ And all lights are on us and our fairytale life.” He sighed. “But, I guess that’s just a dream, huh?”
“Cam…” I started, not quite sure what to say. His eyes were darkened by this failed dream.
Life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to. That’s just the harsh reality.
“I saw that dream of our life.” His voice was low, filled with sadness. “And, I whispered to myself that nothing would ever stop me from achieving that vision. I thought that the first step toward that life would be, becoming a pro player. And, I’ll admit, I became obsessed with it.”
“Cam… it’s getting late. Shouldn’t we—”
Again, he held up his hand, cutting me off. This was clearly something he needed to get off his chest. “You came to me and said, ‘What were you thinking?’ And I told you, ‘You will see what I’m thinking!’ And that was the moment when I became obsessed with becoming the best football player in history. The hall of fame would quake at the sound of my name!”
I cringed. This sort of obsession was exactly what drove me away. He could think of nothing else and at the end of the day, I was the one neglected and forgotten. I could try and tell him as much but even now, he wouldn’t let me get in a word edgewise. Typical.
“If I want something, I become obsessed with it. If I want something, nothing will ever stop me. I don’t ever do anything half-ass. But, if I knew, at that time, what I know now… so many dreams, years gone by, and here we are sitting at this bar again.” Suddenly, his eyes became crystal clear as he held my gaze. “But you hate me now… and we’re strangers. We just happen to share common memories full of pain. That perfect kind of love we had… it fell apart!”
Fake Out_A SECOND CHANCE PRETEND GIRLFRIEND ROMANCE Page 7
