“My father sent me a text yesterday. It’s the first time I’ve heard from him since he left. He wants to see me when his team comes to town for the game.”
“How do you feel about that?” I ask her.
She shrugs noncommittally. “I’m going to see him with my sisters. Like Celie said, he wants something. And it will be up to me to figure out what that something is.”
“I’m confused.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware of the Cannons history,” she says. “But the last time we made the finals was six years ago.”
“Craig said it was six years,” I say, remembering his glare when he delivered the information. “He really wants to get there as the head coach.”
“He does. He was the assistant when we were there last.” She takes a deep breath. “My dad was the coach then. And he left our family because of that final. We lost. And he blamed me.”
The air goes out of the car at her words. She delivers them with no emotion, no sign of what she’s feeling inside. But her eyes…the blank look in them gives me chills.
“Since you weren’t a player or a coach, that makes no fucking sense,” I say in a low tone. “I don’t get it.”
“My father isn’t always a rational person,” she says, her eyes averted. “But in this case, he had a thread of logic to his accusation. Our best scorer at the time—his name was Watts—he developed an…interest in me, I guess you could say.”
“You were sixteen years old,” I say.
“Right. So it was creepy more than exciting. He had a huge ego and acted like he’d never been told no in his life. I was very naïve and had never dated anyone. Watts would wait for me after practice and just kind of hang around me. I never gave him any reason to think I was interested. I would be polite with him, but that’s it. And my father backed me. At first.”
“I don’t think I’m going to like where this is going,” I murmur.
She darts a glance in my direction and then returns her gaze to her hands still curled in her lap. “Watts pinned me against the wall one evening. I squirmed out of his grasp, and my father was coming down the hall at the same moment. He got in Watts’s face and threatened him if he so much as looked at me again. To be honest, I wanted him kicked off the team. I didn’t feel safe at work anymore. And I knew my father’s protection would only go so far. Because winning the title was so important to him.”
“More important than his daughter’s safety?”
My question hangs in the air unanswered.
“Watts was embarrassed. I think he was more embarrassed I didn’t return his affection than anything else. For the next week, he taunted me whenever he could. He whispered things to me, rude, despicable things. By this point, we were in the playoffs, and the season couldn’t end fast enough. But the playoffs dragged. Watts wasn’t playing well, and my father kept hinting that his mind wasn’t on the games. You know, because of me.”
I clench my jaw, willing myself to stay silent until she’s finished the story. Because I’m already pretty sure I’m going to fucking hate the ending.
“We made the finals, and the game was played here in Climax. A few hours before the game, Watts burst into my office and slammed the door. He proceeded to call me a tease; you know, for not giving it up for him. He was high on something; I could tell. He was one of those guys born with so much talent he didn’t need to outwork everyone to be the best. He could party the night before a game and still function. Anyway, he grabbed me so hard that I screamed.”
“Savannah.” I reach for her hand, and she lets me hold it.
“My father broke into my office seconds later and punched Watts in the face. Watts ended up with a big cut on his cheek, but nothing was broken.” She looks up at me. “The owner of the Cannons was walking down the hall with my father when it happened. He said Watts couldn’t play on the team anymore. He wanted him gone right away, but my father fought to let him play in the final. And the owner caved to the coach’s demand.”
The unsaid hangs between us, and I force myself to get confirmation. “So your father allowed the man who assaulted his daughter to play in the game that night.”
“Correct.” She exhales. “And we lost anyway. Watts played half-heartedly, knowing he’d be traded right afterward, and we got killed. My dad was so angry on the drive home—he wouldn’t speak to me except to call me a bitch and tell me to go fuck myself when I tried to apologize.”
I let out a noise of shock, but Savannah just waves her hand in the air dismissively. “That was nothing new for him. He swore at all of us when he got angry. He’d done that our whole lives. So we were used to it, believe me. The b-word was one of his favorites, but he reserved ‘go f— yourself’ for special occasions.”
Everything I’ve complained about with my own father, all the arguments and fights—it all goes out the window at Savannah’s casual acceptance of her father’s abuse.
And I realize partly why she and I connected from the first moment we met—as the child of an abusive parent, you feel like no one understands you. People can empathize, but they aren’t in your place. They don’t know what life is like when you feel unsafe around the people who are supposed to be your biggest protectors. And my father’s a damn teddy bear in comparison to Lawrence McMann.
“Savannah, he was wrong. He should never have treated you that way. You don’t deserve it. You never did.”
She bites down hard on her lip before saying, “Thank you, Cameron. Anyway, after the game, my father drove me home. He didn’t speak the entire drive, but as soon as we pulled into our driveway, he shouted at me to get out of the car. The minute I was out, he put the car in reverse and peeled out of the driveway. I went up to bed and cried myself to sleep. I figured he’d forgive me eventually and we’d move forward like we always did. Little did I know that would be the last time I’d see him.”
“He left for good that night?”
She nods. “Watts was traded right away, so I never had to see him again. But suddenly, my father ended up as the head coach of Watts’s new team. The Caves owner and he must have struck a deal—he’d give him Watts for less in exchange for the head coaching job. He’s been able to win a lot there, so it all worked out for him, I guess. But I’ve carried the guilt of the Cannons loss in my heart. The adult side of me realizes my father obviously used me as a scapegoat, but the kid in me hasn’t let go.”
I know what I’m about to say is trivial compared to what she’s gone through, but I don’t know how else to help other than to promise her, “We’re going to win the damn title this year. Just like I told you. Okay?”
She smiles at me. “Okay.”
Savannah
As soon as we pull into my driveway, Cam leans over and kisses me.
This time, I kiss him back. His tongue flicks out, asking for entrance, and I open up and let him in. Oh, God. My first real kiss.
Cam’s hot lips make me crazy with need, and I clutch at his back as his mouth moves to my neck. He reaches underneath my coat and keeps reaching until he’s unhooked my bra. My hands are all over him, and I don’t plan on stopping. I tug at his shirt until I find his molten skin underneath, and he groans into the crook of my neck. Within a minute, he’s got my coat unzipped and my shirt up, and his tongue’s making its way down my collarbone to my breasts. I catch my breath, feeling my entire body light up.
Then he abruptly pulls back.
“What’s wrong?” I swallow and try to catch my breath.
“Savannah. I think we need to have a proper date.” His voice is ragged.
I pull my shirt down. “We do?”
“Yes. Have you been on a date before?” He reaches out and helps me zip my coat back up.
“Once,” I say. “It was a blind date, and it was awful.”
“I haven’t gone on a lot of real dates either.”
“I thought you dated Amy for years.”
“We did, but we were kids. It felt like most of our nights out were always casual and no
t planned, you know?”
I nod even though I don’t know at all.
“Let’s do something after the game tomorrow. Are you coming?”
I fiddle with my coat zipper. I can feel myself losing control, and I’m not sure I even want to get my foot back on the brake.
“Yes, with my sisters. But I have no idea what to suggest for a date.”
Cam just winks at me. “I’ll figure it out.” He opens his door. “Come on. I’ll walk you up.”
When we reach the top step, Cam stops. “I’ve always known somebody must have hurt you,” he says. “You’re so beautiful, but so incredibly guarded. At first, it was like I couldn’t get too close or you’d hit me in the groin with a hockey stick.”
I smile at his joke.
He searches my face. “But I knew if I was going to get to know you, I’d have to be patient. And I will be, Savannah. I promise.”
“I had a twisted childhood, Cam.” I hold his gaze. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. But you’ve become my friend, and I’ve asked you for an enormous favor. I’ll understand if you’ve changed your mind about having sex with me. I just think you have a right to know why I’m the way I am.”
Cam cups my face with his hands. “I’m glad you shared with me. As painful as it is to hear, I was thinking how amazing you turned out and how strong you are.”
He kisses me again, and I relax into his warm mouth on mine and on the way he lightly nibbles my bottom lip. “I like you,” he murmurs.
“I like you too,” I whisper into his mouth.
When I step back inside the house, I go to my room and shut the door. I turn on some music and spin around the room. I feel like a teenager, and a boy took me home, and we made out past curfew. I missed doing all this stuff when I was young. I missed it all because I was too busy caring for somebody else, somebody who should have been caring for me.
Chapter Eighteen
Cameron
On my way to a sales call, I impulsively pick up the phone. My mind is going in a hundred different directions after the shit Savannah told me last night about her father, and I need some advice.
But I can’t tell my cousins about her. Not yet.
So I need a workaround.
I press a number on speed dial. Dylan picks up on the second ring.
“What’s up, Cam?” His voice comes through my car speakers, and he sounds like he’s in a tunnel.
“Where the hell are you?” I say. “You busy?”
“Nope. I’m on the beach. Jasalie and I are meeting with the social worker in a bit, but I needed to go for a run first.”
“How are the classes going? Do they teach you parenting skills?”
“Sort of. They go over lots of stuff about what it’s like to be a foster kid and how best to handle a variety of situations that could come up. I feel like I have a bit of an advantage because my wife knows first-hand about a lot of things that I had no freaking clue about before meeting her.” His tone is excited and confident. Nothing much fazes Dylan, but I know becoming a father is a particularly big deal for him.
“That’s great. Hey, speaking of fatherhood…”
“Don’t tell me you’re…”
“Shit, Dyl! No!”
Loud chuckle. “Okay. No need to bite my head off.”
I grip the steering wheel tightly. “Look, I’ve been thinking—do you think people who come from screwed-up parents actually have an advantage? Kind of like what you said about Jasalie?”
“You mean you and I could potentially use what we learned from our strained relationships with our fathers to become better parents than we would have been without going through all that shit?”
“Yeah.” I pause, thinking of Savannah and how amazing she is. “I always felt kind of sorry for you and me, you know? Brayden’s dad is so cool, and so were Colt’s and Ayden’s. Colt and Ayd had to deal with the early loss, which is a terrible thing, but they all seemed so…”
I trail off, but Dylan finishes my thought exactly. “They all seemed like they knew how to love unconditionally. I felt it too, Cam. But you and I…we’ll be okay. I didn’t used to be so sure about myself, but then I met Jasalie. Once you meet the right woman, it will all fall into place for you. Don’t sweat it.”
“I’m okay. Really.”
I finally know what he means. I’ve already felt it. With a certain brunette who loves beignets and can skate as well as half the guys on our team. I never felt anything close to this with Amy. As much as I tried, something was always missing.
Savannah
I take one last look at myself in the mirror at the black and blue sweater with cute black jeans that fit me just right. My hair’s loose and flowing down my shoulders.
“Vannah!” Molly calls to me through my closed bedroom door. “Enough primping already—we’re going to be late!”
“No, we’re not!” I shout back at her. “We’ve got plenty of time!”
Molly and Celie want to get to the rink early so they can spend as much time as possible scoping out and analyzing the potential relationship between Cam and me.
I open the door and nearly trip on Molly, who’s standing about two inches away with her hands on her hips.
“I didn’t know if we’d see you again,” she says as I march past her toward the coat closet in the front hallway.
I pass Mama and Celie on my way through the kitchen. Mama’s having a cup of tea at the table. Celie jumps up and grabs her coat off the chair as soon as she sees me.
“The lady’s ready.” Celie reaches out and ruffles my hair.
My hair I just spent twenty minutes working on.
I swat at her hand. “I’d kick you if I wasn’t going to be wearing a hat, anyway.”
I kiss my mother on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, Mama. Don’t wait up.”
Mama pulls her housedress more snugly around herself and smiles at me. “Don’t listen to your sisters, Savannah. It’s healthy for a woman to take her time. You can’t rush these things.”
“I don’t think there’s any danger of rushing, Mama,” Celie says. “Not with Savannah at the helm. This is the first brush with real romance she’s ever had in her life.”
While Mama chastises Celie for her teasing, I go put on my coat.
As the three of us walk into the rink, I say hello to Lenny as he works the ticket line. He nods at us and I lead Molly and Celie around the rink to center ice, just to the right of the players’ bench.
I take a look around from this vantage point, loving that I can see the entire rink. I chose these seats years ago as one of the perks of the job, and after years of sitting on the cramped team bench next to my father or running the scoreboard, I fell in love with them.
Celie squeals and grabs my arm. “Cam’s on the ice!”
I laugh. “I see him, Cel.”
Warm-ups have just started, and Cam skates toward the goal. He flips the puck easily into the net and as he turns in our direction, he waves.
Celie and Molly both wave back enthusiastically.
“This is so cool,” Celie says. “I always hated going to these games. Now we have a star to follow.”
I glance around at the crowd. Cam’s dad is a few rows away. He can’t possibly see me from this angle, so I look all I want to. His expression is constantly set in a frown. He’s so the opposite of Cam, who always looks like he’s trying not to grin.
As soon as the game starts, I forget about Cam’s dad or any anxiety I have about my date with Cam afterward. I scream and shout as Cam breaks free of two defensemen and scores the winning goal.
He turns toward me as the buzzer sounds, his stick high in the air. He pumps a fist in my direction and then pulls off his helmet. His dark hair is plastered to his head, and his cheeks are red from the cold. He’s got a cut on his chin from when he got into a fight for the puck up against the boards.
And I want him so much.
Like he knows what I’m thinking, he drags his team jersey up and over his head, le
aving him in shoulder pads and a t-shirt. His arm muscles ripple through his shirt.
“What did I tell you?!” he calls to me with a grin. “Three more wins and we’re in the playoffs!”
“Okay, I know I’m married, but that man is hotter than sin.” Celie hugs me. “And I can’t believe how well the Cannons are doing! I’m sure you’ll make the playoffs this year.”
I tell my sisters they can go home, but they insist on staying with me while Cam showers. So the three of us stand outside the locker room and wait. Celie gets bored and convinces me to join her in a cartwheel contest across the middle of the empty hallway while Molly plays judge.
“Vannah did six in a row, and you only got four, Cel,” Molly says firmly as Celie protests.
But I’m still going, and as I stand up from my seventh cartwheel, I come face to face with a grinning Cam. My hat’s fallen off my head, which shows off what a mess my hair truly is, and I’m sure my face is flushed from being upside-down.
Cam’s bright eyes meet mine. “Hey, Savannah.”
I quickly grab my hat off the floor and pull it over my head as fast as I can. “Hey. I didn’t see you come out.”
“Doesn’t the rubber floor hurt your hands?” His hair’s damp from the shower, and he smells so good. He’s wearing those blue jeans of his I love and a brown winter coat with matching gloves.
I hold up my hands still inside thick black gloves. “I’ve got protection.”
He takes one of my gloved hands in his. “Got it.” Still holding my hand, he turns to Molly and Celie.
“You guys want to get out of this cold rink and into the colder outdoors?”
Molly laughs. “At least we’ll have a warm car to look forward to.”
I pull my hand away from Cam’s as we walk toward the exit. We’re still in the arena, and I have no idea where Craig is.
Cameron (Wild Men Book 7) Page 13
