Stunned, Camille sat back down on the couch. Her heart ached. And even though having the entire world talk about their relationship didn’t feel great, Heath’s words and the expression on his face as he’d said them were burned into her brain, lighting her with joy and an unmistakable regret. The news anchor had said the interview had been days ago, probably soon after Heath had broken up with her. Before he’d seen her and tried to get her back. Even then, he’d been looking out for her.
She wasn’t just a challenge for him. What she was was a fool.
She remembered the warmth of Heath’s hand around hers as he’d placed it over his heart. How he’d looked at her. How he’d teased her. How he’d gently pushed her out of her shell, taking those photographs when she’d been at his house. How he’d come through for her and Emma, even risking being late for Alec’s physical therapy and receiving a fine because of it. He’d been there for her since the beginning, and had even apologized profusely for how he’d treated her 10 years ago, when they’d still been children themselves. He’d never gotten angry with her for her actions against him, either.
As she remembered everything Heath had done for her, her chest clenched and she felt more tears coming. She realized, with a painful type of clarity that only occurs when it’s too late, that she’d been wrong. Completely, utterly wrong.
She’d let something precious slip through her hands. All because she was a coward. All because she hadn’t been willing to believe that what she had with Heath was worth fighting for.
Chapter 21
It’d been two weeks since Heath had seen Camille. Two long, painful weeks that had seemed to stretch into eternity. He’d tried everything to get her out of his head—bar-hopping, drinking, flirting with women—but it was no use. She was there to stay. He just hoped he could focus on football and get through the season without enraging Coach again.
But no matter how hard he tried, he could only see the tears on her face as she’d told him they had no chance together. How she’d said they’d been doomed from the start. He’d wanted to argue with her, tell her she was wrong, but for some reason, he’d known it wouldn’t have mattered. Then again, maybe he’d just been too scared to be rejected again. He may act like a devil-may-care playboy, but he wasn’t immune to heartbreak, either. So he’d left Camille, knowing that if he ever saw her again, it would only be as awkward coworkers and nothing more. Their entire history swept under the rug, never to see the light of day.
Standing underneath the stadium with the rest of the Bootleggers, Heath carried his helmet underneath his arm, waiting to run out onto the field. The fans shouted and screamed, the entire stadium pulsing with energy. The Bootleggers were on the upswing again, but they were predicted to lose against the Cougars, who currently were the league’s number one team.
“Ready?” Kyle asked as he jogged up to Alec and Heath.
“Ready not to make Coach blow a gasket? Yeah, let’s hope,” Heath said grimly. “If it weren’t illegal, he probably would’ve murdered me by now.”
“Eh, if he hasn’t murdered Kyle yet, you’re good,” Alec rejoined. “He’s the one that gets under Coach’s skin the most.”
Kyle gave them both the bird. “Fuck y’all, Coach loves me. Now let’s get out there and whoop some Cougar ass.”
“Yes!” They bumped fists. That’s when they got the signal, and the entire team burst onto the field. The crowd erupted, and Heath could hear shouts of “Dawson, Dawson, Dawson!” that energized him even more. Deciding to live in the moment, he put his hands up, signaling to the crowd. The fans screamed. Waving and doing his touchdown dance, he milked the audience for all it was worth, increasing the overall energy tenfold.
His heart may be broken over Camille, he reasoned, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have fans that loved him.
“Dawson, get over here,” Coach called.
Heath grinned one last time at the crowd then, as one of the team’s captains, made his way to the center of the field. The ref flipped the coin. Heath watched it wink in the sunlight before calling tails.
“Tails!”
The crowd shouted all over again and Heath elected to receive the kickoff.
He was going to play hard today. Not just for Coach, or his team, or even the fans at the game today and watching on TV. He was going to play hard for Camille and Emma. They were football fans and even now that he and Camille were over, he somehow wanted to do his best for them.
As he lined up with his fellow Bootleggers, he realized that Camille had been pushing him to do his best from the very beginning. When he’d insulted her back in high school, she’d made sure he knew that he had hurt her by publishing that photo in the yearbook. Sure, it hadn’t been the nicest way to show him, but the message had been unmistakable: Do better, Dawson. And now as an adult, he wanted to do better for her. He wanted to play his best and bring the team to victory.
As the game flowed around him, Heath entered a space where all he could think, smell and feel was football. No worries, no doubts: just the game, the turf beneath his feet, the sound of players yelling and grunting. And as he ran the field, ball tucked under his arm, he heard the words he’d forgotten but needed to hear right now: If it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn’t change you.
Coach Pollert had told him that when he was 12 years old, after Heath had complained about some play being too difficult. Instead of admonishing the boy for complaining, Coach had given him this nugget of wisdom, encouraging Heath to overcome this difficulty and realize that working toward a goal like that would be worth it in the end. What’s life if everything’s easy? he’d asked with a smile. You don’t learn anything if you don’t have to try. Now get back out there and do your best.
Heath dodged a tackle, running for a touchdown, Coach Pollert’s words echoing in his mind. And when he scored, the stadium erupting and his teammates surrounding him, he could almost feel Coach Pollert’s hand slapping him on the shoulder for a job well done.
“That’s how we do it, Dawson!” Coach Reddick yelled from the sidelines. “That how we fucking do it!”
A few plays after that, in the zone, he caught a pass and scored another touchdown. The stadium was still cheering, the place practically vibrating with excitement, when half time was announced. As he walked off the field, Heath couldn’t help but wish Camille had been there to see him. The high of how well he was playing and regaining Coach’s respect—at least for now—dwindled until all he could feel was a sharp sadness that she hadn’t been here. He knew, with a painful, sudden clarity, that he was truly nobody without her. He wasn’t half the man he could be without her encouraging him and scolding him.
“Coming, Dawson?” Alec asked as he headed in the direction of the locker room.
“Yeah, be there in a sec.” He sat down on the bench, dropping his head in his hands.
Silence. And then his friend said, “You can get her back, you know.”
Slowly he lifted his head, then shook it wearily. “I tried. She shut me down. Said we were doomed from the start.”
“So try again. You’re a player, so get back in the goddamn game. Go after the woman you want. If you don’t, you’ll regret it. Believe me, I know.” With those mysterious words, Alec left. Heath stared after him, wondering what woman he regretted losing. Then for some reason, his thoughts turned again to Cal Pollert.
How would he feel about him dating his daughter? Would he have approved? Or would he have told him to get the hell away from her? One thing was for sure, Cal Pollert would have thought he was a fucking coward for breaking things off with her the way he had. And for thinking he could just apologize and ask for a second chance and expect everything to be better. Of course Camille would be reluctant to get involved with him. He’d told her what he’d thought was true when he’d said nothing and no one would ever be more important to him than football, but that hadn’t been him talking—it had been Heath’s dad. To Sam Dawson, football was the be all and end all. It was what he measured Heath�
��s success by. But as much as Heath loved playing the game, he knew it wouldn’t be his life forever. He could lose his career at any time to injury, and he eventually would lose it no matter as he got older and was replaced by some young hot shot. And then what?
Would life be over for him? Even if he had Camille in his life?
He imagined it. Retiring from football and doing what he’d always wanted—teaching Little League. Having a family. A family with Camille and Emma and potentially other children. And he knew in that moment that he’d been wrong. Football meant nothing if he couldn’t have all that, too.
He’d let Camille get away from him more than once, but he wasn’t going to do it again. He was a player, damn it, and that’s exactly what he was going to do. Play the hardest game of his life, for the greatest prize.
In the locker room, he pulled out his phone and texted her, telling her he wanted to talk to her and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He kept checking his phone, but she didn’t reply, and with a curse he headed back out to the field again for the second half of the game.
His eyes widened in shock when he saw her.
Camille. On the sidelines. Not taking photos but handing out water.
Seeming to sense his presence, she looked directly at him, and to his utter astonishment, she smiled. Smiled! And not just a sad, halfhearted smile, but a smile that told him she was happy to be near him at the game. It was a smile that transformed her entire face, lighting it up with joy. His heart stuttered at the sight.
“Dawson! Quit dawdling!” Coach’s voice brought Heath back to the present, but he still couldn’t tear his gaze from Camille.
He ran up to her. “Camille. What are you—”
Looking over her shoulder, she shook her head. “Not now, Dawson. You’ve got a game to finish. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
“You promise?”
She smiled widely, and then winked at him. “I promise.”
Heath could hardly pay attention, he was on such a high from seeing Camille. Getting into formation, all he could see was her smile and the joy on her face. He was now even more determined to play his absolute best and bring home the win for Camille to witness.
For the next hour, he caught the ball and dodged and avoided tackles like a cat, speedy and slippery. By the end of the third quarter, he caught a pass and scored another touchdown.
The crowd roared, and he did his dance as his teammates surrounded him. Coach screamed from the sidelines, “Atta boy, Dawson!” while Kyle and Alec hugged him.
It was like some spirit had taken over and was driving him to win. The opposing team couldn’t catch any of the Bootleggers, and the Bootlegger’s offensive and defensive maneuvers were played with the utmost precision.
In the end, they won 28 to 3.
Heath pulled off his helmet, shaking his sweaty hair from his forehead. Coach came up to him and slapped him on the shoulder. “Dawson, you drive me fucking crazy, but that out there is why I’ve kept you on this team. You’re one of the best players in the NFL, hands-down.”
Normally, Heath would’ve been over the moon with Coach’s praise, but now, he hardly listened. He gazed at Camille across the field as he replied, “Thanks, Coach. I’ll see you later.”
He jogged toward Camille. She handed out one last cup of water, smiling all the while. When he was only a foot from her, they simply stood and stared at each other. Color rose on her cheeks, and she fiddled with her hair, which was down and flowing down her back. She wore a light-blue sundress and a pretty berry lipstick, earrings dangling from her lobes. She looked absolutely gorgeous: sunny and beautiful and feminine. Heath had to restrain himself from pulling her into his arms and kissing her right in front of the entire stadium.
“What are you doing here? And where’s your camera?” he asked finally.
Her hands behind her back, she seemed suddenly nervous. “I don’t have my camera because I haven’t accepted a position with the NFL. Not yet.” When he just stared at her, she added, “They called and offered me the job, on the condition that I reassured them we aren’t personally involved. I told them I wouldn’t do that.”
Shit, no! “Camille, it’s your dream job.”
She shrugged. “And you’re my dream man. Either they’ll make an exception or they won’t.”
“Watergirl, I can’t ask you to—”
She came toward him, touching his arm. Her eyes seemed especially green today, sparkling in the sunlight. “I’m hoping they’ll hire me anyway. But no job is worth losing you. And being a coward about our relationship would be the biggest mistake of my life.”
She fell silent, and when he didn’t say anything, she began to pull away. He snatched her hand back automatically.
“What are you saying?” He needed to hear it. He had to hear the words, because otherwise he was afraid this was just another dream that he’d wake up from.
Tears filled her eyes. “I’m saying that I love you and I want to be with you, you big lug. Got it?”
Laughing, he pulled her into his arms, embracing her with everything he had. “Good,” he said, “because I love you too, Watergirl. I can’t live my life without you. You make me a better person—you know that, right?”
“Well, someone’s gotta keep you on your toes.”
At that, he tugged on her hair, tipping her head back. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said.
Then he kissed her.
It was explosive: a meeting of mouths that had been desperate for each other for weeks. It was a homecoming and a vow, and Heath licked inside her mouth without caring that everyone was probably watching. His Coach and teammates sure were.
“And now he’s kissing the watergirl,” Kyle shouted. “Way to be an attention hog, Dawson.”
He felt Camille’s laughter against his mouth. The players around him and even Coach clapped and hooted. Fans in the stadium cheered.
It didn’t matter, though. All that mattered was Camille was kissing him like she would never ever stop. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the nearest bench. She squealed, laughing at his antics, her hair mussed, her dress wrinkled, her lipstick smeared; she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
“I love you,” he said again.
She twined her arms around his neck. “How much do you love me?”
“I love you so much that I’ll play tea party with Emma every day for the rest of her life.”
She laughed, running her fingers through his hair. “That’s dedication, Dawson.”
“I’m a dedicated guy.” He kissed the side of her neck, but knowing they still had an audience, he stopped himself from giving her a full-on hickey. “I’ll teach all of our daughters how to play catch and stop bad football players from hurting their feelings.”
Her eyes widened. “How many daughters are we going to have?”
“Well, I thought five would give us a nice football team.”
“Five!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while.” He stroked her waist; she hummed, trying not to laugh at him.
“You’re ridiculous and I never want you to stop.” Realizing something, she started in his arms. “Oh, I forgot to tell you!”
“What?”
“You know those photos I sent you?”
“As if I’d ever forget. Those photographs are all I’ve had of you.”
“Well, Sheila sent them around to some friends of hers, and I now have six women wanting to come in for boudoir photoshoots. If the NFL doesn’t agree to my terms, I’ve got a fall back position I think I’ll love. I’m thinking I might do it anyway.
“That sounds awesome.”
“Heath!” Alec called. “Sorry to interrupt, but we need you for interviews. I can’t hold them back much longer.”
Heath tightened his hold on Camille as if he didn’t want to let her go, but she laughed. She smoothed his jersey, brushing away imaginary dust before combing his hair. “Go on. You played awesome today. You de
serve it.”
“One last thing, though,” he said. And then he got on one knee, causing loud gasps from those around them. “I don’t have a ring, but you know I’m good for one,” he said, gazing into her shining eyes. “I love you, Camille Pollert. I loved you since you published that yearbook photo of me 10 years ago. Will you keep my ass in line and marry me? Will you let me spend the rest of my life making you and Emma happy?”
She laughed and cried. When she didn’t say anything for a moment, the crowd began chanting, “Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!”
“What do you say, Watergirl?”
Leaning down, pressing her forehead against his, she whispered, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Heath kissed her, and then stood up. He yelled, “She said yes!” and everyone screamed so loudly that it could probably be heard for miles.
Heath picked her up in his arms. And then he began spinning her in the middle of the field, the sounds of the stadium surrounding them. When he finally set Camille down, he was the one who was dizzy. With relief.
Joy.
Love.
And the certain knowledge that their future together would be a wild and wonderful ride.
Description
Take one sexy quarterback,
Mix in one adventurous princess,
Add some serious sexual tension,
And you get the royal romance of a lifetime.
Going Deep Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 15
