by Virna DePaul
“What is this about, Heath? Is it what I texted you?”
Humiliation swirled in her belly. She’d taken those photos and sent them to him because he’d made her feel beautiful and bold. Because she’d wanted him to think about her even when they were apart. Now she felt like she was in the principal’s office, waiting to be reprimanded. Had someone seen them?
Heath’s eyebrows shot up, then he frowned. He sat down next to her, but he didn’t touch her. “Not at all,” he replied. His face was creased, his mouth in a tight line. She’d never seen him like this. Where was the jokey, cavalier Heath?
“Okay, then…?”
He took a deep breath. “Even before you sent those photos, I’ve had a hard time not thinking about you. You…distract me. It’s affecting my game. And I just can’t have that. I think…we need to stop seeing each other.”
It was just as she’d expected, and she forced out a smile. “If I had known those photos would’ve scared you off…”
“Stop. Those photos were beautiful. They blew me away. If I had any other choice—”
She’d sworn there’d be no drama, but at the conflicted look on his face and the words falling from his mouth, she suddenly laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Don’t patronize me. You have every choice in the world, but you’re choosing to end things because—I don’t know. You’re tired of me? Scared? Fine. But don’t act like someone’s backed you into a corner.”
He didn’t get angry at her words. Instead, he seemed to deflate even more. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, “but I know you’d make the same choice for your career. You’ve already set the ticking clock. Once you’re offered a job with the NFL, things are over between us anyway. Right?”
He looked at her searchingly, and she sighed. What could she say? She had set the ticking clock. But now she regretted it. Now the thought of never seeing Heath again, never holding him, never laughing with him and hearing him call her Watergirl, made her want to cry and never stop. But he was right. She wouldn’t like having to break up with him, but if it was best for her career, she’d do it.
Wouldn’t she?
The doubt was there, but it was also irrelevant, so she simply said, “You’re right.”
They fell silent, and Camille could feel her chest tightening and the hot press of tears against her eyelids. So this was it, then: the end of their relationship. She’d told herself she couldn’t fall for him. She’d told herself to keep things casual. And yet now she was feeling all of the emotions she had wanted to avoid in the first place.
“I don’t make this decision lightly,” Heath said quietly. “I don’t. But I can’t let anything—not even you—jeopardize my career.” He rubbed a hand through his hair, and she noticed how tired he looked. “Football is the most important thing to me. It’s who I am. And you and Emma, you deserve more than that.” He swept both hands through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
Hesitantly, she touched his arm. “Don’t be. Sometimes being an adult means accepting that some things just aren’t going to work out.” She knew that all too well, what with her getting pregnant so young and then getting divorced before she’d turned thirty. She knew what heartbreak meant. But that didn’t make this one any easier, and for reasons she didn’t want to contemplate too much, this one was like a dagger to the chest.
Heath Dawson had captured her heart and wouldn’t let go of it, no matter how hard she tried to resist him.
She stood. “Thank you for being honest with me, Heath. And for being so kind to Emma.”
“Emma…I’ll still come to her birthday party.”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to. I can tell her you were too busy.”
“No, I’ll be there. And I’ll even bring some buddies of mine. I promise.”
She pressed her lips together, wanting to scream that she didn’t want to see him again, that this was hard enough without having to experience the replay, but she knew how disappointed Emma would be if he didn’t come. “Fine, if you have time, great. But if something comes up...” She shrugged. “Emma and I will be just fine without you, Heath.”
She hadn’t meant her words to be hurtful, but they seemed to wound him just the same. Before she realized what he was doing, he buried his hand in her hair and kissed her. She gasped as his mouth met hers. She knew she should pull away and leave right then and there, but she couldn’t. She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into his shirt, and kissed him as hard as he kissed her.
His mouth molded against hers, relentless, as if he wanted to imprint himself on her. She nipped at his bottom lip. He broke their kiss for just a second, his eyes dark. Then he kissed her even harder, angling her backward until she lay on the couch beneath him.
How could he end things when they were like this with each other? Camille didn’t understand it. They were explosive, like fire to gasoline. Their hands roved over each other’s bodies, underneath shirts, touching and memorizing the feel of one another. She couldn’t breathe, they were kissing so hard, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything except this moment with Heath, and making it last as long as possible.
But a clock chimed the hour, and that appeared to be the signal for him to stop kissing her. He lifted his head then embraced her in a quick, fierce hug.
“Goodbye, Watergirl. Be happy,” he breathed against her neck.
She blinked, trying to hold back the tears that were welling. Then she nodded, pulled back, kissed his cheek, and ran to the front door, throwing it open and refusing to look back, no matter how much she wanted to.
* * *
Heath sat in the living room, head in his hands, barely stopping himself from kicking over the coffee table or throwing something.
He and Camille were over. Nothing could change that painful, glaring fact. And it was his fault that things had ended.
He heard the front door open and close and, stupidly, he thought maybe Camille had returned. But when he looked up, he saw that it was his grandfather and his nurse, Bette, back from visiting one of his grandfather’s friends. Heath immediately stood, but his grandfather turned to Bette. “I’m going to talk with Heath for a bit.”
“In that case, I’ll go fix some lunch,” Bette said with a smile as she left.
“How was your visit?” Heath asked, taking a seat next to his grandfather on the couch.
“Not as interesting as the one you just had, I suspect. I ran into a woman outside,” his grandfather said. “She was crying.”
Heath grimaced, rubbing his forehead. He’d seen the tears Camille had been fighting back. Had almost been unable to stop himself from pulling her into his arms again and telling her to forget what he’d said. Telling her that he never wanted to stop seeing her. Only that wasn’t possible for them. If he hadn’t broken things off with her just now, she’d have ended things eventually anyway. She was talented. She’d get that job with the NFL. It was her dream, and Heath couldn’t stand in her way. No, it had been better to do it now, before he damaged his own career any more than he had. Before he got even more attached. “Did she get to her car okay?”
“Seemed so. What happened?”
He really didn’t want to talk about her, but looking into his grandfather’s assessing blue-eyed gaze, he couldn’t seem to stop the words from coming out either.
“We broke up. Things weren’t going to work out between us.”
“Ah.” The older man nodded, like he understood completely. Then: “There any particular reason? Because you don’t look any happier about ending things than she did.”
“I care about her. A lot. But she has a daughter. She deserves total commitment from a man. And I have to focus on my career. She…she’s been a distraction already, and it’s only been a few weeks.”
“Nothing wrong with a woman that distracts you.”
Heath just shrugged. “Camille understands where I’m coming from,” he said, although he sounded rather like he was trying to convince himself. “She’d do the same, if she wer
e in my shoes.”
His grandfather didn’t say anything for a moment. “When I stopped to ask her what was wrong, she said something similar. That she didn’t blame you for your decision. That she understood. It only made me see what a beautiful woman she was—inside and out. A woman worth fighting for.”
God, rub salt into the wound!
Heath rubbed his chest, like his heart hurt. But he’d made his choice to give everything he had to his career a long time ago. What could he do now except follow it to the bitter end? Plus, he couldn’t end up like Omar, getting shafted to a second-string team because he’d gotten too wrapped up in a woman. If he wasn’t a football player, what was he? No one. Nothing.
His grandfather sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, and it was as if he’d read Heath’s mind because he said, “I know how much your dad pushed you to play. And you’re a great player, there’s no doubt about that. But if you think that’s all you are? You’re wrong. Don’t sell yourself short.”
When Heath said nothing, his grandfather shook him until Heath looked at him again. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. And if this decision of yours is somehow linked to taking care of me? Well, just know that you don’t have to do that. Me, and your dad, we’ll be all right. You don’t need to give up your life for us. That woman I saw isn’t just one you let go and then maybe you think about her from time to time. She’s the type that stays with you your whole life. The type worth doing anything for.” His voice lowered as he said seriously, “Your grandmother was that type of woman, you know. She’s been gone four years now. Four years that I’ve spent without her. Wishing I’d had more time. Any amount of time. I’d have done anything and given anything for that privilege. My only consolation is I didn’t waste any of the time we did have together and I haven’t regretted that for a moment. Just make sure when your time comes, you can say the same.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Hey man, I think we should turn around. With this accident, we probably aren’t even going to make it in time.”
Heath heard Kyle’s logical statement, but instead of complying, he clenched the steering wheel tighter. He couldn’t turn around now—he’d told Camille he’d be at the party today. Not just for her, but for Emma.
“We’ll get there,” he replied. “Traffic’s moving again just up ahead.”
He saw Alec glance at him from the passenger seat. Alec was getting around on his crutches and by all accounts, it would heal fine, but Heath still felt guilty for screwing up so royally. After Coach had reamed him a new one, he’d apologized to Alec for his fuck-up. His friend, though, wasn’t one to harbor grudges. In fact, Alec had readily agreed to attend Emma’s party with him. So had Kyle. And even though they were being good sports, Heath could tell from their worried expressions what they were thinking: Heath Dawson was in way too deep with this woman and was probably going to get himself screwed over.
Ha. Little did they know he’d already screwed things up all by himself. He’d hurt Camille when that was the last thing he’d wanted. After talking to his grandfather, he’d second-guessed his decision to break up with her. And even though he still wasn’t sure what to do about it, he’d made a promise to attend Emma’s party and bring some friends; he was going to keep that promise. It was the least he could do.
Now, the three of them—Heath, Alec and Kyle—were driving to Emma’s Pirates for Tea Party, eye patches, hooks and bandanas in hand. Heath had also gotten Emma a gift—a very cool light-up sword that would be great for a swashbuckling, tea-partying type of girl.
But an accident on the highway driving to Camille’s house meant they’d be late to the party. It was starting at 1:00, and it was already 12:45. Heath willed traffic to go faster, for the accident to get cleaned up so he could zip this car on down the road. They still had 80 miles to go.
“I really think we should turn around. Coach is pissed enough as it is, and we can’t be late for Alec’s physical therapy appointment this afternoon,” Kyle said.
He wasn’t usually the one caring about things like appointments and what Coach thought, but even Kyle was smart enough not to cross him when he was in a mood. After that colossal loss at the last game, everyone on the team had been tiptoeing around Coach.
“We won’t miss Alec’s appointment,” Heath said stubbornly. “We’ll get to the party, stay for a bit, and hit the road again. I told Camille I’d be there, so I’m gonna be there.”
“Uh huh,” Kyle muttered. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Finally, traffic cleared enough that Heath could maneuver to another lane. He pumped the gas, glancing at the time more often than he cared to admit. He didn’t have to be absolutely on time for the kid’s party, but they had a narrow window to make an appearance before they had to head back for Alec’s physical therapy session.
Soon they drove into Camille’s neighborhood. Parking the car after donning their eye-patches, hooks and bandanas, they went to the door. Heath could hear the kids yelling and laughing already, and he wasn’t sure if anyone would hear the doorbell. But after just a few moments, Camille was there, dressed in her pirate costume that she’d bought with Heath just a few days ago.
“You came,” she said softly, her expression reflecting surprise.
Heath found himself slightly annoyed: had she really thought he’d flake? Gritting his teeth, he said, “Like I promised.” He gestured at Alec and Kyle. “You know LeBrun and Young, right?”
“Of course. Nice to see you. Please, come in.”
She opened the door widely, although having three giant football players in her little entrance way was almost impossible.
That’s when Heath heard a squeal to wake the dead.
“HEATH!” Emma yelled. She bounded toward him, throwing herself into his arms like they’d been apart for a million years. Surprised but also rather flattered, he gave her a big bear hug before setting her down. She was so small that she barely came up to his waist.
“Happy birthday, Squirt!” He handed her the gift he’d bought her, and her eyes widened, like she hadn’t been expecting gifts at her own birthday party.
“So this is the birthday girl?” Alec asked.
Emma’s eyes turned into saucers as she looked at Kyle and Alec.
“Are you two real?” she asked in awe.
The adults all laughed, and Alec and Kyle each shook the star-struck girl’s hand with the appropriate gravity.
“Happy birthday, Emma. Love the outfit,” Alec said.
Emma blushed. She was wearing a full-on pirate costume, although instead of pants, she wore a flouncy black skirt, which made sense given the tea party theme. Suddenly shy, she mumbled something as she looked up at the three men.
“Okay, we’re neglecting our guests,” Camille said. She motioned for them all to follow her into the living room.
There, multiple tiny tables with tea seats had been placed, while the room overall was decorated in the pirate theme: ship’s flags with skull and crossbones, swords and tricorns, parrots and peg legs, plus plenty of eye-patches to go around. About a dozen kids ran about the room, both boys and girls, and everyone seemed to be shouting at the top of their lungs. Parents milled about, taking photos and making sure no one got into any spats over who sat where and who got which tea set. A few of the adults got as star-struck as the kids once they recognized who had arrived, one mom even coming up and asking for an autograph.
Emma sat at the front of the room in what was clearly the birthday girl’s chair. She beamed at her guests, and she couldn’t stop smiling at Heath, Alec and Kyle. Alec and Kyle made their way to one of the tables, talking to the kids and parents without missing a beat.
“It was really sweet of you guys to come,” Camille said to Heath quietly. “I appreciate it.”
Heath’s heart filled, knowing that he’d done the right thing in attending. Yes, he’d fucked things up between him and Camille, but at least he hadn’t screwed this up. Gazing at her, he wished he could take her back into
the gazebo and make love to her right this second. He wanted to show her every feeling bursting inside of him right now. But he’d been the one to break things off, even though part of him desperately wished things could be different. So he simply said, “How could this be a real pirate party without some Bootleggers?”
She forced a smile then went to the front of the room, announcing the next game that would be played. Before that, though, Emma got up from her seat and took Alec and Kyle by the hand, motioning for Heath to come too.
“You have to have tea with me!” she cried. “Come and sit!”
Alec glanced at the tiny chair, and then he looked at Kyle with an eyebrow raised, wordlessly asking if they should even try or if the second they sat down, the chair would break underneath their weight. But Emma pulled on their arms, and the duo gave a shrug and sat down. Heath came up and sat down in the chair across from the birthday girl, and the sight of all three giant men, knees practically to their chins and the chairs almost disappearing underneath them, caused the entire room to erupt into laughter.
Playing the room, Heath lifted a small teacup and began sipping it like he was the queen of England. Emma laughed, and soon all three men were playacting as well.
“Pass me the cream, dear?” Alec asked Emma in a falsetto.
“Of course, sir,” she said in serious tones.
Kyle sipped his tea, pinky in the air. “You must tell me what this blend is. It’s faaaaabulous.”
The kids laughed again, and the parents snapped photo after photo of the hilarious scene. Heath glanced over his shoulder to see Camille smiling widely and shaking her head at the same time. That’s when one of the kids brought all three guys hats to wear, and they played up their roles as proper English pirates at a tea party so well that they were applauded afterward.
“It’s time to play Pin the Patch on the Pirate!” Camille called. “Let’s all go outside, okay?”
The parents shuffled the bouncing kids outside, showing a few where the bathroom was during the party break. Camille made her way through the crowd, stopping every so often to speak to a child or to a parent. She laughed at one dad and pointed to the backdoor for one of the kids.
