“You sleeping with your boss, Merriman?” asks another reporter.
“She was here for a business meeting.”
“Which is why she’s doing an early walk of shame down the street with her shoes in her hands?”
Blake roars.
“I said leave her the fuck alone. What is wrong with you?”
The press scatter, having gotten what they wanted: an angry quarterback for the front page of the paper.
I’m still crying.
“Thank you,” I say to Blake.
“I’m not here to talk to you. I’m here to make sure you get to your car safely. It’s dark out here. I’m your escort, nothing more.”
There’s a hard glint in his eyes that tells me he’s completely serious about these boundaries.
He walks me to my car and leaves me without a single word.
It’s just me, on my own, driving through the dark streets of Austin, the streetlights glimmering through a veil of my own tears.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CAMILLE
I cry so much that night I could float away into the Gulf of Mexico. I ignore Sam and Amanda’s texts about that night’s midseason premiere of Grey’s Anatomy but I can’t ignore their joint FaceTime with me.
I splash water on my face and wipe off my mascara before I turn the camera to face me.
“How’s Hazel face?” Amanda asks.
She’s lounging on her sofa in her apartment. Sam is dressed up to go out later with glittery black eyeliner ringing her brown eyes.
“She’s great,” I say, flipping the camera to face me. In that background are my pink walls and white wicker headboard.
Sam squints her eyes.
“You’ve been crying.”
“What? No, I haven’t-“
“You can’t hide this from us,” Amanda says. “We’ve known you for too long. Your face is blotchy and you took your makeup off without putting your pajamas on first.”
“Okay, I have been crying,” I admit. “But I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m f-f-f-“ I burst into tears again. I didn’t think I had any left, but the saltiness stings at my eyes. My chest heaves as I sob and sob and sob.
“Let it out,” Amanda says. “We’re right here with you. Just let it all out.”
I cry for a solid five minutes before the tears abate.
“Let me go splash my face with water,” I say to them with a shaky voice. I return and pull my childhood teddy bear closer to my chest. “I told Blake.”
Sam nods her head.
“We figured.”
“He’s really angry with me. Really, really angry.” I hesitate. “I don’t think he’s ever going to be able to forgive me for keeping this from him all these months.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Amanda says kindly. “He just needs some time.”
“He hates kids, and now he hates me,” I point out. “This isn’t looking good. I don’t know how it could get any worse, actually.”
I hear a ding coming from Sam’s computer. A click of a mouse and a sharp intake of breath later, Sam returns, her eyes wide.
“What?” Amanda and I ask simultaneously.
“I have a Google alert on your name,” Sam explains cautiously. “And. Well. You’re kind of on the front page of every celebrity gossip magazine on the Internet.”
I switch windows on my laptop, pulling up Gossip! Magazine’s website. I click on the first headline and am swept into an article filled with photos of me, shoe-less, leaving Blake’s apartment. Even worse is a grainy photo taken with a telephoto lens of the two of us kissing on his balcony.
“It could be worse,” I say slowly. “They could have photos of us having sex in his kitchen.”
Amanda and Sam laugh.
“Glad to see you’re able to joke again,” Sam says.
My head pounds with the beginnings of a migraine.
“I probably need to go. I’m guessing I’m going to have a phone call or six hundred to field in the next few hours. So much for sleep.”
“Godspeed,” Amanda says solemnly, saluting me.
Sam shakes her head.
“Yeah. Good night and good luck, I guess.”
I sign off just as my phone rings. It’s Janet.
“Hussy central, this is Camille,” I say jokingly. It’s amazing the power of talking with your two best friends has. I feel reborn. Whatever happens, I have them on my side.
“Oh, Cami,” Janet says. “I was in my hot tub relaxing when my phone starting ringing off the hook. I’m getting some calls from people…people saying that you and Blake Merriman are, uh, romantically involved?”
“He’s Hazel’s father,” I say to her unceremoniously.
“What?” Janet exclaims. “How is that possible?”
“Well, Janet, sometimes when a mommy and daddy love each other very much-“
“Cami, be serious. Please. I haven’t had enough wine tonight for this.” A moment later, I hear the uncorking of a glass bottle and the smooth pour of liquid into glass.
“We had a fling over spring break a long time ago,” I explain. “I didn’t get his number or his last name. I had no idea who he was. Then he shows up and is suddenly a new Warriors team member and I didn’t know what to do.”
I hear Janet gulping wine.
“Alright, so this is better. This is a better spin on the story. You’re simply with the father of your child. That’s all. You reconnected, and he was signed to the team before you were even the owner. There isn’t too much of a conflict of interest…” She trailed off.
“Janet, you know it doesn’t matter. This looks bad no matter what,” I say. “And we were romantically involved for months now. He didn’t even know he was the father until last night.”
Janet pauses.
“Seriously? You didn’t tell him until last night?”
“I already know this is bad, Janet. Don’t lecture me.”
“Sorry, Cami. I’m sure you had your reasons.” She sighs. “The Championship is in a week. I’m not sure you’ve broken any League rules, but we’ll have to check with the commissioner tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, taking the first deep breath I’ve taken all night long. “Thanks, Janet.”
“It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of what I can take care of. You get some sleep.”
“I’m sorry your evening was interrupted by this,” I say guiltily.
“You don’t even worry your pretty little head about it. Rest. I’m your business partner. This is what I’m here for.”
“Thank you, Janet,” I say, relief flooding my body.
“Night, Cami.”
“Night.”
I turn off my phone and shut down my computer and take a long, hot shower to wash off the grime of the day.
I just wish I could turn my brain off as easily.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
BLAKE
My phone buzzes and I reach over to grab it groggily.
“Yeah?”
“Saw you on the front page today, brother. Grainy balcony photos of you making out with your boss girlfriend and then you screaming at the press and lying to them. Good morning.”
I check the clock. It’s nine in the morning Austin time, ten where Thomas is on the east coast.
“What are you talking about?”
“Check the news, man. It’s all over the Internet that you’re boning your hot boss. She looks good barefoot, by the way.”
I reach over for my computer and open it up, clicking rapidly to my main news sites.
“Shit. Fuck. This is not good.”
Thomas laughs.
“Yeah, well. It could be worse.”
“How could it be worse? That I’m secretly the father of her child?”
“Yeah, that would do it. Good one, you should write soap operas.”
“Thomas.”
“What?”
“I really am the father of her kid. Spring break. Miami. Me and her. All night long. We made a kid.”
Thomas lets out a low whistle and a dark chuckle, one right after the other.
“You sure know how to live your life, I’ll tell you that much, man.”
“Can you stop being snarky and give me some advice?” I pull the bedcovers off my naked body and open the curtains. It’s a brilliantly sunny day outside, with fluffy white clouds against a bright blue sky.
“So she’s been lying to you this whole time?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“I mean, why did she keep this a secret from you?”
“Does it matter?”
Thomas sighs.
“It matters dude.”
“Why?”
“Because if she kept it from you just to be a lying narcissist and get off on your pain, then fuck her. But if she had a good reason, well. It sort of changes things. I mean, it doesn’t change the pain you’re in, but it might change how you proceed.”
His words are making sense to me for once in our friendship.
“She said she didn’t tell me because she knows how I feel about kids.”
“Makes sense, dude.”
“Could you maybe be on my side?”
Thomas clucks his tongue and sighs. I hear the click of a cigarette lighter. He’s a stress smoker.
“I am on your side, man. I am. I promise. I just think you should give her a chance. She’s a single mother with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She’s trying to protect her kid. Seems reasonable enough to me.”
I can’t deny that he’s right.
“So what do I do about the press?”
“You go out and kick some ass on that football field, assuming your teammates don’t want your head on a pike.”
“Oh, fuck,” I exclaim.
“What?”
“I’ve gotta go. You just said something that turned on a lightbulb in my head.”
CHAPTER FORTY
BLAKE
I barge into the locker room.
“Hey, dude. Whoa, you look pissed,” Mason says. He’s halfway into his practice uniform.
“Where’s Josh?” I ask the room at large. People are in various states of undress.
“I’m right here,” he says with a shit-eating grin on his face.
I cross the locker room in four strides, grab him by his t-shirt, and slam him against the metal lockers.
A few people start yelling. “
Hey! Calm down!”
“I’m not going to fucking calm down. You sold me out to the press, didn’t you? You knew about me and Cami. I don’t know how but you knew.”
Josh laughs at me.
“Of course I knew, dude. You really think your little trysts were subtle? You’ve been eye-fucking her every single chance you get. No wonder you’re the quarterback. It’s not like you can catch a football all that well.”
“Fuck you, Josh,” I say. “You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
He spits in my face. I wipe it away. He still has that smug grin on his face.
“I bet she’s a wildcat in bed. The fat ones always are.”
I drop him down on the ground and take a swing at him. He blocks my punch and knees me in the gut.
“Fuck!” I roar, fighting back and landing a kick to his groin.
He doubles over.
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” I scream. But hands are soon all over me, pulling me away from Josh.
“Boys! Settle the hell down!” It’s Coach. He’s pissed. “What in the hell is going on?”
An hour later, Josh and I are tied together by one ankle out on the football field. The whole team is watching, looking bemused.
“Okay boys. We’ve got a championship to win in a week. We need both of you communicating with each other. I won’t have this fighting bullshit. It’ll be five laps around the field or until you’ve forgiven each other. Whichever comes first. Ready, set, GO!” He blows his whistle.
“Dude, right foot first. My right foot. Not your right foot. Fuck, seriously?” Josh says, irritated.
“This is your fucking fault. I’m not the one who narced on me to the press.”
“I had to do it, man. You were getting too much of a big head. You know how hard I worked to be second string? And here you are, strolling onto the team like no big deal, let me fuck the boss and be the quarterback with no ramifications? Fuck you.”
We stumble along in silence for two whole laps, finally finding our groove on lap three.
“How did you figure it out?” I ask him.
“It was Minnesota. I saw you coming out of Camille’s room the morning of the blizzard,” he says. “I’d had my suspicions up till then, but that was the confirmation that I needed.”
I let those words sink in. “You could have come to me. Camille and I – it’s complicated. More complicated than you can possibly imagine.”
“Complicated sleeping with your hot boss? Give me a fucking break, man.”
I weigh my words carefully, but decide to throw caution to the wind. This three-legged running race, with the sun beating down and our teammates giving us hell has worn me down.
“We knew each other before all of this. Years ago. During a spring break trip to Miami.”
“Seriously?” Josh looks surprised.
“Yeah. We lost contact with each other pretty much immediately. Didn’t exchange last names or phone numbers.” I pause. “I’m about to tell you something I’ve told literally only one other person.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m the father of her kid. I had no idea until last night.”
Josh stops walking.
“Are you fucking serious right now? She kept that from you?”
I nod.
“She did.”
“Why?”
“Because she thinks I hate kids.”
Josh lets out a low whistle. The coach screams at us to get moving again. We do.
“Do you? Hate kids, I mean.”
I shrug.
“They’re not my favorite thing about living on planet Earth. I think I’ve been a little overly dramatic.”
“Dude, you better get over it. You’ve got a kid now. You can’t just abandon her,” Josh says. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry I went to the press. If I had known what you were going through…” He trails off. “I hope you can forgive me.”
I swallow and take a minute to let him bask in discomfort.
“I forgive you. I’m sorry for punching you, but you might understand why I’m a little touchy right now.”
We both stop, and Josh offers his hand to me. I shake it.
The team cheers, and Coach blows his whistle.
“All right, bring it in.”
Josh and I hobble over to the rest of the team. People pat our backs and offer us congratulations.
“Anything you want to say to the team?” Coach asks.
Josh clears his throat.
“I’m sorry for causing all this drama. I hope you can forgive me.”
There’s a murmur of assent amongst the team.
“And I’m sorry for adding to the drama and causing this mess in the first place.” I take a deep breath. “I just want to say that I’m just as much of a player as anyone else on this team. I earned my spot here. I think we can all agree on that. If anyone else has anything they want to say, speak now.” My heart races as I look around the room.
“We’re good,” Mason says. “Trust me, we’re good.”
“Alright, then.” I look at everyone. “Let’s go kick some major Shark ass this weekend at the Championship!”
We all break for the locker room.
Josh’s words hang in my head. I can’t abandon my kid. It’s not fair to her.
I’ve got to step up and be a man.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CAMILLE
Ding dong!
I put down my laptop, bleary-eyed from staring at spreadsheets all morning long.
/> “Elise! Can you get that!”
But I hear her soap opera blaring in the other room while she scrubs the bathtub.
The doorbell rings again. I pull on a sweater and jog downstairs barefoot, answering the door without looking to see who it is.
Blake is standing there, his arms behind his back, wearing a button up shirt and slacks with dress shoes. The shirt is fitted and I can see his muscles rippling through it. I want to tear it off him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him. It comes out as a jab which wasn’t my intent.
He takes it in stride though.
“I came to apologize.” He pulls out a massive bouquet of what must be two dozen white roses. “These are for you.” He pulls his other arm out. It’s a small bouquet of pink carnations. “These are for Hazel.”
My heart skips several beats.
“She’s not here. She’s at day care. She begged me to go.” I add this last part guiltily. “It’s not like I can’t take care of her during the day. She likes it there.”
Blake gives me a small smile.
“I’m not really one to judge something like that. Don’t worry.” He looks behind me. “May I come inside?”
I step aside.
“Of course.”
My heart is pounding from adrenaline, nerves, and attraction. I lead the way into the kitchen, taking the bouquets from Blake and setting them into crystal vases to check the stem length. I grab kitchen shears and slice the thick stems under running water.
“I wanted to talk to you,” Blake says from his perch at the kitchen barstools. “About the other night.”
“Oh,” I say, arranging the roses in the vase and filling it with water. I split open the packet of flower food and tap the powder into the vase.
“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for getting upset. I’m sorry for throwing you out,” he says. “I was just a little overwhelmed, but that’s not an excuse. I should have reacted better than I did. I just wanted to say that I understand.”
“Understand what?” I ask.
“I understand why you didn’t tell me about Hazel. I didn’t exactly give you the best impression of how I am with children, did I?” He laughs nervously. “I wanted to ask for your forgiveness. And I want a second chance with Hazel. To get to know her.”
DIRTY PLAYER: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Page 12
