burst through.
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah,” Cameron said, his voice quiet. “I can't let it kill me.”
“I'm proud of you, kid. Everyone says it's quitting, but it takes guts to walk away while you're ahead. And to look after yourself. Can't say I'm not disappointed I'll never see your full potential, though. You had a lot more in you.”
Fuck. This sounded so final.
“Thanks, Coach Walker. I was gonna call, but... got caught up in the house hunt,” and meeting gorgeous men , “and wrapping my mind around it all is still pretty... you know.”
“I know.” After a moment, his voice quieter, the coach repeated, “I know. Look, I'm glad you're choosing your family and your future. The other guys might laugh, but in ten years they'll have a lot less than you if they don't play their cards right. I hope they all do, but you've got a good head on your shoulders.”
The coach had never said these kinds of things to him, let alone all at once. It only reaffirmed Cameron's suspicions: this was goodbye.
“Um, you guys still having the season-end party after locker clean-out?”
He didn't dare mention the game. The series was tied three-three and game seven was on Thursday.
He wasn't gonna be there, even in the stands.
Traitor, his brain said.
Coach Walker knew what he was thinking.
“Yeah. You're coming, of course,” the coach told him in a voice that left no room for argument. “You gotta tell the guys yourself.”
“They already know, don't they?”
“Yeah, but they deserve to hear it.”
“I know,” Cam admitted. Coach Walker was right, as always.
“Are you coming to locker clean-out day?”
Cameron rubbed his face. He had to. It was in his contract. But all the media questions: what was he doing next? Was he drafted? Why hadn't he been on the ice? If the guys lost on Thursday, did he feel responsible?
“Maybe. As long as the journos don't fuckin' skin me.”
“I'll make sure they don't,” Coach Walker promised. “Come by later, around four.”
Cameron's flight back was early morning, so he could make it if he packed fast. Besides, he wouldn't miss the party for his life. “Pass on my love, a'ight? They're gonna do great.”
“Will do. See you there, kid. Take care.” There was warmth in the man's voice, and Cameron smiled.
His own brain still screamed at him that he was being a traitor and letting the others down, walking away from the chance of a lifetime. At least he had someone on his side who understood that voice in his head, and that made all the difference.
Chapter 11
Cameron
Monday passed without word back on the offer. None of them expected to hear back until Tuesday, when the owner would have to accept or reject it. It was a frustrating distraction, but also good since Cam had his date that day.
He forgot about all his stresses when he spotted Noah waiting outside.
As always, he was gorgeous . His light blond hair was wispier, gelled up in a nice textured cut that Cameron kind of envied. He'd always kept his hair close-cropped to keep him safer in fights. He greeted Noah with a cheery, “Hey. Nice haircut – did you just get it done?”
Noah spun on his heel, then beamed. “Thanks! Yeah, I went out on my lunch break today,” he admitted, shifting from foot to foot. Adorable.
Cameron tried not to let on that he was just as nervous.
“Let's head in,” Cameron told him, opening the door to the trendy new bar and restaurant.
“You chose a good place,” Noah told him. They approached the maitre-d's station and waited for someone to seat them. “I come here sometimes after work.”
“Oh, yeah? You work nearby?”
“At the gallery just down the road.”
“The national gallery?” Cameron's eyebrows rose. “Nice.”
“Thanks,” Noah smiled.
“Evening, gentlemen. A table for two?” the waiter greeted as he approached.
Cameron nodded. “Thanks.”
They followed along to a cozy, romantic private corner booth with a lit candle on the table.
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah,” Cameron said, his voice quiet. “I can't let it kill me.”
“I'm proud of you, kid. Everyone says it's quitting, but it takes guts to walk away while you're ahead. And to look after yourself. Can't say I'm not disappointed I'll never see your full potential, though. You had a lot more in you.”
Fuck. This sounded so final.
“Thanks, Coach Walker. I was gonna call, but... got caught up in the house hunt,” and meeting gorgeous men , “and wrapping my mind around it all is still pretty... you know.”
“I know.” After a moment, his voice quieter, the coach repeated, “I know. Look, I'm glad you're choosing your family and your future. The other guys might laugh, but in ten years they'll have a lot less than you if they don't play their cards right. I hope they all do, but you've got a good head on your shoulders.”
The coach had never said these kinds of things to him, let alone all at once. It only reaffirmed Cameron's suspicions: this was goodbye.
“Um, you guys still having the season-end party after locker clean-out?”
He didn't dare mention the game. The series was tied three-three and game seven was on Thursday.
He wasn't gonna be there, even in the stands.
Traitor, his brain said.
Coach Walker knew what he was thinking.
“Yeah. You're coming, of course,” the coach told him in a voice that left no room for argument. “You gotta tell the guys yourself.”
“They already know, don't they?”
“Yeah, but they deserve to hear it.”
“I know,” Cam admitted. Coach Walker was right, as always.
“Are you coming to locker clean-out day?”
Cameron rubbed his face. He had to. It was in his contract. But all the media questions: what was he doing next? Was he drafted? Why hadn't he been on the ice? If the guys lost on Thursday, did he feel responsible?
“Maybe. As long as the journos don't fuckin' skin me.”
“I'll make sure they don't,” Coach Walker promised. “Come by later, around four.”
Cameron's flight back was early morning, so he could make it if he packed fast. Besides, he wouldn't miss the party for his life. “Pass on my love, a'ight? They're gonna do great.”
“Will do. See you there, kid. Take care.” There was warmth in the man's voice, and Cameron smiled.
His own brain still screamed at him that he was being a traitor and letting the others down, walking away from the chance of a lifetime. At least he had someone on his side who understood that voice in his head, and that made all the difference.
Chapter 11
Cameron
Monday passed without word back on the offer. None of them expected to hear back until Tuesday, when the owner would have to accept or reject it. It was a frustrating distraction, but also good since Cam had his date that day.
He forgot about all his stresses when he spotted Noah waiting outside.
As always, he was gorgeous . His light blond hair was wispier, gelled up in a nice textured cut that Cameron kind of envied. He'd always kept his hair close-cropped to keep him safer in fights. He greeted Noah with a cheery, “Hey. Nice haircut – did you just get it done?”
Noah spun on his heel, then beamed. “Thanks! Yeah, I went out on my lunch break today,” he admitted, shifting from foot to foot. Adorable.
Cameron tried not to let on that he was just as nervous.
“Let's head in,” Cameron told him, opening the door to the trendy new bar and restaurant.
“You chose a good place,” Noah told him. They approached the maitre-d's station and waited for someone to seat them. “I come here sometimes after work.”
“Oh, yeah? You work nearby?”
“At the gallery just down the road.”
“The national gallery?” Cameron's eyebrows rose. “Nice.”
“Thanks,” Noah smiled.
“Evening, gentlemen. A table for two?” the waiter greeted as he approached.
Cameron nodded. “Thanks.”
They followed along to a cozy, romantic private corner booth with a lit candle on the table.
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